Betrayals

Forty-One

Thomas had enjoyed his trip to central Florida, particularly the groves and the ample screened front porch and the children-the masses of children. Jenny had reminded him there were only five great-grandchildren circulating about, but he counted his six grandchildren and their assorted spouses and sweethearts as part of the throng. Rebecca did turn up, with Jared and Mai-more heads to count. Thomas had surprised Rebecca by forgiving the two months back rent she owed him. He’d been in touch with Sofi, and Eliza’s vase had indeed brought him financial peace of mind. He was already in touch with the woman in Palm Beach.

Rebecca, in turn, hadn’t surprised him or anyone else when she announced a fall wedding at Wesley Sloan’s house in Tiberon. That meant another trip. At least, Thomas thought, amused, he could afford it.

He felt better than he had in years. The carpenters would start in the morning. They declined to call themselves carpenters-they were restoration specialists or something, but in Thomas’s mind, a man with a hammer was a carpenter.

It was a warm June evening, and Athena, who’d been in her glory during his recovery, was beating the tar out of him at the new edition of Junk Mind. The doorbell rang, and he used the interlude to consider a ridiculous question about a cartoon character. He peeked through the window onto the doorstep.

Jean-Paul Gerard was leaning against the wrought-iron rail and trying desperately, Thomas thought, to look as if he didn’t give a damn whether or not he was sent on his way.

Gisela’s son…my son.

Rebecca had told him about Jean-Paul after her return from Paris, saying the secret had been his promise to keep to Gisela, not hers.

Thomas opened the door. “Come in, son,” he said. “Welcome home.”