The Match (Wilde, #2)(22)
“Will you come by and see me and the kids?”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t a quid pro quo . I’ll get you the info anyway.”
“I know,” Wilde said. “I love you, Rola.”
“Yeah, I know. Are you back from Costa Rica?”
“Yes.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that. You back in the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Damn.”
“It’s all good.”
“I know,” Rola said. “That’s the problem. I’ll see what I can dig up on PB&J, but I doubt it’ll lead anywhere.”
He hung up and headed back inside. Laila was gone from the room. Matthew was half watching the second half, half surfing or whatever on his laptop. Wilde collapsed onto the couch next to him.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked.
“She’s upstairs working. You know she’s got a boyfriend?”
Wilde chose to answer the question with a question. “You okay with it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”
“Just asking.”
“Not up to me.”
“True,” Wilde said.
The game came out of commercial. Matthew folded his arms and focused on the screen. “Darryl’s a little too polished.”
Wilde gave a noncommittal “Oh.”
“Like he never uses contractions. It’s always ‘I am’ never ‘I’m.’ ‘Do not’ instead of ‘don’t.’ Annoys the shit out of me.”
Wilde said nothing.
“He’s got matching silk pajamas. Black. Looks like a suit. Even his workout clothes match.”
Wilde continued to say nothing.
“No thoughts?”
“He sounds like an ogre,” Wilde said.
“Right?”
“Not right. We let your mom do what makes her happy.”
“If you say so.”
They fell into a comfortable silence the same way Wilde used to with Matthew’s father.
A few minutes later, Matthew said, “Observation.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re distracted, Wilde. Or if I was Darryl, I would say, ‘You are distracted, Wilde.’”
Wilde couldn’t help but smile. “I could see how that would be annoying.”
“Right?”
“I met my biological father.”
“Wait, what?”
Wilde nodded. Matthew sat up and turned all his attention to Wilde. His father used to do this too—one of those people who had the ability to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. Spilling his guts was hardly Wilde’s forte, but perhaps he owed Matthew at least that much after his stupid vanishing act.
“He lives in Las Vegas.”
“Cool. Like in a casino?”
“No. He’s in construction.”
“How did you find him?”
“One of those ancestry DNA sites.”
“Wow. So you went to Vegas?”
“Yep.”
Matthew spread his hands. “And?”
“And he didn’t know I existed and doesn’t know who the mother is.”
Matthew stayed quiet while Wilde elaborated. When he finished, Matthew frowned and said, “Odd.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t remember her name.”
“Why is that odd?”
Matthew frowned again. “Okay, you, well, you sleep with a lot of women, so maybe you don’t remember all their names. I get that. It’s gross, Wilde. But I get it.”
“Thanks.”
“But your father? This Daniel Carter? He’d only slept with one girl before this. He only slept with one girl—the same girl—after this. You’d think that he’d remember the names of the girls in between.”
“You think he lied to me?”
Matthew shrugged. “I just find it odd, that’s all.”
“You’re young.”
“So was your father at the time you were conceived.”
Wilde nodded. “Good point.”
“You should call and push him a little.”
Wilde didn’t reply.
“Don’t just call it quits, Wilde.”
“I haven’t. Kind of the opposite, in fact.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s why I raised this with you. I wanted your input on something.”
A smile broke out on Matthew’s face. “Sure.”
“I heard from another relative on the site. He calls himself PB.”
Wilde showed Matthew the most recent message from PB. Matthew read it twice and said, “Wait, this message came in when?”
“Four months ago.”
“Is there an exact date?”
“It’s right there. Why?”
Matthew kept staring at the message. “Why didn’t you reply before now?”
“I didn’t see it.”
Matthew stared at the screen some more. “So that’s it.”