Page 5 of Now & Forever
Chapter 2
James
James parked in his usual spot in front of the main Welsh house. A servant always grabbed his keys and parked the car elsewhere, but James had no idea where his vehicles disappeared. For all he knew, someone was paid to rife through his belongings, looking for proof that he was… something. He hadn’t figured out that part of the conspiracy.
The head butler awaited him at the front door. The man nodded his head without a smile as James fixed the buttons on his jacket and entered theWelsh Grove, the expansive country estate that had been in the family since before America was a country.This house is older than mine.And bigger. Much, much bigger.
James always followed the butler to one of three rooms: the upstairs nursery, the downstairs playroom or, if he had been a bad boy recently, the salon where either Cassandra or her mother Madam Sarah Walsh awaited. The last time he was shown to the salon, Madam Welsh was quite upset that the father of her grandson hadopinionson where Patrick should go to nursery school.
Thankfully, on that otherwise nondescript Monday, James was shown into the downstairs playroom where his son sat with Irene the nanny, flipping through large picture books and smashing blocks together.
My son.He never got used to thinking that, even though Patrick Merange’s face was unmistakably like his father’s. James wasn’t there when his son was born. Nor was he aware of his existence until Cassandra thought it prudent to inform him that,“Oh, yes, by the way, I had your baby. Turns out you don’t need intercourse for that to happen these days.”The first time James met his son was after the bomb had been dropped on his life. Shocked. Scared. Appalled that this had happened without his knowledge. He knew plenty of men who had children they never knew about, but could it really shock them if they had done the deed with the woman? James and Cassandra had never been involved likethat.He hadn’t been with anyone but Gwen since they met seven years ago.I partied it up in college, but I think I would know about illegitimate children by now. Maybe. Perhaps.James was made of money. Those women would’ve come after his child support within two weeks of giving birth.
Cassandra hadn’t wanted his money, though. She had plenty of her own with her family, and Grandpa Merange was more than generous with the presents and trust funds already set up for his grandson’s future. Honestly, if James had wantedoutof this situation, he was more than free to sign away any of his parental rights and go about his life. But he wasn’t like that. Once the fog cleared and he realizedI have a son,all he could think about was being anything but a deadbeat dad.
That didn’t make these weekly, sometimes twice or thrice weekly, meetings any easier.
“Look, Patrick,” Irene said, bending down from her chair and looking the boy in the blue eyes, “your daddy’s here.”
Patrick turned with excitement. “Pa!” he cried, holding up a block with the letterJon it. Close enough.
“There’s my boy.” James knelt beside his son and beckoned for one of the blocks. There hadn’t been enough time to go home after his meeting to change into something more comfortable than the three-piece suit he wore for work. Perfect for Patrick, who was more entranced by neckties than anything else on James’s person. “Are you being good for Irene?”
The forty-something nanny smiled to say, “He’s an absolute angel after he’s had his nap. Aren’t you, Patrick?”
Patrick fell onto his back with a mightyplopeven his father could appreciate.
“Like I said,” James said with a chuckle, “that’s my boy right there.”
Irene laughed, going into an attached room. The boys needed some bonding time – alone.
“So…” James sat next to his quiet son. “Got a girlfriend yet?”
Patrick stuck his finger in his nose and conducted a treasure hunt for the ages.
“It’s fine. Someone around here will teach you how to do that in private. Handkerchiefs, boy. The wave of the future.”
James didn’t dread spending time with his son. He always assumed he would be a perfectly fine father, should that day come, and he liked children well enough.I didn’t think it would happen so soon. I’m barely thirty.If it did happen by now, he would’ve had plenty of warning. Time to get used to the idea of being a father.
Opportunity to get his affairs in order.
Not to mention… Gwenny would be the mother, right?That was the crux of this situation. Not only had James been bamboozled by his own family, but poor Patrick had been robbed of a proper one. He may have been given James’s last name, but he lived with and was raised by the Welshes. He wastheirheir. That had been made clear when the dust settled, anger subsided, and everyone had alovelysit down to talk about Patrick. The Welshes wanted the boy as a guarantee of their longevity. James was more than welcomed to make Patrick his heir – in fact, it was encouraged – but the Welshes expressed that they would not be affronted if James had other children and prioritized them in his line of succession.“After all,”Sarah Welsh had said with one of her haughty sighs,“the poor little dear is a bastard. We don’t expect you to do anything.”
Difficult to think about those things when staring into the big eyes of a baby boy. Patrick grinned at his father, who matched the smile before picking him up.
For an hour, James distracted himself with the delight that was his son, because he couldn’t ruminate on the injustices of their families for very long when an innocent child was in his arms. He didn’t worry about the boy’s future. He didn’t wonder what would happen when he died, and Patrick thought,“Where’s my money, Daddy?”Nor did he spend his time thinking about Gwen, who had perhaps been the most put out by this.
He thought about Gwen before and after playtime, though. She was all he could think about anymore.
Gwen had only met Patrick once. That night, over a year ago, when Cassandra confessed what she had done and implored them to meet her son.Theirson.
That meeting had been brief. While James stayed behind to behold what his genetics could create, Gwen showed herself out, tears streaming down her face.
They had never been the same since.
“What do you think?” James asked, showing his son pictures on his phone. “Beautiful, ain’t she? That’s the woman your old man thinks is the greatest in the world.”
Patrick was more interested in what the buttons on James’s phone could do than what the picture of Gwen looked like.This was taken one month before that fateful night.They had spent Thanksgiving in Bermuda, soaking up the sun and lounging around on pristine beaches. It was the last time they truly had no cares in the world. It was also the last time Gwen was full of the usual life James had come to love over the years.
