I Will Find You(65)

I see no reason to argue and perhaps she’s right. I stare at the logo and shake my head. “This isn’t a coincidence.”

“Of course it is. I just wish you could have understood.”

“Oh, I understood,” I say, my voice surprisingly matter-of-fact. “I was shooting blanks. It was putting a strain on our marriage. Cheryl figured maybe she could get pregnant with a donor and claim the baby was mine. I’m surprised she just didn’t fuck another guy and cut out the middleman.”

“That’s not fair, David.”

“Who’s she married to now, Rachel?” I counter. “You didn’t tell me that part.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s Ronald, isn’t it?”

She says nothing. I feel my heart crack again. “Just a friend. That’s what she kept saying.”

“That’s all he was.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be na?ve.”

“I’m not saying Ronald didn’t hope for—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say because it’s true and I can’t listen to another word of this. “The only thing I care about now is finding Matthew.”

“And you think this”—she points at the stupid stork logo—“is the answer?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How?”

But I don’t have the answer, so we sit in silence for a while.

After some time passes, Rachel says, “Are you still going to meet with that Skunk guy?”

“Yes.”

“You better go then.”

“Yes.” I look at her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” she says.

I keep looking at her.

“It’s just a coincidence,” Rachel says. “Nothing more.”

And I don’t know if she’s trying to convince me or herself.





Chapter

26



Pixie?”

Gertrude turned away from the window with the magnificent view and toward the little boy. This Payne house, completed only four years ago, was altogether different from the museum-quality Payne House of yesteryear. Yes, the property was expansive. There was a tennis court and swimming pool and horse trails and all that. But instead of the old mammoth tomb-like marble, this estate was light, airy, postmodern modern, a complex of white cubes and wall-to-ceiling windows. It surprised guests, but Gertrude loved it.

“Yes, Theo?”

“Where’s Dad?”

She smiled at him. Theo was pure light despite all the darkness. He was a good boy, kind, intelligent, thoughtful. He spoke not only English but French and German as well, because he had spent most of his life at a boarding school in St. Gallen. The Swiss school had fewer than three hundred students, horse stables, mountain climbing, sailing, and cost nearly $200,000 per year. Hayden, not wanting to be an absentee father, spent a lot of time in the area. This had been the boys’ (that was how she thought of them) first journey back to the United States in a long while. They’d been staying at the Payne estate with her now for three months. Gertrude had been in favor of the trip. She was getting older and wanted to spend time with them.

But it had been a mistake.

From behind the boy, Hayden entered the room. “I’m right here, buddy.”

Hayden put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. The boy blinked. This had been his issue from the start. He was a wonderful boy, truly, and after the initial transition stage, he seemed to be in a decent place. But there was a skittishness to Theo, a wince and a cringe almost as though he expected to be struck. He wouldn’t be. He hadn’t been. But sometimes, even though the boy didn’t know the truth, it was as if something inside of him, something primordial, did and involuntarily threw up safeguards.

Hayden gave Gertrude a tight smile, and she could see immediately that something was wrong. She summoned Stephano, who would lead Theo outside to play. Stephano closed the door behind them, giving grandmother and grandson some privacy, though Stephano was privy to all the family skullduggeries.

“What is it, Hayden?” she asked.

“He assaulted a police officer.”

She had not yet checked the news. While Gertrude understood technology and the completely connected world, she believed that the secret to longevity was a mix of routine and new experiences. Her mornings, though, always started the same way. Seven a.m. wake up. Twenty minutes of stretching. Twenty minutes of meditation. Coffee and a novel for an hour if time permitted. Then, and only then, did she bother with the news. As she aged, she realized that the news became more about entertainment—stressful entertainment at that—than enlightenment.

“I assume they captured him?”

“No. Not yet.”

That surprised her. David Burroughs was more resourceful than she’d imagined. “You can’t stay. You know that.”

“Do you think David knows something?”

Something? Yes. But there was no way he could know enough. “This assault,” she said. “Where did it take place?”

“New York City.”

Gertrude didn’t understand. “Do they know why he was there?”

“The rumors are he was seeking revenge on a witness.”