Nevvie hugged her. “This is going to be a good day today, Mom.”
Peggy patted Nevvie’s hands. “I know, sugar.” She sighed.
* * * *
The other sisters all nervously queried Nevvie and Peggy in the kitchen when they arrived and saw Clay in the living room with the others. They had all cut Emily out of their lives after she’d turned on Tommy. Nevvie assured them they were okay with Clay being there as long as Emily wasn’t.
They had a good meal together as a family. After, they spent time looking through photo albums, showing Adam pictures of his Grandpa Adam and his father and aunts, and even a few of Tyler in earlier years before Nevvie was a part of their lives.
Adam sat in Nevvie’s lap, paging through an album, pointing at people and asking who they were. Tyler had walked into the kitchen to fix Mikey a bottle.
“Momma?”
“What, baby?”
“Where’s Daddy’s daddy?”
She immediately glanced at Thomas, who shook his head. Her mind raced. “Well, honey, Daddy isn’t close to his father.”
“Why?”
She glanced at Thomas again. He shrugged.
Great, no help there.
“I don’t know, baby. It makes Daddy sad to talk about it, so we don’t.”
He sat quietly for a moment, then turned to look at her, his big blue eyes piercing through her. “Did he do somefing like Aunt Emiwy?”
Thomas snorted in amusement. Adam didn’t know all the details, but in typical precocious toddler fashion, Adam had picked up enough bits and pieces to know the whole family was mad at her.
“No, baby,” Nevvie said. “I don’t know why Daddy’s upset at his father. Please don’t ask him about it, okay? We don’t want Daddy to feel sad today.”
“Izit a secret?”
“No, but sometimes people don’t like to talk about things that make them sad. Today’s a happy day.”
He looked at Thomas. “Does talkin’ bout Gwampa Adam make you sad, Poppa?”
Thomas smiled. “The kind of sad you feel when someone dies is a different kind of sad. I like talking about Grandpa Adam. It makes me feel happy remembering him.”
Adam chewed that one over for a moment. Then he dropped his voice to what he thought was a whisper. “I don want Daddy sad. We should keep dis a secret today.”
Nevvie and Thomas looked at his serious expression, then at each other, and burst into laughter.
* * * *
Later, once the guests had left and Nevvie had a few moments to herself, she stared out at the backyard and thought about the discussion with Adam. Between Tommy’s rocky start on his recovery and then getting pregnant with Mikey, she’d put a few things on the back burner.
Her theory about Delores’ version of events was one of those things.
She knew Tyler’s publicist was scheduling a series of interviews in London for Tyler’s latest book. He had called the week before and asked about open blocks of time so he could make the arrangements. He would most likely be getting back to her in a week or two, after New Year’s.
Nevvie pulled her BlackBerry from its holster, looked up Elliot’s private email address, the one she and a few other privileged people had access to, and sent him her request.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nevvie welcomed Elliot’s call the second week of January. “Tyler’s booked for four days in London, and I padded an extra couple of days in for R&R like you asked,” he said.
She glanced toward Tyler’s closed study door. “Fantastic. I’m going with him, but Tommy’s staying home. We’ll need tickets and hotel for me and Tyler.”
“Done, kiddo. You guys leave in three weeks.”
“Oh, can you arrange me a rental car?”
“Well, sure. Why?”
“Because I want to do a little exploring while I’m there.”
After her call she nervously killed an hour of time then grabbed her purse. She stuck her head in Tyler’s office. Tommy was napping, the babies asleep. “I’m running out to the store, Ty. Do you need anything?”
He sat back from his computer and studied her face. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
He crossed his arms. “Love—”
“Elliot’s got you a week in London. I need to go shopping.”
He smiled. “Why didn’t you simply say so?”
“Because sometimes a girl’s got to have a few secrets.”
He laughed as she closed his study door and walked out to her car.
When she turned out of their subdivision, she pulled into a parking lot and called Bob’s private number. Fortunately, he answered.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. We’ve got the London trip booked.”
“Good. I’ve got your info.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t tell the boys.”
“I told you I won’t.”
“Will you be in the office for a while?”
