A Gift of Time (The Nine Minutes Trilogy Book 3) (31 page)

She saw the
familiar clench of his jaw when he was upset or agitated. He stood up and
started to head for his bedroom. She didn’t follow. He came back out with his
hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was stalling.

“Why is my
real name important to you?”

“Grizz, are
you here in South Florida because you see a future with me? Not that I’m sure
how that could be accomplished, but you know I’m not in danger. Tommy’s
shooting was random. You don’t need to watch over me and my kids. I’m
self-sufficient. I can raise my children alone. I don’t need you, so why are
you still here?”

He didn’t
answer but just stood in front of her, hands clenched into tight fists. She was
making him mad. Good. Let him feel some anger. It was a feeling she disliked,
but at least it was an emotion.

“I guess
you’re battling your old demons, aren’t you? Nobody tells Grizz what to do or
gives him an ultimatum? Well, I’m giving you one. If you want to stay remotely
connected to my life, even if it’s peripherally, I suggest you tell me the
truth. You tell me your real name, or I will walk out of that door.” She nodded
toward the front door. “And I will never look back.”

Nothing.
They stared. Neither one broke their gaze.

“Your
decision,” she said firmly.

Still
nothing.

Minutes
passed.

“Fine,” she
said, standing up quickly. She dug in her purse for her keys, but he came to
her, grabbed her by both arms.

“No, Kit.
It’s not what you think.” His voice carried a desperate edge.

“Then what
is it, Grizz?”

“I’ll tell
you my real name, but I’m afraid you won’t believe me because it’s similar to
my new alias. I’m afraid you’ll think I’m making it up, but I’m not. You’ll
have no way to verify the truth, so I can only hope you’ll believe me. I’ve not
given you any reason to trust me with these things, but I can’t stand the
thought of you thinking I was lying about something that I’m actually being
honest about.”

She sat back
down.

He looked
down. “The only people who ever called me by my real name were teachers and
some kids from the school. The couple that raised me called me Boy, and Ruthie
called me Brother. I saw my birth certificate only once before I destroyed it
by sinking it in the family car in a canal. The last name was my stepfather’s,
so I don’t know my real last name. You understand I’m going to tell you only
what I know based on a memory that’s more than forty years old?”

She nodded.

Without
taking his eyes away from hers, he said, “My real first name is Jamison. It’s
similar to my alias James, so I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to trick you
or make it sound close on purpose. Some people called me Jamison. Some Jamie,
Some James.”

He waited
for her reaction. He hadn’t expected the wide smile.

“I believe
you.”

He blew out
a long breath.

“So, you
don’t think I’m making it up to sound close to the new alias?”

“I know
you’re not making it up.” She stood, walked toward him.

“How do you
know that, honey?”

“Because I
know your real name, Grizz. I probably know more than you do about your past.”

“How? How
could you know anything about me? I don’t even know my real last name.”

She clasped
his hands. “Your mother’s name was Francis Folsom. Her mother’s maiden name was
Jamison. And I know it’s true because I’ve met your father.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Ginny

2001,
Fort Lauderdale

The expression on
Grizz’s face was one I’d never seen. He
was dumbfounded. He was shocked. And more importantly, he looked hopeful.

I went to
the kitchen and brewed some coffee as he sat on the couch and stared at the
blank television screen. When it was done, I handed him the steaming mug of
strong, black coffee, just like he liked. He sat there and listened as I told
him about my visit with Sister Mary Katherine several months ago, right before
Tommy’s death.

“No.” He
shook his head, the coffee untouched. “Things like that, coincidences like
that, don’t just happen.”

I took a sip
of my coffee and sat it on the small glass coffee table. I had the strangest
thought as I took Grizz’s untouched mug from his big hands and sat it next to
mine. This coffee table is too delicate to be in Grizz’s home. I wonder if it
will ever get shattered. Like hearts. Hearts get shattered.

I shook off
the morbid thoughts. “Those were my exact words to Sister Mary Katherine. I
just couldn’t believe it. Sister smiled at me and told me she didn’t believe in
coincidences, either. She liked to call them ‘Godincidences.’”

I reached
for my purse and retrieved the envelope that contained David Enman’s picture. I
pulled out another one.

“Sister let
me have this.” I handed it to Grizz. “Is this Ruthie? Is this your little
sister?”

He stared
down at the picture, his expression unreadable.

“Grizz?”

When he
finally spoke, his voice was thick.

“I never
thought I’d see her face again. I just can’t believe it.” A slow smile spread
across his face. “And Razor. He was the best damn dog a man could ever ask for.
Lucifer and Damien were smart dogs, but Razor had more brains than some people
I know.”

I told him
about my visit to a sleepy little North Carolina town in the foothills of the
Blue Ridge Mountains, and gave him every detail of the afternoon I spent with
his father.

“Your
father’s name is Micah Hunter. Both of your parents’ last names, Folsom and
Hunter, can be traced back to families that settled there before the Civil War.
Your roots run deep.”

He listened
without interrupting.

