Finding Isadora(37)

“No. Upset, but not nuts. And I do see your point, sweetheart. But what do you plan to do?” I snapped my fingers. “Blood types. You could at least tell if Gabriel could be your father.”

“He could. He and Diane and I are all O positive. No, it has to be DNA. I have to ask him to be tested.”

“Oh my. That’s going to be tough.” On both men. “I understand why you want to know, but do you think Gabriel will?”

“Why would he care one way or the other?”

He sounded so angry, so hurt, that I squeezed my eyes shut in sympathy. Why would a man care if someone was his biological son? The fact that Richard could say such a thing spoke volumes about his and Gabriel’s relationship. I wanted to ask Richard to be sensitive to Gabriel’s feelings, but it seemed Gabriel had never worried about Richard’s.

“I don’t know if he’d care,” I murmured, even though my instincts told me Gabriel would, and deeply. I reached across the table and gripped both Richard’s hands. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He squeezed back. “It’s helped just telling you about it. I don’t feel like I’m alone with this any more.”

“When are you going to talk to your … to Gabriel?” And would Gabriel have someone to turn to, so he wouldn’t feel alone?

“As soon as I can. Now that I’ve made up my mind, I want to know as soon as possible.”

“And if he’s not your biological father?”

“God, I don’t know. Mom does remember the other guys—I guess the names would kind of stick in her memory since one of them could be my dad—but she didn’t keep track of what happened to them. I suppose I’d try the Internet and University alumni association, and see if they turned up. And then I’d meet with them and—well, that’d be a tough conversation.”

“So I guess you’re hoping Gabriel does turn out to be your father.”

His eyes widened in surprise, then he gave a rueful laugh. “I suppose I am. Boy, that’s a first.”

If Gabriel did prove to be Richard’s biological father, would the bond between the two men be strengthened? Or would Gabriel react to Diane’s dishonesty and take it out on Richard?

Richard paid the bill and added a substantial tip for our poor confused waitress.

As we strolled toward my apartment hand in hand, toting our bags of leftovers, we’d both run out of words, and that was fine by me. He’d given me so much to think about. For now, it was nice to just walk together, feel comfortable together. The night was overcast, but warm and not raining, and the streets were crowded with people on their way to and from movies, dinners, drinks—or just on the prowl.

At the entrance to my building we stopped and faced each other. “Coming in?” I asked.

Richard kissed me gently, without a touch of passion. “Not tonight, Iz. I’d be rotten company.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Thanks, anyhow. I’m going to head back to the office and do some work. It’ll take my mind off all of this.” He hugged me tightly. “Thanks for being here for me. You’re not just my fiancée, you’re a true friend.”

Reflecting on everything he’d told me tonight, I went inside and slowly climbed the stairs. As I turned the key in my lock, a thought struck me as forcefully as a blow. I gasped and fumbled the key, then managed to turn it and darted inside. Ignoring Pogo’s scrabbling at my legs and Owl’s greeting, I headed straight for the phone.

Grace answered. At the sound of her familiar voice I found myself saying, “Mom?”

There was no response. The word must have surprised Grace as much as it surprised me. I’d never called my parents Mother and Father or Mom and Dad. They had always been—had always wanted to be—Grace and Jimmy Lee. So where had Mom come from?

“What’s wrong, Isadora?”

I took a deep breath, then said it. “Is Jimmy Lee my real father?”

“What?” Grace’s voice was an incredulous squeak. “Of course he’s your father. What are you talking about?”

“I mean, is he my biological father?”

“Yes! Isadora, what’s going on?”

“How do you know he is? I mean, you and Jimmy Lee have always believed in free love, so how can you be sure?”

“Oh. Okay, now I see where you’re coming from, hon. Well, I can be sure because you were no accident.”

“Really?” I sagged against the kitchen counter, weak with relief. It had never occurred to me that my disorganized parents had actually planned to have a child. For some reason we’d never had this discussion before, and I’d always assumed I was the product of carelessness with respect to birth control.

Grace gave a patient sigh. “You know Jimmy Lee and I met in college, right? When he came up from Georgia to attend Boston University? We connected right away, had the same values even though we came from such different backgrounds.”

My mother’s family were blue-blood northern snobs and Jimmy Lee’s were redneck southern crackers. Amazing that both sets of parents had managed to spawn left-wing activists.

“Grace, I know all this. He burned his draft card, the two of you came to Canada. Get to the point.”

“We were together a long time and went through a lot together. We knew we shared something special, quite different from with the other people we slept with.”