“Be patient, please.” Anthony raised a hand, and Mary knew he wasn’t trying to torture her, so she tried to shut up while he continued. “You did the same thing with Patrick. His grandfather passed away, and you decided to step up for him. On your own. You didn’t talk to me about it. You could’ve tried to tell me, but you didn’t want to.”
“That’s true.” Mary had to admit it, now that he’d said it aloud.
“You were doing the same thing I was doing. You were functioning on your own, as if you’re not part of us, and that’s the thing we have to change. If we’re going to get married, we have to get married.”
“I want to get married,” Mary said, a huge wave of relief washing over her.
“I know you do, and so do I.” Anthony took her hand across the kitchen island, and Mary felt her eyes well up all over again.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Anthony smiled, a little sadly. “But we have to change this. What I realized, somewhere over the Grand Canyon, is that we don’t have to wait to be in a church to get married. Our wedding isn’t when we get married. We marry each other when we decide to do things together—and only together. Now is when we get married. Right here.”
Mary listened quietly, not only because her heart was eased, but because Anthony was making so much sense and his emotional intelligence was one of the things she loved most about him.
“By the way, I think we make this mistake because we met each other when we were older. We’re too accustomed to operating on our own. But it can’t stay that way. You can’t go around becoming guardians for children and installing them in our house.” Anthony gestured upstairs. “As cute as Patrick is, and as deserving, there’s a child I don’t even know sleeping under my roof. I can’t have that. That’s not how married people act.”
“That’s not how it works,” Mary said, borrowing Patrick’s phrase.
“Right.” Anthony smiled, less sadly. “And I can’t go to UCLA and decide to interview for a job there and then come home and tell you that you have to move to California. I don’t know what I was thinking. Because you can’t get Mary DiNunzio out of Philadelphia.”
“Aw.” Mary smiled. “So what did you do about the job?”
“I interviewed, they offered it to me, and I turned it down.”
“You did?” Mary felt delighted and dismayed, both at once. “Oh, Anthony, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you made that sacrifice.”
“I did it, because somebody had to go first.” Anthony’s expression darkened. “But I’m going to ask you to make a sacrifice, in return. Patrick is here for the time being, and I’m going to welcome him. He deserves that, and I’m totally on board. But you have to give him up when the time comes. We’re fostering him, not adopting him.” Anthony squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to start my life and my marriage with a ten-year-old child. I don’t want a teenager in three years. When I thought about it on the flight to LA, I realized that that was what scared me. That you wouldn’t let him go. We talked about traveling, we made plans. And when the time comes to have a baby, I want a baby of our own.”
Mary felt the words resonate in her chest. “I want the same thing, I do.”
“So that’s the deal, then. I know it won’t be easy for him, you, or me either. And you know who else it won’t be easy for? Your parents, who are already in love with him.”
“I told them it can’t be forever.”
“It can’t be.”
“I know. I agree.”
“Good.” Anthony rose with a soft smile and held Mary’s hand as he walked around the island. “Here. Now. Will you marry me?”
“Aw, yes.” Mary stood up and kissed him lightly, then with feeling, and she felt the love that flowed between them, binding them one to the other.
“Now we’re married.” Anthony brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“Yes, and from now on we’re going to act married. Decisions made together. Jointly.” Mary was about to kiss him again but her phone started ringing. She took it from her pocket and checked the screen to see that it was Machiavelli. She hesitated to take the call, but the Complaint in Common Pleas Court was still viable and she still wanted to back him down from deposing Patrick. “Anthony, do you mind? I should take this call.”
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you out back.” Anthony kissed her on the cheek, picked up his cup and saucer, and went out to the patio.
Mary answered Machiavelli’s call. “What do you want?”
“I read about what happened to you in the Northeast.” Machiavelli sounded unusually somber. “Glad to hear you’re alive, and I’m sorry about what I did in my office.”
“Fine, I have to go. Never call me for a personal reason again.”
