The Family Man

"She is hard to say no to," I said.

"She is that. You've done a wonderful job raising her."

"Thank you." I felt lighter. It was the second time someone had complimented my mothering in one day. It was silly that I needed outside verification of something I should have known. Silly that I still didn't completely believe it. "Can I ask why you gave me the cold shoulder in the first place?"

"Well..." Eric was fighting for the words. It was nice to seem him slightly flustered, cute the way his eyes drifted around as if the answer was written on the walls. "It wouldn't have gone so well with Jake if he knew we were talking. He would have felt we were teaming up on him, kicked up his defenses and sent me packing."

"You could have just told me that."

"There are other reasons." Eric's face struggled, scrunching and unscrunching as he tried to put words to his thoughts. "I don't stick in one place for very long. Friends can become a liability I prefer not to take on. I'm not sure I'm explaining this right. It's all mixed with some past history that's been dogging me most of my life."

"Past history?" Eric wasn't prosecuted, at least not in this country. I wondered if Terrance missed something or if it was more immoral than illegal.

"Let's just say, there was a point in my life where success meant more than anything else. Events unfolded with me in the front steering toward an inevitable conclusion. Victory at a very high cost. Looking back, I find it difficult to live with." Eric visibly sighed, "But live with it I must."

"You're not going to tell me what it was," I said, adding a smile to let him know I thought the past was the past. The man before me had honest regrets and certainly didn't feel like a threat to Maria and I. It was probably some business deal that bankrupted the unwary, or maybe a foreclosure on the desperate. He didn't strike me as the violent type.

"No," Eric said, returning my smile.

"You do know that giving Maria the Barbie has guaranteed you a friend. Two friends with all the liability that implies."

"In my defense, I was a little strapped for time, and all the stores were closed. Had to improvise." It was the second time we shared a chuckle. It was getting easier, and I was enjoying it.

"Mom, come see where I put it!" Maria called from her bedroom.

"Liabilities," I repeated, rising from my seat and holding out my hand. Eric rose and placed his hand in mine, uncomfortable at first, then he let it settle in as I took him to view Maria's trophy display. It made me smile inside, knowing he'd have to listen to an explanation of each and every award she had received. Friends are indeed a liability.

Chapter 11

"I'm sorry to call you so late," Terrance said, "it's just that I was getting concerned. Mr. Papirius' history was intriguing, and I was digging a little deeper on my own."

"What are you talking about?" Eric had spent New Years with Maria and I. We waited for the ball to drop while playing Scrabble and eating apple pie. It was one of the best evenings I had in awhile. I was beginning to really like the man.

"It's his history. Well, not just his, the whole line as far back as I've looked," Terrance continued. "You see I'm kind of an amateur genealogist and I've been hacking away on Ancestry.com. I've been able to piece together five generations back, though that was difficult. Some of it is guesswork."

"Why do I care about this?" My anger was brewing. Eric was a good man, and I was feeling guilty that I checked up on him at all. I was letting Eric tell me things at his pace, once the trust was firmly in place. Damn it, I liked being in the same room with him, and I didn't want anything to damage that. I'd rather be in the dark.

"There's no women, Natalie."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean there are mother's, just not living. They are there on record, but they're nothing but a blip, almost as if they were unnecessary. It's all father-son followed by father-son. Never more than one child and never a girl."

"I thought I said to drop the investigation." I almost hung up.

"I did stop investigating." Terrance exhaled loudly, "It's a hobby. Listen I'm trying to warn you. If you don't want to listen, my conscious is clear."

"Okay," I said forcing calmness, now more sure than ever that I didn't want to know anymore. Also sure that I should.

"The women, well, they all die within a month or so after the birth."

"Are you suggesting he and his family are murderers?"

"I don't know. Look, all the deaths are explainable. Heroin overdose, tuberculosis, even a case of smallpox in 1879. It's not just the coincidence of the timing of their deaths; it's the women's histories as well."

"What about it?"

"They don't have one. Orphans, each and every one as far as I can tell," Terrance sighed, "they pop onto the family tree, deliver a son and their names, and then promptly die. Something is very very wrong. I've studied many lineages, and I've never seen anything like it. You expect to see strange things as you go back in time, but this looks like it's designed."