“Yeah. Are you coming right now?”
“I’ll be there in a half-hour.” She made it to his office in twenty-five minutes and studied the papers Bob handed her. “And this is it? You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
She tucked the papers into her purse. “I really appreciate this.”
He laughed. “Hey, it’s just billable hours.”
* * * *
Tyler protested her going off on her own. “Love, you’re not used to driving here. And it’s winter.”
“Neither are you. We don’t get snow in Florida.”
“I was raised here. It’s a little different.”
“You’ve got a full day of interviews. I want to explore.” She prayed he didn’t pull out his secret weapon blue-eyed stare or she’d never be able to stand up to him. “Please, Ty? It’s not like it’s a third-world country. It’s London.” And an invisible clock ticked in her head. She was losing driving time.
He finally sighed. “All right. You have your phone?”
She nodded. They’d bought two cell phones upon arrival in London. Their U.S. phones didn’t work here.
“Be safe, love,” he said.
“Thank you!” She grabbed the tourist books and maps she’d randomly purchased and had yet to open before bolting out the hotel room door.
In the car she tried to calm herself. She took a folded piece of paper from her purse, hidden in the inside zipper pocket where she normally stashed her tampons, and looked at the highlighted route. Before they’d left home she’d used the Internet to find her destination.
It felt weird driving with the steering wheel in what was, to her, the passenger side, but she quickly adapted and took her time.
An hour later she pulled up in front of a line of older two-story row houses. Not too crappy, but certainly not the richest neighborhood.
She took a deep breath. The thought of calling ahead had crossed her mind, but might have caused problems.
She could do this.
Nevvie stepped out of the car and locked it, then walked up to the front door and knocked.
She held her breath. Inside, finally, she heard a man’s voice. “All right. Just a moment.”
The small window in the front door didn’t allow a good view, but Nevvie saw someone coming. When the front door opened, Nevvie felt the breath sucked out of her lungs.
A brilliant blue pair of eyes, Tyler’s blue eyes—Adam’s blue eyes—stared at her.
“Can I help you, miss?” Here was her preview of Tyler in about twenty years, except she suspected the deep worry lines etched in this man’s face wouldn’t plague her husband. He was approximately Tyler’s height and build, his hair grey but not thinning.
“Andrew Paulson?” she whispered, because it was all she could do to speak.
He frowned. “Yes? Are you all right, miss? You look a little ill, quite frankly.”
“May I please come in? I need to speak with you.”
He cautiously studied her. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but what is this about?”
Nevvie reached into her purse, took out her wallet, and opened it. With trembling fingers, she removed a picture, of her, Tyler, Thomas, and the boys. She handed it to him.
She heard his shocked gasp as he stared at the picture. After a long moment he looked at her. His eyes brimmed with tears.
“Please, come in,” he softly said, stepping out of her way.
The small home looked neat and tidy, but not overly decorated and definitely not richly furnished. No sign of a woman anywhere. She noted he didn’t wear any rings.
There was a small sitting room at the back of the house with a couch and chair, two full walls of bookshelves. Something familiar caught her eye and when she stepped over for a closer look, she was the one crying.
Every book. On one dedicated shelf, he had every one of Tyler’s books, various English editions—hard cover, trade paperback, mass-market paperback, even different covers depending on whether it was a U.K. or U.S. release.
He had them all.
“Is…is he all right?” Andrew asked. “Is he happy?”
She turned, nodded. “He has interviews this morning. I wanted to meet you.”
He still stared at the picture. As she looked around, she realized there were other things, framed newspaper and magazine articles about Tyler, the good ones. Copies of his book reviews, interviews. A framed movie poster from one of the film adaptations.
The man collapsed into the chair and finally looked up at her. “Does he know you’re here?”
“No. I didn’t tell him I tracked you down.”
Tears ran down his face. “I’m so proud of him. Please tell him that for me. I’ve always wished I could tell him.” Then he laughed, a sad, choked sound. “I’m sorry, miss. What is your name?”
She sat on the couch, leaned over and gently touched his knee. “My name’s Nevvie. I’m your daughter-in-law.”