“I’m not calling for a personal reason. I’m calling for a business reason.”
“What is it?”
“Steven Robertson was arrested tonight for rape and sexual assault on a nine-year-old boy in his neighborhood.”
“My God!” Mary said, appalled.
“I know, I’m disgusted, too.”
Mary didn’t know if she could trust him. “Is this true or one of your schemes?”
“Objection to form, but it’s true.”
“So Robertson’s in jail?” Mary couldn’t process it fast enough.
“Yes. He’s asked me to represent him, but I declined. In addition, I’m withdrawing from representing him in the civil case against the O’Brien estate and the school district. I refuse to represent anyone who lies to me.”
Mary didn’t know if Machiavelli was trying to redeem himself after his conduct, or if he was trying to prove to her that he didn’t know that Robertson had attacked Patrick at school. Either way, it was good news.
“You don’t have to thank me, Mary.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Mary realized that Robertson’s arrest vindicated Patrick’s side of the story, so the Complaint was less credible now, anyway.
“And don’t think you won. We live to fight another day. The day I’m in court against you, you’ll lose and you’ll lose big.”
“Don’t hold your breath. On second thought, do.” Mary hung up, hugely relieved. Patrick wouldn’t have to undergo any deposition, which was great.
Suddenly her phone started ringing again, and she looked at the screen to see that it was Lou. He was probably calling about what had happened to her, since he hadn’t been in this morning when she’d filled them all in.
Mary pressed Answer. “Lou, hi. Thanks for calling, but I’m fine.”
“Good, but guess who’s with me at the office?”
“Who?”
“Patrick’s father.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
“What the hell?” Mary closed her office door with Lou and John inside. As soon as she’d hung up with Lou, she’d called John and asked him to come in, as her family law expert. They’d agreed to talk privately before they went into the conference room, where Patrick’s alleged father was supposedly waiting.
“Mary, stay calm. We’ll get this sorted.” John took the seat next to Lou, crossing his leg. He still had on the clothes he’d worn to court, minus the tie and jacket, and he looked characteristically composed.
“Mare, he’s right, I don’t know why you’re so damn upset.” Lou groaned as he eased into the other chair. His polo shirt had a new mustard stain on the front, and his slacks were wrinkled. “You wanted me to find this kid’s relatives, cousins, uncles, whatever. I found his father. I thought you’d be happy!”
“Lou, I appreciate what you did. Thank you.” Mary leaned against the credenza, too antsy to sit at her desk. “But this is a huge surprise. Edward told me Patrick’s father was dead. His father hasn’t been in Patrick’s life ever. Patrick thinks his father is dead. I don’t know if I believe that it’s really his father. That’s why.”
“It’s him,” Lou said, matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know that,” Mary shot back, more sharply than she intended
. She couldn’t begin to control her emotions. She’d rushed out of the house, grabbed a cab, and gotten to the office as quickly as she could, leaving a bewildered Anthony to babysit.
John raised a hand like a referee. “Point of law. This man’s paternity is not yet established. Proceed from there.”
Mary repeated, “Edward told me that Patrick’s father is dead.”
Lou threw up his hands. “So you said, but I looked into it. That’s what you wanted me to do. Remember, you asked me to do this?”
“How did you look into it? What did you find out? How?”
“Basic police work, like in the old days. Except it was easier because nobody’s hiding.” Lou slid a skinny notebook from the back pocket of his slacks, then flipped the cover open. “I went to City Hall, trying to run down anybody on Edward’s side. You know how many people are named O’Brien in Philly? Don’t ask.”
Mary leaned against the credenza, willing herself to be patient, since this was the day when nobody wanted to tell her anything quickly enough. In contrast to her, John folded his long arms and listened quietly, since he was congenitally patient.
Lou continued, “So I thought, let me look up Patrick’s birth certificate, and I did. Suzanne, his mother, musta filled it out, and where the father is supposed to be listed, it says ‘unknown.’ So she didn’t put his name on. She didn’t list the father.”