"What do you want me to do with this? You sound like one of those crazy conspiracy theorists. Maybe it's just their lot to have horrible luck with wives. Maybe your data is wrong. Why would anyone, much less multiple generations conceive of such a thing? Where's the motive?"

"I don't know. I just felt I had to tell you. There's a whole line of conveniently dead women, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to you," Terrance said with less confidence.

"Convenient? You'd think a smart man would wait until the baby is out of diapers before doing away with the mother," I said, exasperated, "Besides, I'm not an orphan, and I already have a daughter, and you told me Eric already has a son. Even if the pattern you're imagining existed, which I doubt, I don't fit the mold."

"In my line of work, once people go wrong they don't stop," Terrance insisted. "I've shared my findings with an Italian genealogist, an online friend of mine. He's taking the line back further into Europe. I have trouble translating the foreign documents, especially those from the churches."

"All I wanted to know is if Eric was a criminal. I feel uncomfortable I even checked. Now, you come at me with a hundred-year-old conspiracy. What do you think you'll find out by looking deeper? I'm sure if you look far enough back, I have criminal or two in my ancestry. That doesn't make me one!"

"No, of course not," Terrance said quickly, "I just thought you'd want to be aware. Maybe I was wrong, but I didn't want to be silent, and then see your name on the evening news."

"You can consider me warned," I said with more bitterness than I intended. Eric was the least threatening man I knew.

"I'm sorry, Natalie. I guess I let it get the best of me," Terrance said before he ended the call.

What I hated most about the call are the doubts it put in my mind. Logically, I could easily discount Terrance's theories, yet there was a lot I didn't know about Eric. He wasn't the most forthcoming man, and I hadn't asked about his past. Part of it was knowing too much already, afraid I would give away my snooping. The other part was the possibility of turning his smile back into a scowl. For a woman who didn't want a man in her life, I was certainly walking on eggshells to keep one there.

***

Maria was excited. There was snow on the ground, and Eric invited us to a barbecue at his house. It was payback for the times we had fed him, but a barbecue in mid-February? I had been keeping a cordial separation between Eric and us since Terrance's call. I dislike the distrust it engendered, painting Eric with a dirty brush though the picture beneath was so sweet. Eric had used my strategy, sending the invitation through Maria. I could think of no good reason to decline and had no desire to crush Maria's happiness about.

We stepped outside where a chill wind ate at our exposed skin. Maria sucked in her breath and stuck her mittened hands into her coat pockets. I picked up the pace and we moved quickly to Eric's door.

"Welcome," Eric announced as he opened the door. He was wearing a parka that looked like it was made for crossing the Antarctic. "There's a couple of hot chocolates on the kitchen counter. I've got to check the ribs and turn the corn." He closed the door and shuffled us into the kitchen.

"Mmmm," Maria sighed as she sipped the steaming cup. I could taste something different, maybe cinnamon. I wrapped my hands around the warm cup as Eric opened the sliding glass door and quickly stepped outside.

Eric had shoveled a path to his grill. I laughed as he I saw him visibly shiver as he lifted the grill lid. With tongs, he turned three ears of aluminum wrapped corn ears. Then he lifted a couple of racks of ribs, slightly turning them to look underneath them. Satisfied, he closed the lid and hustled back inside.

"Almost done," Eric announced. I smiled at his obvious pride.

"You know you're slightly insane."

"Nope, just realistic. I'm useless in the kitchen, but give me an open flame, and I can put most chefs to shame." It was hard not to enjoy his enthusiasm. He removed his parka leaving him in a green Notre Dame t-shirt, untucked into a pair of well-worn jeans. It was hard not to enjoy him period. I struggled to define when exactly he became more than a neighbor in my mind.

"I think it's cool," Maria added.

"See, all the in-crowd understands," Eric said, his eyes dancing with Maria. I could tell that he liked her and that they had bonded as friends. His charm was disarming, friendly to its core and Maria was defenseless after experiencing her father's decline.

"The proof is in the pudding," I said, throwing the gauntlet down.

"Prepare your taste buds, oh mighty doubter. I have never failed to tantalize, not even in the midst of the frozen tundra."

