The Truth (16 page)

“What in the hell is going on?” Jordan barked, his tone harsh, but his eyes gentle and worried.

“Where’s Ryan?” Lexie didn’t want him to see her like this.

“Mom picked him up,” Jordan replied, cutting off Marissa’s attempt.

“Lex, are you okay?” Marissa stepped between them, and held out her hand.

The emotions began to surface again. What was it with best girlfriends or mothers that brought out the needy child in all women? Marissa pulled Lexie into her arms as she cried — again.

“Damn it! Would somebody tell me what the hell is going on?” Jordan squawked.

Marissa turned and scowled at him. “Jordan, wait inside. Lexie will tell you what is going on with her when she calms down, and only if she chooses to. You will not yell at her right now, do you understand me?”

Jordan nodded his head like a scolded child and walked inside as he’d been instructed.

Lexie collapsed into Marissa’s arms again and cried, clinging to her. “You should’ve seen him,” she mumbled into her shoulder. “He was distraught, stunned, almost like he was in shock.” She stood upright, wiped her eyes and looked into her friend’s concerned face. “How could I have thought he would’ve turned his back on Ryan? Or Maggie? How could I have doubted him?”

Marissa reached out, grabbed her by the arms, and shook her gently. “You didn’t know. You didn’t know what happened. Anyone would have questions, Lexie.”

Lexie knew her friend was trying to help, to ease her guilt, but she knew how wrong she’d been. How unfair she’d been to Grayson. She let Marissa lead her inside, and gratefully accepted the Kleenex Jordan handed her.

“Lex,” her brother said tenderly, “are you all right? What happened? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I’ve made such a mess of things.” Lexie rubbed her hands over her face.

Jordan sat beside Marissa on the couch across from Lexie and listened as she told him what she’d discovered about Maggie and Grayson. His mouth remained open in shock until she’d finished. It snapped closed long enough for him to mutter, “Oh shit, sis.”

Grayson snapped the book closed and set it on the table. He’d read it from front to back, four times, and was still struggling to comprehend what it meant. Maggie had loved him, in fact, she’d loved him so much she’d let him go when she’d needed him most because she thought it was the only way to keep him safe. So why was he so angry at her for that? He’d spent the last five years thinking he’d meant nothing to her, that he was disposable.

Rising from the couch, he stripped off his clothes, climbed into the shower and let the hot water run over his face. His eyes burned, his stomach knotted, and his head was foggy. It was all too much.

He had a son. He grabbed for the wall to balance himself when his knee’s buckled. His breathing was ragged; he couldn’t seem to pull enough air into his lungs. He’d spent the last six months getting to know a wonderful little boy, and today, he learned that same boy was his son. “My son. Ryan is my son.” No matter how many times he said it out loud, he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it.

Switching off the water, he wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked to the sink. Using his hand, he wiped the condensation from the mirror. Leaning forward, he studied his reflection in the mirror. He ran his hands over his face, and recognized he needed a shave. His eyes were swollen, bloodshot, and dazed. Dark hair hung over his forehead, flipping up at the ends where the water had exposed his natural curls. The same curls as Ryan.

What did he do now? He’d loved two women in his life. Both of them had lied to him, misjudged him, and turned his world upside down. Had Maggie tried to reach him when she learned she was pregnant? If so, why hadn’t the message reached him? How long had Lexie known Ryan was his son? Is that why she’d run away from him?

Shaking his head, he walked into the kitchen, tossed back two aspirin in an attempt to reduce the pounding in his head, left a message for Jordan that he was taking a few days off, and climbed into bed.

Three hours later, he gave up on sleep, dressed, and jumped on his motorcycle, driving it blindly through the night. The cool air felt good against his skin as he revved the throttle, picking up speed, winding around the curves of the highway. He could smell the salty scent of the ocean, and imagined the soft lull of the waves against the shore.

He’d lost track of time watching the white stripes of the highway race past him. The low fuel light came on, and he’d driven far enough north that rain was soaking through his jeans and t-shirt.

