An Unfinished Story(85)

Whitaker turned and started back toward the table. “Yes, definitely. Where? What time?”

“Bay Vista Park at the end of Fourth Street South. Nine o’clock in the morning. He’ll be with his case manager. I’ll text you her number once we get off the phone.”

“Thank you so much, Laura. This means everything to us.”

“Just take care of Oliver. That’s all that matters to me. I don’t know what you’re expecting, but he’s been through a lot. Just know that. Okay?”

“Absolutely.”

Her tone turned more somber. “I’ve told him about David’s passing. He needed to be prepared.”

“How’d he take it?”

“He’s a tough kid, as many are in the system. But it certainly tore him up. He’s looking forward to meeting Claire. I think he has a lot of questions.”

I think everyone does, Whitaker thought. “Where has he been?”

“He’s been living with a great foster family near the park. Been with them for two years now, and he seems happy and stabilized. That’s why you need to proceed carefully.”

“We will. I promise.” Whitaker realized how little he understood about the life of a foster child. No amount of research could paint a true picture. He thanked Laura, said goodbye, and returned to the table.

The women were staring at him.

Whitaker couldn’t help but smile at their victory. “She found Oliver. And we’re meeting him at Bay Vista Park down south at nine tomorrow morning.” He put his hands on Claire’s shoulders while she was still seated. “We did it, Claire.” He could feel the tension running through her.



“You haven’t spent the night with him yet?” Didi asked, driving Claire back to Pass-a-Grille.

“Not yet, no.”

“What are you waiting for? If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.” Didi pressed the pedal hard as the light turned green.

“I want him,” Claire said. “We’re just taking it slow.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I think you two make an adorable couple.” Didi put up her hand at the person driving in front of her. “Get in the right lane, slowpoke!”

“Trust me. I like him a lot. Just working through the last of my stuff. He knows how I feel about him.”

Didi glanced at Claire. “Are you terrified about tomorrow?”

Claire breathed in the heavy question. “Even Whitaker couldn’t put into words the trepidation I feel.”

“It’s going to be all right.”

“I know . . .” Claire hoped so desperately that Oliver was David’s only secret. It was the only one she could possibly bear. “There’s still this nagging feeling eating at me. What if I find something out that destroys my love for him?”

“You may.” Didi switched lanes again. “But something tells me you will love him twice as much after tomorrow.”

Claire smiled and lost herself in the stars. That was a nice thought. Either way, she wouldn’t miss this meeting for the world.





Chapter 34

THE SILVER LINING

In a weak attempt to distract Claire from her morning thoughts, Whitaker pointed out a Tampa Bay Rays player’s waterfront home on the way to Bay Vista Park. It didn’t work. She had a one-track mind and couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Reaching the southeastern tip of St. Pete, they pulled into the parking lot of the park, which was on Tampa Bay.

A gazebo stood at the end of a long pier that faced the Sunshine Skyway Bridge, which had taken them to Sarasota almost three weeks before. People were making good use of the park today. A line of trucks with boat trailers waited to ease their boat down the landing. The playground was full of kids swinging on the swings, climbing the towers, and sliding down poles.

As she reached for the car door handle, a tsunami of anxiety hit her. To think it all came down to this.

“I don’t see him,” Claire said, scanning the park through the windshield as her skin tingled.

“They’ll be here.” He put his hand on her arm. “Remember, as nervous as we are, he is too. He’s been through a lot.”

Snapping the car doors shut, they crossed into the lush grass. Claire scrutinized the people around the playground. No kids old enough to be him. Then she saw him near the seawall.

Finding it suddenly hard to breathe, she pointed and muttered, “I think that’s him.” Actually, she knew it was him.

Whitaker followed her gaze toward the sheltered picnic tables on the southern end of the park.

A woman and a boy were standing up from one of the picnic tables. Claire knew the woman was Kari, Oliver’s case manager. She was dressed like a teacher in blue pants and a blue-and-white striped shirt. Oliver wore a baseball shirt, mesh shorts, and bright running shoes.

Claire’s throat closed for a second, and her heart scraped at her rib cage. Amid the nervous jitters pecking at every part of her, the fear of potentially learning things she’d rather not know, she also felt a good deal of excitement, like this adventure she’d been on since finding the composition books had led her to this exact moment.

They walked in silence toward Oliver and his case manager. Though the boy in the photograph was eleven, the young man standing before them was one and the same. He was taller than in the photo, maybe three inches shorter than Whitaker. He had brilliantly blue eyes that looked both curious and skeptical. His hair was the same as it was in the photo, straight and long, long enough to cover his eyes if he didn’t push it to the right. He was a good-looking boy, still so young. Too cute to be called a man, still a few months from sprouting. Awkward he was, but only because everyone was awkward at fourteen.