"You're raising my expectations rather high. What if you crash and burn?" I was smiling now, watching the confidence strengthen in his face. We were having fun prodding each other. All my Terrance induced reservations faded away with the banter.

"I am saving up a whole basket of I-told-you-sos," Eric said while pointing his grill tongs at me, "Your daughter as faith in me." Maria nodded, looking at me like I was a foolish traitor.

"The faith of the young," I sighed, "such an easy thing to achieve. You'll need flavor to get my 5-stars." I took another sip of the hot chocolate and knew I was on thin ice. My memory couldn't locate a better cup in my past.

"Everyone's a food critic," Eric said. Maria shrugged her shoulders in agreement, nodding at me with a devious smile. Eric could have told her the snow was blue and she would have agreed. She liked teaming up against me, even though we were only playing. I had a rebel high schooler in my future.

"Can we play Scrabble after dinner?" Maria asked. She had enjoyed the New Year's game. Board games were always better with three or more, so we didn't play much with only the two of us. I gave Eric my it's-up-to-you eyes.

"I was hoping you'd ask," Eric said happily, interrupting my expression correctly. "After that beating you two gave me, I wanted some revenge." Maria's face lit up even more which by proxy, lit up mine. It was good to see her happy.

Eric spent the entire dinner looking at me expectantly every time I took a bite. I knew what he was after and I found the complimentless torture to be fun. I steered the conversation away from the food, which was delicious. Baby back ribs with a dry rub that was a hint cajun and all scrumptious. It took everything I had not to overeat. Even the corn was unique, having been almost fried inside of a seasoned, buttery mix that tickled the side of my tongue. Eric was indeed a master of the barbecue.

"This is really, really good," Maria said with her lips sloppy with rib rub. She was on her seventh bone. Quite the compliment from someone who could barely finish a sandwich.

"Thank you, ma'am," Eric said with an air of privilege. He looked at me expectantly. I stalled, pretending I was chewing. He was about to jump out of his skin in anticipation waiting for me to finish.

"They say it's supposed to snow again tomorrow," I said when my mouth was politely empty.

"Ah, come on," Eric complained. There was a smile on his face, knowing I had no choice but to admit defeat. I had to laugh at his kid-at-Christmas eyes.

"Okay, I admit. They are the best ribs I've ever tasted," I said looking straight at Eric. I loved what it did to his eyes. They became soft and somehow warmer. My words pleased him, and his pleasure pleased me more that it should.

"Thank you, Natalie." The way he said my name sent a shiver through me. It wasn't the I-told-you-so he promised. There was no banter in it at all. It was smooth and delivered like a kiss on the cheek as if I had done him an immeasurable favor. All I could do is wear a stupid smile and try not to blush. He stared at me for a brief moment before releasing my eyes and turning toward Maria.

"Have you been brushing up on your Scrabble words?" Eric asked before he took a bite out of his ear of corn. I watched him chew, marveling at how he looked so at ease after delivering my name with so much caring. His eyes glanced back at me before I realized I was staring. Instead of glancing away, I studied the way his jaw sloped strongly toward his chin, giving him a look of confidence that was enhanced by his steady eyes.

"I tried to find two letter words, like the ones you used," Maria replied. "It's hard to find them all."

"You need a Scrabble dictionary or maybe just search online." Eric looked at me again; his next words lost as he realized I was still staring. I smiled as if he were the one staring and I was flattered. His confidence fled, and he quickly turned his eyes back to Maria. His face flushed.

It was horrible that his discomfort was so pleasing. College was the last time I remembered having that kind of an effect on a man. Eric was flustered, and my self-worth increased.

"There's...ah...a site," Eric fumbled trying to remember what he and Maria were discussing.

"Let me clear the dishes," I said, needing a task that would allow Eric some time to recover. He began to stand as if he was going to help, but I waved him back to his seat. "I got this," I said glancing at Maria. He gave me half a smile and sat back down uncomfortably. It gave me a strange sense of power. Eric regained his mind and continued his discussion of Scrabble tactics with Maria.

I was filling the dishwasher with a smile, thinking of how easy it had been to remove that confident veneer from Eric. He was vulnerable to the charms I had forgotten I possessed. It had been a long time since I had felt sexy, or even desired to feel that way. His questionable past should have put a break on my thoughts, but right then all I could think about was how I looked in his eyes. His relationship with Jake should have told me to run. Instead, I wondered what his shirt covered. I was an idiot. I knew it and was striving to be even more stupid.