Pulling off the highway, he parked in front of a small truck stop diner with a flashing neon sign announcing it was open twenty-four hours. The diner was empty except for the cook seated at the counter flipping through a newspaper, and a heavyset waitress pouring salt into half empty shakers.

They both looked up when he walked inside. The aproned chef nodded and turned his attention back to his newspaper. The waitress looked over the top of the glasses perched on her nose, and smiled. “Can I get you some coffee, darlin’?”

Grayson nodded appreciatively, and sat in one of the booths. The waitress placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, pulled a pencil out of the orange bun atop her head, and flipped open a tablet to take his order. Looking at her nametag he said, “Just coffee, thank you, Opal.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, sugar, but you look like you could use a hot meal.” She tilted her head, studying him. “You could also use a friendly ear. Whatever’s eating at you ain’t small.”

Grayson looked at her, and couldn’t help but smile. “You decided all of that in under a minute? Do I look that bad?”

Opal reached over and pinched his cheek. “Nah, not bad, just … well, a bit lost.” She wrote something on her tablet, and looked at him again. “I’m thinking a nice omelet with extra mushrooms, and a couple slices of sourdough toast. That oughta hold you for a bit.” She winked at him and shouted at Lloyd to fire up the grill.

He sipped his coffee, and watched the rain fall in the single street light shining over the parking lot. It wasn’t long before Opal set a gigantic omelet in front of him, topped off his coffee, and slid into the booth across from him.

She watched him in silence, almost as if she wasn’t leaving until she was sure he’d eaten something. He indulged her and cut a large bite of his omelet. Nodding her approval, she slid out, poured another cup of coffee, and sat back down across from him. “Wanna talk about it?”

Something about her made him want to open up. Maybe that’s what he needed, a stranger, with no preconceived notions, to help him figure out what he needed to do now. He leaned back, settled his arm over the top of the booth and shook his head.

“You’d never believe me if I told you,” he told her.

“Try me,” she challenged, sipping from the coffee she’d poured for herself.

“Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Grayson chuckled, and cleared his throat. “Five years ago I was in love with a woman.”

“It always starts with a woman,” Opal snickered at her own truth.

“The night before I was scheduled to deploy to Iraq, she broke it off with me, said she didn’t love me anymore.” He nodded at the scowl on Opal’s face. “I never heard from her again, and six months ago, I fell in love again. She was a single mother with a wonderful little boy. She was strong headed, stubborn, loving, a great mother, beautiful.”

“So why do you say ‘was’?” Opal asked.

Grayson looked into his lap, unsure of how to explain this. “It has recently been brought to my attention that Ryan, that’s the little boy, is actually my son.”

Opal squinted and pursed her lips. “How does that work, sugar?”

With a sarcastic grunt, he continued. “The girl that broke it off with me was sick. She had cancer. And it seems that’s why she left me. She didn’t want me to be distracted with worry while I was at war.”

“That was a very selfless thing she did.”

He frowned. “But then she discovered she was pregnant with my son.”

“Am I missing something here? I thought the woman you was lovin’ now had your son?” Opal looked as confused as he felt.

“She does, and this is where it gets interesting.” Grayson took another sip of his coffee. Opal was now leaning on both elbows against the table in anticipation. “Somehow, Maggie, that’s the birth mother and my old love, believed I’d died in Iraq. I can’t figure that one out. But she died when my son was only a few months old.”

Opal’s eyed welled with tears.

“Now, here’s the craziest part. The woman I’ve been dating discovers that her friend who passed away and whose son she adopted is in fact, my ex, therefore making Ryan my son. Only I’m not dead.”

Opal’s mouth was agape, and her forehead scrunched in confusion.

“So what would you do if you were me?” Grayson asked seriously.

Opal started to laugh. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she rocked back and forth. Her laughter continued for several minutes, boisterous and booming.

After several deep breaths, she finally managed to say, “You scoundrel! You actually had me going for a while there.” She took another deep breath and looked at him seriously. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you could’ve just told me, sugar. I wasn’t trying to force you or anything.”

