Page 74 of The Boss
“It took me the better part of a year to finally find it. A charge on a credit card bill from the early nineties. It was stuffed in the back of a box in the back of your closet.” I hesitated, then added, “There were some of Mona’s things in there too.”
A shadow of pain crossed her face, and I hated that there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I’d often wondered if a part of her still loved Mona, and now, I was fairly certain of it.
“I put her things in an old box after she left,” Mom said. “That statement must have gotten stuck from when I used the box for receipts.”
“That makes sense,” I said before going on with my story. “I was so excited when I found it. I don’t know why I thought it’d be easy after that. I never thought of myself as foolish until I called the sperm bank and asked them to tell me who my father was. The receptionist was nicer than she had to be, but I knew it was because she felt sorry for me.”
Mom reached out and touched my arm. A gentle reminder that I wasn’t alone.
“I called pretty much every law firm in the city, trying to find someone who would try to get that name for me.” The memories of those calls washed over me. The hope I’d felt every time I’d dialed a number, dashed the moment I was informed that they couldn’t possibly take on such a case. Some of them were honest enough to say that it was about money. “Needless to say, no one would even try to help me without a sizable deposit and an insane hourly rate.”
I didn’t need to tell her what our finances had been like back then.
“Finally, just before I turned nineteen, I decided to go to the clinic myself, see if I could get answers if I made them look me in the eye. Of course, they still refused. So I went back the next day, and the next. Two weeks, and I didn’t get answers. But I did manage to get someone to have a little sympathy for me. Laurie, her name was. I never got her last name.” I looked down at my hands. “One day, while we were talking, she pulled up some information on her computer, and then walked away. Mid-sentence. Gave the screen a not-so-subtle look. I only had a minute, but I got the most important information. A name. Finley Kordell.”
I could still remember how I’d walked out of the clinic, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. I didn’t know where he was from or how old he was or anything like that, but I’d known that, with a name, I could find him.
“Finley Kordell isn’t exactly a common name, so it didn’t take me long to find out that a man with that name was co-owner of Manhattan Records. The newspaper clipping that Nate found, that’s what led me to him. To Finley, I mean.” I stopped myself from looking over my shoulder to see where Nate had gone.
“You changed your major to communications your sophomore year. Was it because of him?”
I nodded. “I didn’t know how to talk to him, how to approach him. I didn’t know what sort of man he was. If he’d been someone awful, I would’ve walked away, but I had to find out for myself what he was like. I couldn’t trust an article in a newspaper. Not to tell me the sort of things I needed to know. I had to see him with my own eyes.”
“So, you applied to be an intern?”
I shrugged. “It seemed like a good way to see how he treated everyone in the company, not just the ones at the top. Besides, it wasn’t like I had some career planned out. It was as good a business as any.”
“And what did you find?” Mom sounded curious, and for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to have her meet Finley.
Well, after I told him.
“He’s a good man,” I said. “Everyone speaks highly of him, and he’s always been kind when I’ve seen him.”
“You haven’t talked to him yet?”
“Not exactly. He’s a good man, but I don’t know how he might react to finding out about me. He most likely has no idea that I exist. Hell, he could’ve even forgotten he’d made a deposit.”
“If he doesn’t immediately see that you’re everything a father could want in a daughter, then he’s an idiot.”
I smiled at her. “That’s only part of it. It’s more about how I have no idea how to have that conversation. Just walk up and say it? Schedule an appointment?”
“That does present a dilemma,” she said. “But I know you’ll make the right choice, in the right time. And if you need me, I’ll be there.”
It was strange. I’d been so worried about telling Mom, and now that I had, it was as if a weight had lifted from my shoulders. Everything was perfect.
Almost.
“Now that you’ve explained things to me, you need to explain things to him.” Mom gestured behind me, but I didn’t need her to point. I knew who she meant and knew that he was still here because I could feel him watching me.
“I don’t owe him an explanation,” I said. “I’d tried to give him one before, but he didn’t want it then. He can’t suddenly decide to come after me, make accusations, and then get angry when I don’t do what he wants.”
“You don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?” I asked, my insides squirming.
“He didn’t come here for work. He came here foryou. And I see it on your face, too.” She was smiling, but her eyes were serious. “Go see if you can fix what’s broken between you two. I’ll be fine here.”
Forty-Eight