"Maria's in the bathroom," Eric said, surprising me and my asinine thoughts. He was bringing in an arm full of dishes, laying them next to the sink. I jerked up finding myself unexpectedly close to the man. "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you."

"No, I was just rearranging the dishes," I said, pointing at the dishwasher, "you had your plates were the bowls go, and everything was orientated in the wrong direction. We...I mean you, can fit more in this way."

"Didn't think it mattered."

"Is Jake thinking of trying to rebuild our marriage?" I asked, taking a step away from Eric. There were things I wanted Eric to know and now was the time. Even if it was out of context.

"I don't know." Jake's eyes shifted toward the wall for a second as he thought about what I asked. When they came back, they had more focus. "I don't think it's my place to get in the middle of that. I was only trying to stop the bad stuff."

"If he asks," I almost whispered in case Maria was closer than I thought, "it's not going to happen. I'm proud of what he's doing, but he won't return to my bed." I watched Eric's eyes closely, trying to see if he understood. I am a free woman.

"Forgive me, I'll have to leave that message for you," Eric said. I wasn't sure he understood my double meaning. I put my hands on my hips, angry for a reason I couldn't tell him.

"Why are you helping us?"

"I thought I told you. A promise I made to my wife."

"I mean, why us?" I demanded. Eric assumed a defensive posture mirroring my own. I had gone too far, demanded too much. I tried to soften my stance and bring it all back to where my thoughts were swimming a moment ago. He paused for a moment, then sighed.

"Does it matter?"

"No," I said and followed with a slow, "and yes."

"Where's your scrabble board?" Maria called from the dining room, "I'll get it set up." Eric smiled that charming smile at me. Saved by the ten-year-old calvary. I wasn't even sure who she saved.

"In the closet," Eric called back, "I'll get it." For just a moment, I thought I might have started an argument with the person who was instrumental in straightening out my life. All because I wanted something more. I couldn't even define what more was.

Scrabble allowed me the neutral ground to be wiser. I returned to motherhood and left my confused thoughts for another day.

Chapter 12

The law offices of Schuster and Holmes were more impressive than I expected. It was one of those buildings where sound didn't travel through walls. Good construction, deep carpeting, and an abundance of art.

"Ms. Livingston, I hope you remember me. Dan Curtis?" I recognized him immediately, though his warm smile was new.

"Yes, Mr. Curtis," I said as I shook his hand, "though last time it was more adversarial. I hope today won't be like that." He was downright mean during the divorce proceedings. Some of the things he insinuated back then were less than flattering.

"That is not Mr. Livingston's intention," Dan assured me. He waved his hand down the hall, and I followed his lead. "I'm surprised you didn't bring council yourself."

"Do I need any?"

"Everyone always needs council, Ms. Livingston," Dan said with a chuckle, "but we won't be asking you to sign anything. We're just acting as neutral ground today." He led me into a plush conference room. A woman in a smart business suit sat comfortably in one of the chairs, a cup of coffee on the table beside her. "This is Dr. Reynolds," Dan introduced her.

"Darla Reynolds," the woman said, rising from her chair holding out her hand, "but I prefer just Darla."

"I'm not sure I understand," I said, taking Darla's hand in mine. I was expecting Jake.

"Jake has given me permission to talk with you." Darla's smile was soft and her eyes compassionate. "I have been seeing him weekly, dealing with... Dan, can you excuse us for a moment."

"Psychiatrist?" I asked as Dan made a gracious exit.

"Psychologist," Darla replied and politely gestured toward one of the chairs. I took a seat and declined the coffee she offered.

"I thought I was going to meet with Jake."

"You are. He has asked me if I would speak with you first, if that's okay with you of course." My conspiracy brain was wondering if this was some kind of trick. I looked around for cameras or other recording devices. "I assure you, our conversation will be strictly about Jake and his recovery. He would like you to have some reassurances. I insisted upon a written waiver and his knowledge that I wasn't going to sugar coat anything on his behalf."

"I not sure I'm comfortable with this," I said, wishing I did bring a lawyer with me.