John interjected, “She doesn’t have to.”
Lou turned, surprised. “She doesn’t have to put the father’s name on the birth certificate?”
“No.” John shook his head. “Let me give you the fundamentals of paternity law in Pennsylvania. Everything depends on the marital status of the mother at the time of the child’s birth. If she’s married, her husband is presumed to be the biological father unless they both give a written acknowledgment identifying another person as the biological father. If she’s not married, which presumably is our situation, she doesn’t have to put anybody on the birth certificate.”
Mary listened, letting John’s professorial tone soothe her.
“In fact, if the mother isn’t married, the father is identified on the birth certificate only if both parents also sign a voluntary acknowledgment of paternity, called an AOP, or if a court has made the determination.” John paused. “In my pro bono work, when I represent indigent unmarried mothers, I always advise them to get an AOP and get the father’s name on the birth certificate. If they don’t, they can’t go after him for child support and he has no rights to visitation. But a single mother who doesn’t intend to seek child support and who doesn’t want the father to have visitation or other rights, is so signifying by not putting his name on the birth certificate.”
Lou shook his head, frowning. “It’s like it doesn’t matter if he’s the father.”
John shook his head again. “No, the point is that the law distinguishes between a biological father and a legal father. Every child has a biological father, but not every child has a legal father. Patrick has a biological father, which may or may not be this man. But Patrick doesn’t have a legal father because there’s no father’s name on his birth certificate. Right now, Mary is the closest thing he has to a legal parent because she was declared his legal guardian today.”
Lou looked at Mary, his regret plain. “Mare, sorry I didn’t let you know. I woulda but my phone ran out of battery. I left without my charger.”
Mary didn’t want to give him a hard time. “So tell us what you found out.”
“Well, you gave me a few facts to start with.” Lou glanced at his notebook. “Edward gets married in 1983 at the age of forty. He marries Patty, who’s thirty-two. They have a daughter two years later, in 1985, that’s Suzanne, Patrick’s mother. You told me Suzanne dropped out of Penn State when she got pregnant. I assumed she was class of 2006 and I also assumed she went to the main campus because everybody wants the main campus. My niece, she woulda killed to get on the main campus—”
“So you went up there, to State College?” Mary hadn’t seen this coming. It was about a three-hour drive.
“Yes, sure.”
“Really?” Mary couldn’t make herself sound happy about it, but she wasn’t unhappy yet, either. She still couldn’t believe that the man in the conference room was really Patrick’s father. She was trying to process it, after a long and difficult day.
“Mare, I drove to the boonies for you. Gimme credit, would you?” Lou opened his palms in appeal, his gray eyebrows flying upward. “I went the extra mile, I thought you wanted to find this kid’s relatives.”
“I know, thank you,” Mary said, too anxious to feel truly grateful. “So then what happened?”
“I went to the registrar’s office, told them the situation, and since Suzanne passed, they took pity on me and showed me her records. She was in the Schreyer Honors College, a smart cookie. She lived in Atherton Hall, and I found out who the residence advisors used to be.” Lou checked his pad again. “The residence advisor for her floor was Julia Thomas, and one of the girls in the registrar’s office knew her. She told me that Thomas got her graduate degree and she still works at Penn State, in the admissions department. So I went there and I asked her do you remember Suzanne O’Brien and do you remember who she was dating when she dropped out?”
“But he’s supposed to be dead!”
“What can I tell you? He ain’t. Julia told me that Suzanne had a steady boyfriend and his name was Norman Lavigne. He sang in a band that used to play in a restaurant. Suzanne worked as a waitress in the same restaurant. That’s how they met.”
“I just don’t believe this.”
John folded his arms again, saying nothing.
