Page 127 of The Fighter who Needed Me
Brooks raised his eyebrow and shook his head, “I am not he. I apologize.”
The woman gestured to the grave behind him, “Did you know my son?”
Brooks felt both his eyebrows raise, “John Parker is your son?”
She nodded, “He was. Such a good man he was. I mourn every day his loss. And the loss of his dear wife. His death hit her the hardest and she left without a single trace as to her whereabouts. But we never forgot her.”
Brooks swayed a little, “You knew Amelie when she lived here?”
The woman smiled, “She was a beauty. Always had men following her about. She never gave any the time of day. Only my John. Oh, they were so in love. Amelie was so wonderful to him. Loved him so. And she even thought she was with child when John passed away. It was so tragic. Her parents had disowned her when she wanted to marry John and she had left them all to do so. I miss her so as well.”
Brooks looked down at Persephone who had her eyes wide as the woman spoke.
“You remind me so of my dear son. I could have sworn you were him. I apologize. And I apologize for telling you my entire life story.”
She laughed and Brooks felt Persephone squeeze his hand in encouragement.
“You needn’t apologize. I came to find out more about my father and I have. So, thank you.”
The woman stopped laughing and let out a soft breath in shock. “You came to find out about your father?”
He nodded, “My father was John Parker. And my mother was Amelie Parker. My name is Brooks.”
The woman took a step toward him and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.
Brooks lunged for her, catching her before she hit the ground.
It was then that he noticed her hair, that was more grey than blonde tucked under her bonnet.
And when her eyes fluttered open, they were the same color as his own.
She reached up and touched his face, “Is it you? Truly? You are the child of John and Amelie Parker?”
Brooks smiled and nodded at her. “Yes. I am. My mother told me about my father when she passed away just over ten years ago. She did not tell me that he had a family still alive or anything. She just told me his name, but I was reading through her journal, and she wrote down the town where they were from. I wanted to see. So, I had my wife accompany me here and this was the first place we came.”
He helped the woman stand and she let go of the hold she had on his face. He gave her another smile and she reached out and took his hand. “I am your grandmother. My name is Helena. Oh, please. Come with me. My husband will be so happy to meet you. As will my daughter and my other son.”
Brooks raised his eyebrow, “I have a family?”
She nodded, “Of course dear one. Please. Come. Bring your wife.”
He smiled and they followed Helena through the small streets and to a bigger home nestled against the forest.
It was beautiful, with a big door carved from driftwood and it was weathered by the sea.
Helena walked in the front door and beckoned them inside.
“Henry! Henry, come quickly. Please!”
An older man came down the stairs as quickly as he could.
He used a cane to walk and was stooped with age.
His hair was pure white, and he had twinkling blue eyes and a big white beard.
Helena hurried to him, “Oh Henry. I went to visit John’s grave today and met someone there.”
Henry looked at them and gave a start, “Helena, that man looks just like John.” He said in a whispered voice and Brooks smiled.