“He returned
from the war and spent almost eight years tracking down every lead he could
find on your mother’s disappearance. The rumor had gotten around that she’d
left with a man who’d been working for a logging crew just passing through. She
had confided to a friend she was pregnant, and that only made your father more
desperate to find her. He made it a point to talk to hundreds of men over the
years. He visited logging camps all over the state. He even had a few false
leads that he traced to Tennessee and Virginia, but he never found her. He said
the despair finally took its toll, and he turned to alcohol. He almost drank
himself to death and found himself inconsolable until he met a lady. He said
Margaret Mae gave him a reason to clean up his act. With her help, he was able
to replace the alcohol with something better.”

Grizz looked
over at me then. “With what? What did he replace it with?”

“He replaced
it with God. Your father is a preacher.”

“A
preacher?”

“Yes, a
preacher. And he’s been widowed for years. He lost Margaret Mae to lung cancer.
The poor thing never smoked a day in her life and died of lung cancer. They
never had children, but your father has eight brothers and sisters. All but two
are still alive. You have a ton of cousins.”

Grizz didn’t
say anything but reached to his right to turn on a light. The sun was setting,
and the living room was getting dark. He stared straight ahead, and I studied
his profile. I almost reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had come loose
behind his ear and caught myself. What do you think you’re doing, Ginny?

“Well, it’s
too bad I’ll never get to meet them.” His voice was low.

“Why not?
Why can’t you meet them?”

“Are you
serious, Kit? And before you give me shit about calling you Kit,” he paused and
cast me a knowing glance, “or my cussing, you’ll have to get over it. I promise
never to call you Kit in public, but when we’re alone, you’re Kit. And I’ll try
and tone down the language, but that’s easier said than done.”

I shook off
the explanation. I wanted to hear why he didn’t think he’d get to meet his
family.

“Why can’t
you meet your family?”

“After the
things I’ve done, you think I’m going to drive up to the top of some mountain
and be the welcomed son? He’s a preacher, for fuck’s sake, Kit. It’s too late
for people like me.”

I took a
deep breath, my heart thumping. “I tell you I visited a nun I hadn’t seen in
twenty-five years. She just happens to be caring for a nun who was there the
day you were born. That nun remembers every single detail about your birth, and
then I track down and find not only your original birth certificate in Florida,
but the man who fathered you in North Carolina, and you think it’s too late?” I
barked out a laugh. “Grizz, it’s just the opposite. It’s all about God’s
timing. He’s never early and He’s most definitely never late. His timing is
perfect, and it’s time for you to meet your father and your family. He’s
wonderful, Grizz. I think you’ll love him. I know he loves you. He didn’t even
know if his child survived. He didn’t know if his child was a boy or a girl,
but he never once stopped loving you.”

Grizz shook
his head.

“I could
never meet him and tell him the things I’ve done, Kit. Never. You said he was a
preacher. C’mon, honey. This isn’t a good idea.” He stood and walked his cold
coffee to the kitchen. His back was to me as he robotically cleared our dinner
dishes away.

I followed
him and stood next to the island. He still had his back to me and was scraping
food into the sink. Before he could switch the disposal on, I said, “You don’t
have to tell him the things you’ve done. I already told him.”

He stopped
what he was doing, and I saw his back stiffen. He slowly turned around and
looked at me.

“I told him
everything. I left no detail out. No detail. You know what I’m saying, right?”

He didn’t
answer.

“Your father
wants to meet you, Grizz. He’s been waiting. I’ve spoken with him a few times
since Tommy died. He knew about my confusion where you were concerned and that
there was a good chance I wouldn’t ever speak to you or see you again. But he
never once tried to coerce me. Even when he thought the only link to seeing his
only child might’ve been severed if I never came around, he didn’t push. He’s a
kind and gentle man. Even if you don’t want to meet him, I’ll make sure Mimi
does. He’s a man worth knowing. And like I said, he knows everything—and
he still wants to meet you.”

After a few
moments, he said, “I’ll think about it.”

I knew when
not to push. I smiled at him and bumped him aside as I took over at the sink. I
could’ve loaded the dishwasher, but just like when I made dinner, I felt like I
needed to keep my hands busy. I talked as I washed dishes. My hands welcomed
the hot soapy water. He sat down at the table and watched me. I could feel his
eyes boring into my back.

“What was
prison like?” I asked casually. Not that it was a casual subject, but I tried
to act nonchalant. I didn’t think he’d answer.

“Shitty.”

I couldn’t
help but smile. “I’m sure it was crummy, but what was it like? I mean you were
on death row, so I assume you were confined to a cell maybe twenty-three hours
a day, an hour for exercise?”

“That’s what
it should’ve been like, but I had privileges.”

“I guess I
should’ve seen that one coming. Was there like a hierarchy in the prison
population?”

“Yeah. There
were several different gangs and they filtered up and were separated by
ethnicity. The Hispanics, the blacks, the whites. They each had their own
organizations within the prison, and they each had their own leaders. It didn’t
take me too long to establish myself over all of them.”