Lou checked his notebook again. “The name of the restaurant is The Vines, and it’s a brewpub. So I went over to the restaurant and I started asking around about Suzanne O’Brien and Norm Lavigne, and it turns out that Lavigne’s father Bill owned the restaurant. Bill would be Patrick’s grandfather, but he’s dead and so’s his wife.”
“Why didn’t Norm Lavigne come forward before? Why is he coming forward now? Did he ditch her when he found out Suzanne was pregnant? Or did she ditch him? How do you know he’s the real—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Lou put up both hands. “Mare, don’t get crazy. Norm should answer these questions. He wants to.”
“I don’t want him to,” Mary heard herself say, then couldn’t believe the words had slipped out of her mouth.
“Why not?” Lou frowned, mystified.
John looked over at Mary, pursing his lips, but behind his glasses, his eyes looked knowing.
Mary answered, “Lou, I just got Patrick, I became his guardian today. He met my parents, and Anthony’s on board. We’re going to orientation at his new school tomorrow. He’s finally going to get help. I have it all set up.”
“Mare.” Lou recoiled. “It’s the boy’s father.”
John shook his head. “We don’t know that. Remember, Lou. We have to proceed slowly. This man could be a fraud.”
“Totally!” Mary’s mind raced, her emotions tumbling over one another. “He could be a total fraud, coming out of the woodwork because he believes Patrick has money. Or for all we know, Machiavelli sent him. Maybe it’s one of his schemes. Ask yourself, why didn’t DHS find this Lavigne?”
John interjected, “DHS follows if there is a legal father named in the birth certificate. If there’s no legal father, they end their inquiry. They don’t have the resources to search for biological fathers, especially if he hasn’t surfaced in a decade.” John gestured toward the conference room. “Let me do the talking when we go in there. Even if Lavigne is the biological father, he’ll have to go to court to establish paternity and become the legal father. Right now we have all the cards and that’s the way I want to keep it.”
Lou frowned. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Mary’s ears pricked up, listening as John answered:
“I represent Mary, and she has to make a decision about what’s best
for Patrick. Even if Lavigne is Patrick’s biological father, she doesn’t have to hand Patrick over to him. In fact, she can’t. Only a court can do that. If Lavigne is the biological father, he’ll have to prove it by a DNA swab and petition the court for paternity. He can do that now or anytime until Patrick turns eighteen. And if Lavigne does try to do that, Mary can decide how she wants to react. She may oppose Lavigne’s petition, if she wishes.”
Lou frowned more deeply. “Why would she, if Lavigne is the real father? I mean, the biological father?”
“That’s Mary’s decision,” John answered calmly. “She may not think Lavigne is an adequate parent or she may have other reasons. Mary doesn’t know anything about Lavigne, and neither do I. Our job is to preserve her options. She has a legal right to make that decision. So when we go into the conference room, I don’t want any of us to say anything that would negate Mary’s rights.”
“Okay.” Lou rose slowly, then placed a heavy hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Come on, he can tell you the whole story.”
“Let’s go.” John stood up, brushing down his pants.
Mary still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “He came all the way here from State College?”
Lou squeezed her shoulder. “No, they live closer in Reading. They followed me back in their car.”
“They?”
“Him and his wife. She’s a real sweetheart. Amanda.” Lou sighed, exhaling heavily. “You been under a lot of strain lately, kiddo. I don’t blame you bein’ upset. Let’s go hear what he has to say.”
“I agree.” John shot Mary a reassuring look.
Lou flashed her a final smile. “Mare, look on the bright side. If you hadn’t done everything you did, we never woulda known Patrick’s father was really alive.”
John looked over, but said nothing.
Mary set her emotions aside and opened the door.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Everybody shook hands, introducing themselves and forcing smiles despite the undercurrent of tension. Nobody offered anybody coffee, and the air in the conference room smelled stale. Outside the window the night sky had gone black, except for the stacked squares of windows where office lights were on. They usually reminded Mary of waffles, but that was when she was in a better mood, not now.