Chapter 8: The Date That Shouldn't Exist
Warren picked up the document with both hands.
For several seconds, he couldn't make himself read it.
His father's name was unmistakable. The signature had the same broad first letter and the same sharp downward stroke Warren remembered from birthday cards and handwritten notes tucked into lunch bags when he was a boy.
But the date was impossible.
Three months after his father had been buried.
“What is this?”” Warren whispered.
Curtis pulled out a chair.
“It's a copy of a letter your father wrote.””
“That doesn't make sense.””
“I know.””
“My father was dead.””
“I know that, too.””
Warren slapped the paper onto the table.
“Then explain how a dead man signed a letter three months after his funeral!””
Curtis flinched, but he didn't retreat.
“The date may have been added when the letter was copied. I can't tell you that part with certainty.””
Warren stared at him.
“You brought me a document you can't even explain?””
“I brought you what I have.””
“What you have?”” Warren repeated.
“You've apparently been keeping secrets about my father, my son, and my ex-wife. Don't stand there acting like you're doing me a favor.””
Curtis lowered his head.
Rochelle stepped forward.
“Warren, listen to him.””
He turned on her.
“You knew about this?””
“I knew your father had left something.””
“Since when?””
She hesitated.
“Before Eli was born.””
Warren stared at her as if he no longer recognized the woman standing in front of him.
“Before my son was born?””
“Yes.””
“And you never told me?””
“I was asked not to.””
“By whom?””
Rochelle looked at Curtis.
Curtis closed his eyes briefly.
“By your father.””
Warren let out a hollow laugh.
“My father was dead before Eli was born. How exactly did he ask you not to tell me?””
“He left instructions,” Curtis said.
“What instructions?””
“That we should wait until the right time.””
Warren dragged a hand over his face.
“The right time? You let me spend years believing I knew everything about my own family, and now you're telling me there were secret instructions from a dead man?””
“Warren, your father wasn't trying to hurt you.””
“Then why didn't he tell me whatever this is?””
Curtis had no answer.
The silence was unbearable.
Warren paced toward the window, then turned back.
“Start at the beginning. No more mysterious papers. No more half-answers. Tell me what my father knew, what Rochelle knew, and why Eli is suddenly afraid that I might disappear with him.””
Curtis glanced at Rochelle.
She shook her head slightly.
Warren saw it.
“Don't you dare do that again.””
Both adults looked at him.
“I'm standing right here,” Warren continued.
“I'm Eli's father. If this concerns him, I have a right to know.””
Curtis nodded slowly.
“All right.””
He took a seat and placed both hands on his knees.
“Before your father died, he discovered that someone in the family had been keeping a significant secret. He asked me to help him understand it. By the time he passed away, he hadn't resolved everything.””
“What secret?””
Curtis hesitated.
“Your father believed there was a child connected to our family whose existence had been concealed.””
Warren stared at him.
“A child?””
“Yes.””
“Whose child?””
“I don't know for certain.””
Warren shook his head.
“This is ridiculous.””
“I understand why it sounds that way.””
“No, you don't. You're telling me my father spent his final months investigating a secret child, and nobody thought I deserved to know?””
Curtis's expression tightened.
“He didn't want to accuse anyone without proof.””
“Proof of what?””
“That's what he was looking for.””
Warren turned toward Rochelle.
“Why are you involved?””
Her eyes filled again.
“Because your father came to see me.””
“When?””
“Shortly before he died.””
Warren felt his stomach twist.
“Why would my father come to you?””
“He wanted to ask me some questions.””
“About what?””
She looked at the floor.
“About you.””
Warren laughed once, without humor.
“What could you possibly have known about me that my own father didn't?””
Rochelle didn't answer.
He stepped closer.
“Rochelle.””
She lifted her eyes.
“He wanted to know whether you had ever told me about a promise you'd made when you were younger.””
Warren froze.
A memory stirred.
His father had once asked him to come to the garage when Warren was twenty-two. They had sat on overturned buckets while his father repaired an old lawn mower, and the conversation had turned unexpectedly serious.
His father had told him that a man's worth wasn't measured by the mistakes he made, but by whether he took responsibility for them.
Then he had asked Warren to promise that he would never abandon a child who needed him.
Warren had laughed and asked why his father was suddenly talking like a preacher.
His father hadn't laughed back.
One day, you might learn that family is bigger than the people you see every morning, he had said.
Warren had assumed it was general advice.
Now the memory returned with unsettling clarity.
He looked at Curtis.
“Did my father think I had a child somewhere?””
“I can't tell you what he believed with certainty.””
“Did he?””
Curtis's silence lasted too long.
Warren felt his heartbeat in his throat.
“Answer me!””
“I believe he suspected something,” Curtis said.
“But I never saw proof that he knew the identity of the child, or even whether the information he received was accurate.””
Warren stepped back.
A secret child.
A letter dated after a funeral.
A frightened ex-wife.
His uncle warning him that there were things he didn't know about Eli.
None of it fit together.
And yet Rochelle was looking at him with the expression of someone who had been waiting for this confrontation for years.
Warren turned toward her.
“What does any of this have to do with my son?””
She wiped her cheeks.
“Your father told me that one day, the truth might come back to our family.””
“And?””
“And he told me to protect Eli if it did.””
Warren's blood ran cold.
“Protect him from whom?””
Rochelle shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You're lying.””
“I'm not!””
“Then why did you tell Eli I might take him away? Why did you block the door? Why did you let me stand outside for two hours, arguing about money, when you knew there was something else going on?””
Her face crumpled.
“Because I was scared!””
“Of what?””
She covered her mouth, fighting to control her breathing.
Curtis stood.
“Warren, we need to slow down.””
“No. We needed to have this conversation weeks ago.””
He turned back to Rochelle.
“Did you think I would hurt Eli?””
“No.””
“Did you think I would abandon him?””
“No.””
“Then what were you afraid of?””
Rochelle looked toward the window.
For a moment, Warren thought she might finally answer.
Instead, she whispered, “I was afraid that once you learned the truth, you would never look at me the same way again.””
Warren felt the room grow silent around him.
“What truth?””
Rochelle's hands trembled.
Before she could speak, a small voice came from the hallway.
“Mommy?””
All three adults turned.
Eli stood at the entrance, his dinosaur hanging loosely from one hand.
He looked at Rochelle, then at Warren.
“Is Daddy going to be mad at me?””
Warren moved toward him immediately.
“No, buddy. Never.””
Eli glanced at the document on the table.
“Is that the paper Mommy said you weren't supposed to see?””
Rochelle went pale.
Curtis stopped breathing for a moment.
Warren crouched in front of his son.
“What paper, Eli?””
The boy pointed toward the coffee table.
“The one with my name on it.””
Warren slowly turned back toward the document.
He had been so focused on his father's signature that he hadn't noticed the smaller line printed beneath it.
There, in faded type, was Eli's full name.
May you like
And beside it was another name Warren had never expected to see.
His own.
