The Secret Father

“You’re doing me a favor. Forget about the cost.”

“Being my son’s father isn’t a favor. I’m in this for good—you’d better get used to it.”

“I meant for now, coming with me when you don’t really know who I am. I probably would have asked for a DNA test.”

The idea startled him. “I didn’t think of it. The pictures… I can’t deny his face.” He rubbed his hands down the thighs of his jeans.

She smiled and he had the feeling he’d passed some test. Little did she know. She had no experience sharing custody. They both faced plenty of tests to come.

“I have videotapes we’ve been making since the day he was born, and a library full of photo albums.”

“I’d like to make copies.” As he spoke the plane rocked. He turned to the aisle, gripping the armrests to hide his shaking hands.

“Sure.” Olivia looked him up and down. “Are you all right?”

Grunting an affirmative, he managed to ease breath in and out at regular intervals. His humiliation was complete when the kid in front of him sat up on his knees to peer at Zach.

“You sick, mister? I always use that bag down there.” He slithered over the back of the seat to reach for the one in front of Zach. “You’ll be okay.”

The kid’s mom snatched him down so hard he seemed to disappear. Zach glanced at Olivia, whose close scrutiny made him feel weak.

He waved off an offer of wine and sensed Olivia doing the same. The floor rumbled beneath them as the engines powered up and then down. Flaps opened and closed as the pilots went through their preflight checks. Zach’s mouth dried like a desert in a drought.

He studied the stuff sticking out of the seat pocket. He might have to grab one of those bags.

At the first hint of movement he closed his eyes. When the jet jerked backward, his sweating palms slid off the armrests. A hand closed over his. He opened his eyes, biting back a shout.

It was Olivia, of course. She pulled his hand into her lap and deliberately threaded their fingers together. Her touch was more warmth and comfort than he’d known in six years. More than he had a right to know, considering.

“You don’t have to pretend.” Her low, liquid voice intoxicated more quickly than strong wine. “I know about being scared. When I heard you’d died, I tried to pretend I was strong, but I was terrified my dad would fire me and throw me out. He’s terribly proud of our name, and I knew he’d be ashamed of me. I’d always lived a spoiled, easy kind of life, but food and clothing and car seats and immunizations felt beyond my reach. Can you imagine Evan or Lily going to bed hungry because you’d been foolish?”

“Why are you telling me this?” She’d hardly been an adult herself when he’d left her pregnant and alone. Not having known didn’t seem to ease his guilt any more than it made her feel better.

“I told you because we don’t trust each other yet.” Each word came out under strain. “I can’t forget you disappeared, and you’ve had a bad time I can’t imagine and a bad marriage that makes you think a woman can’t share a child with his father. I just learned something about you that you’d rather I hadn’t, and I thought if I gave you something equally personal, we could skip a few steps learning about each other.” She squeezed his hand with a shrug that didn’t quite look casual. “And I know how it feels to believe every breath is the last one you’re going to squeeze past the boulder on your chest.”

He leaned toward her without turning his head. He didn’t want her to see the terror in his eyes. “Even if your father came through for you, what you faced makes my flying phobia trivial.”