She reopens her eyes. Tears wet her cheeks. “We came out of the storejust as everything went down. The first shooter. Kenda…” She sniffs and scrubs her hand over her wet cheeks.
Maybe she’s a talented actress, but something in my gut tells me she’s telling the truth. Peony’s and her reactions make sense. If Peony saw two men shoot her mother, of course it would affect her.
Which means once I get confirmation she is my daughter, I’ll make sure she receives all the support she needs. I might not know much about children, but I do understand how something like this can mess up a kid, the impact often far reaching.
I steal a quick glance at Kellan; he’s a prime example of that.
“Which mall was this?” Kellan’s tone isn’t exactly unfriendly, he just isn’t as accepting of her story as I am. That doesn’t surprise me, given his past relationship with his late biological mother. And then with the woman he cared deeply for who ended up double-crossing him. He approaches every female with a heavy dose of skepticism and distrust.
Athena tells us the mall in North Carolina. It doesn’t sound familiar, but with the high volume of mass shootings these days, they tend not to get much, if any, coverage on the national news unless the casualty count is high.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t look up the shooting to check if she’s telling the truth. Another reason I’m leaning more toward believing her. Why lie about the shooting and the victims if we could easily discredit her?
“You were living in Louisiana and visiting North Carolina?” I had no idea Kenda had been living in Louisiana. Come to think of it, she’d never really answered the question about where she was living when I bumped into her in New York City.
Athena shakes her head, the movement adamantly quick. “No. We were living in North Carolina.”
“But you had been living in Louisiana at one point.” I lift Peony’s birth certificate to show her the state listed on it.
Athena shakes her head again. “No. We were visiting the place when Kenda went into labor. We never lived there.”
Fair enough. I glance down at Peony. Her face is still smooshed intoAthena’s side. “What is Poppy?” I ask her and touch what could be a stuffed panda clutched under her arm. “Is this Poppy?”
She doesn’t reply, but Athena gives a small nod.
“He’s a handsome panda. Is it a he or she or gender neutral?”
“She. She’s a girl panda. Isn’t that right, Peony?” Athena gently strokes Peony’s neck.
Kellan remains quiet, his expression impassive. He’s no doubt taking in the whole scene, drawing his own conclusions. Determining the next steps in validating or discrediting her story.
“How ’bout I make us lunch, then see about getting you two a hotel room. We’ll go from there once we’ve got some things straightened out.” Like confirmation I really am Peony’s father and after childproofing my house. I unfold to my full height. “I’ll be right back.”
I make eye contact with Kellan, and he follows me outside onto the front stoop. The rain isn’t falling as hard now. It’s mostly just drizzle.
I close the door behind me. “Looks like we’ll have to discuss the excursion ideas another time.”
Kellan frowns, but I sense it has nothing to do with our delayed plans. “Do you believe any of what she’s told you?”
“It’s hard to know for sure until I get the paternity results. It wouldn’t be like Kenda to claim I was the father of her child if I wasn’t, and then go to the extreme of forging a birth certificate.”
He scoffs, the grumbled sound cutting. “People change.”
“True. Our careers have caused her and me to see and do things over the years that altered us.” I’m certainly not the same man I was prior to my last deployment. “But if she lied about me being Peony’s father, she did it for a reason.” I shrug. “Who knows? Maybe I’m not her father, and her biological father’s a real asshole. Kenda wouldn’t want to risk her daughter’s well-being with someone like that.” Not after having a father like that herself. So maybe it is possible that she would do whatever she could to protect her daughter—including getting faked documents.
“You think she’d fabricate the story to keep her daughter safe?”
“It’s possible. Her own father was an asshole. The Kenda I knew”—and loved—“would want to protect her daughter from the same nightmare she grew up with.”
“Even if it meant lying to you?”
I don’t have an answer for that. I have no clue what was going through Kenda’s head once she found out she was pregnant. It’s possible she knew Peony wasn’t mine and decided not to tell me the truth. And that could be the reason she never contacted me after the initial text.
But if that’s true, what changed her mind and caused her to write the letter, claiming Peony is my daughter?
Kellan folds his arms across his chest. “I’ll see what I can find out about the nanny.”
“Check if she has a police record, but that’s it. Whoever she is, she hasn’t done anything yet to warrant me snooping into her life without her permission. Kenda trusted her with her daughter. She wouldn’t have done that if she had any doubts about the woman.” Kenda might have changed over the years, but her fierce protectiveness for those she loved wouldn’t have. “Of course, if Athena gives us any reason to not trust her, I give you permission to do a more thorough background check.”