I shot him a
glance. “How did you do that? I can see why you might’ve been able to be in
charge of the white guys, but the others?”

“I just did.
I may have been a lot of things, but there was one thing I always made clear. I
didn’t care what color a man’s skin was. If he got the job done, he was treated
fairly. When everyone realized I would deal with them equally and could get
them more privileges, they respected me. In some ways, I helped keep the peace
between the different groups. It actually benefited me, too. A prisoner on
death row wouldn’t normally be able to eat with the majority of the prison
population. Letting me eat in the chow hall or lift weights in the yard
whenever I wanted to, well, it helped ease some tensions between the groups.”

I cocked my
hip to one side. “And the name Grizz didn’t have anything to do with them
appointing you as their head guy or whatever you call it?”

He laughed.
“Yeah. It probably helped.”

I turned
away from him again and started to dry the dishes I’d just washed. And then I
brought up another subject. One I’d dropped earlier.

“So how old
are you?”

“You know
how old I am. You told me you found my original birth certificate.”

“Oh, right.
So, let’s see. You were born in 1947, which means you’re fifty-three now, but
you’ll be turning fifty-four at the end of this year.”

“Yeah. So
what?”

I laid down
the plate I’d been drying and turned around to face him again. Using my fingers
to tick off the years I said, “And Tommy was born in 1959, which means you
must’ve been...let’s see…twelve years old when you had sex with Candy? And for
some reason, she thought you were fourteen.”

“I had
assumed Pop’s son’s identity. The real Jason Talbot would have been fourteen.”

“But you
were only twelve years old.”

“Yeah,
again. So what?”

I snapped
him with my dishtowel.

“Twelve?” I
shouted. “Don’t you think twelve is not only too young to be having sex, but to
think you actually got her pregnant? You sure have a high opinion of your
sperm!”

I should’ve
known the revelation wouldn’t have embarrassed him. He grinned and shrugged.

“She was a
seventeen-year-old hooker. She made the first move. You think I didn’t take
advantage of that? Find me a twelve-year-old boy who hasn’t discovered his dick
and I’ll show you a girl.”

I shook my
head in exasperation. “I just think it’s horrible!”

“Just
because you think it’s horrible doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. That it
doesn’t happen all the time. Even I heard about that schoolteacher who seduced
her sixth-grade student. I think she even got some time for it.”

“Just stop
talking, Grizz. I shouldn’t have brought this up when I knew it would get under
my skin. I don’t even know if a twelve-year-old can get a woman pregnant. I
still can’t see how you thought Tommy could’ve been your son.”

“Had a lot
of time on my hands in prison. Did some reading. A boy has the ability to get a
girl pregnant when he reaches puberty. Every kid is different. Youngest-known
father on record is—”

“Stop. I
don’t want to hear it. This conversation is over.” I held up a hand.

“You brought
it up.”

“Yeah, well
I’ve lived three minutes long enough to regret bringing it up.”

I looked at
my watch and let out a sigh. I’d stayed long enough.

“I have to
run. Pollyanna will be bringing Jason home in less than an hour. Mimi won’t be
home, so I want to make sure I’m there.”

I started to
gather my things when he asked, “Pollyanna?”

“She's his
friend Max’s older sister. She’s a cheerleader for the high school football
team, and Max and Jason wanted to go to the game. Their mother, Denise, has to
leave right after the game and has an appointment in the opposite direction, so
Pollyanna volunteered to drive Jason.”

He didn’t
say anything, and when I looked at him, he was smiling.

“What?”

“Nothing,”
he said, trying to hide his grin.

“What?
What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.
Just thinking—friend’s older sister. Older sister in a cheerleading
uniform.”

“My son just
turned eleven!” I could see by his expression he knew he’d gone too far.

“I didn’t
mean anything by it, Kit. I’m sorry, honey.”

I walked
over to him and punched him hard on the chest. It was so out-of-character for
me, but it felt good. He didn’t flinch, and it only made me madder. I pulled
back to swing again. This time, he caught my fist with one hand. I tried to
pull away, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Let go,” I
told him.

“No. Not
until you accept my apology.”

I hmphed. I
doubted any apology from Grizz could be sincere.

“Let go of
my hand,” I said in my most threatening tone.

“I’m sorry,
and I mean it,” he said without loosening his grip on my balled up hand. “I
know you and Tommy raised him up right. I wouldn’t want him to lose his
childhood like I did, but don’t assume he’s naïve, either.”

I wouldn’t
admit to him that Jason may have only been eleven, but he was in no way naïve
about what happened between a man and a woman behind closed doors. I remembered
Mimi making a comment last year when Tommy and I returned from our honeymoon
about us “doing it,” and Jason had innocently wanted to know what we were doing
because he wanted to do it, too. Tommy later told me he took the time to have
“the talk” with Jason and was surprised to learn Jason already knew about the
birds and the bees, and he only commented because he’d thought there was
something else he’d missed out on. No, Jason may have been a sweet and lovable
child, but he wasn’t naïve about sex.