Grayson stood up, pulled a twenty from his wallet and laid it on the table. He leaned over and kissed Opal gently on the cheek and exited the diner without another word.

The truth was so farfetched, even Opal thought he’d made it up.

It had been two weeks and three days since Lexie had heard from Grayson. She’d finally stopped leaving messages, but now she was beginning to panic. Once she’d gotten the vision of his crestfallen face out of her mind, she began to picture courtrooms, and restraining orders. These days she jumped when the phone rang, if there was a knock on her door, and even when a customer came through the door of the coffee shop. She was making herself crazy, and needed it to stop. She needed to talk to him, to find out what his intentions were, if he was all right.

It had been impulse that made her follow him when she spotted Grayson on his motorcycle at the stop light. She’d tried to stay behind him, and out of view, but sitting in her car watching him now, she felt like an intruder.

She wanted to put the car in reverse and leave him alone. Let him deal with the demons she could only imagine were haunting him. But the slump of his shoulders made her ache for him, and the thought of another two weeks of silence made her step out of the car.

She walked across the grass, following the familiar path, stepping around the tombstones of the cemetery. Grayson must have sensed her presence and whipped around, his face set in a grim mask. His growl couldn’t mask the evidence of the tears on his lashes.

They silently watched each other, the tension between them thick and unfamiliar. Lexie reached out to touch him, and sucked in her breath when he shot back to avoid her hand. Lowering her head, she fought to control the hurt she was feeling from showing on her face.

“I’ve tried to call you,” she finally managed, looking up at him.

His eyes were bluer than she remembered, and harder then she’d ever seen them. “I’ve been a bit distracted,” he replied, his tone dismissive.

Lexie stood where she was, unsure of how to proceed with him. His shoulders were straight, his hands tucked stiffly into the pockets of his jeans. The wind blew through his hair, and carried the familiar scent of him straight to her heart.

“Grayson … ” She still didn’t know what to say, but she desperately wanted to hold him, to soothe his pain.

He turned around, his stance the same, his eyes direct and intimidating. “Have you told him?” She knew he was referring to Ryan and she shook her head. “I’d like to be there when you do,” he stated, more of a command then a question.

“Okay,” she nodded taking another step toward him.

Holding out his hand to stop her, he said, “I have three questions for you. I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Okay,” she said again.

“Did you, even for a minute, wonder if I’d known of Maggie’s pregnancy, and turned my back on them?” He watched her intently.

She hadn’t anticipated the question, and was deadly afraid to answer it. She swallowed hard, “Well — ”

He cut her off. “It’s a simple yes or no question, Lexie. Did you or didn’t you believe I was capable of ignoring my own son?”

Her eyes pleaded with him, and her hands began to sweat. “It’s not as simple as that.”

“Yes or no,” he demanded clenching his jaw.

Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks and she nodded.

If it was possible, his eyes became even harder. “Did you ever question if I was capable of allowing Maggie to believe I’d died, if I were somehow behind her misconception?”

“Grayson, please understand … ” the look on his face caused the words to fail her.

He turned and looked at Maggie’s headstone in silence for a moment before turning and stepping toward her. His eyes narrowed, “How long have you known Ryan was mine?”

“Not long … um … ” she could feel her panic rising.

“How long, Lexie?” He raised his voice. “When did you know?”

She stuttered, “I … I … found her picture in your drawer.”

“When?” He repeated impatiently.

Beginning to sob, she looked down, needing to break his scrutiny. Grayson lifted her chin, forcing her to look up. His eyes were no longer harsh, but the sadness that now filled them made her answer ever harder. “The night we made love.”

He simply nodded his head.

“Grayson, let me explain … ” she begged.

“I would like to tell Ryan immediately, before he hears it anywhere else. Can I come by tomorrow?” he asked her quietly.

Neither of them had moved, yet the distance between them seemed insurmountable. She felt him slipping away, and realizing her betrayal, felt the desperation.

“Of course, I would like that very much,” she smiled up at him, praying he could see the love she had for him.

“I won’t stay long. Just long enough to make sure he’s all right with all this.” He stepped around her and began to walk away.