It took Andrew a few minutes to compose himself. She refused when he tried to hand the picture back. “I want you to have it.”
He sniffled. “Thank you. They’re cute little devils, aren’t they?”
“I can’t wait for you to meet them. We’ll fly you over—”
He vigorously shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“He won’t want to see me.”
“He will. I know Thomas will want to meet you.”
At his questioning look, Nevvie knew she had some explaining of her own before she coaxed the truth out of him. “How much do you know about Tyler? About our private life?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. I remember reading a few years ago about an incident, a woman was attacked and stabbed.” He looked at her. “You?”
She nodded. “Guilty.”
He sniffled, looked at the picture again. “Then about his heart attack.”
“I need you to please hear me out and keep an open mind. I’m going to tell you what I know before Tyler and I met, and you can correct my version after I’m done. I suspect Tyler doesn’t know the full story.”
Nevvie spent nearly thirty minutes relating what she knew, Tyler’s two failed marriages and how he met Thomas, their happy life together, her life from when she met them. Then the recent events, including Delores’ trip to Florida. They had managed to keep Tommy’s accident out of the news, miracle of miracles.
When she finished, Andrew’s face had softened, relaxed. He sadly smiled. “I was so scared when I heard about his heart attack, but I didn’t know how to contact any of the children. I didn’t want to track down Delores.”
Nevvie’s intuition buzzed again. “So our relationship doesn’t shock you?”
He shrugged. “It’s certainly different. I’m not one to judge.”
Nevvie played her ace. “Tell me the truth about why you left.”
His blue eyes nailed her, nearly paralyzing her. He proceeded to tell her the story of how when he’d asked Delores for a divorce, finally admitting he was attracted to a man, she ran him out that very afternoon. If he hadn’t left, she threatened to tell everyone the truth about him, including the children. Back then it was far from readily accepted.
“I could have lost my job,” he softly said. “It would have blackballed me from teaching. I hated leaving the children but the cards were stacked against me, right? A homosexual and a single father. There’s no way the courts would have given me custody had I fought for it. Probably not even visitation. I didn’t want them to feel ashamed.”
Nevvie felt relief mixed with sadness. “She told them you ran off with another woman.”
“More for her ego than mine. I suspect you’ve seen enough of that woman to know why she would rather claim another woman took me than the fact that her husband had ‘turned gay,’ in her words.”
“Or bisexual?”
He harshly laughed. “No-sexual, is more like it, love.” He reddened. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn’t have said that. No, it’s been a long time since I’ve had any sort of relationship, man or woman.”
“Do you still teach?”
“I retired a few years ago. I get by on pension.”
She spent an hour talking with him. He was sweet, gentle, reminded her so much of her husband. As much as Andrew had been able, he’d followed Tyler’s public career. He’d amassed quite a scrapbook of clippings, even of magazine advertisements for Tyler’s books and movies made from his books.
Delores probably couldn’t even name Tyler’s books. Andrew had practically memorized them.
Nevvie found out he didn’t have a computer, couldn’t afford one. When she offered to buy him one he waved her off. “No, love. That’s all right. Please don’t spend money on me. I get by.” He shook his head and stared at her. “I’m still in shock, I suppose. I cannot begin to tell you how much this means to me, that you looked me up.”
“I can’t wait for Tyler to see you.”
“No!” His face paled. “No, you can’t bring him here!”
Nevvie frowned. “Why not?”
“He won’t want to see me. Not after how I left them with her.”
Nevvie wasn’t about to have her plans spoiled. “Yes, he will. He needs to know the truth. I want my sons to know their grandfather. You are the only living grandfather they have. Dammit, you’re going to let me do this!”
Perhaps sensing her fortitude, he finally nodded. “I’d be willing to bet you’re wrong though. About him wanting to see me.” He studied his hands. “I wasn’t the best father. I worried I pushed them, especially Tyler, too hard. When Tyler was about seven or eight, I realized I couldn’t stay married to that woman. I did my best to try to get them to stand up for themselves. I knew they’d need it against her. Tyler was so much like me. I worried she would walk all over him and make his life a misery.”