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“No. But I don’t like it.”
She sat back in her seat, crossed her arms.
He tried a different approach. “Obviously, they like you.”
“No. They trust me. And because of that trust, they’re
giving you a chance.”
“I realize that. But if Jamie ever asks about his biologi-
cal father, do you think Ron and Deborah will feel com-
fortable telling him about me? As comfortable as they
would about revealing your identity?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. The silence stretched for
at least a mile—maybe the longest mile of Reese’s life.
Finally, Abby smiled. She wasn’t looking at him, so Reese
assumed it was a generic smile. Still, it helped. “Yes,” she
said. “I believe they’ll be fine about telling Jamie that
you’re his father…if he should ask.”
A torrent of questions flooded Reese’s mind. “How
might he ask? And when? You know about this stuff. Do
adopted kids ask in their teens, or more when they reach
adulthood? Are they basically resentful? Will it matter that
we all lied to him yesterday? Because that really bothered
me. What if—”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Reese, I don’t have
all the answers. Each case is different. I imagine that all
adopted kids are curious, but some never ask about their
birth parents. Many do, and often meetings are arranged
when the kids are mature and better able to handle the
consequences of hooking up with them.”
She kept her gaze on his face. “I want to give you the
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CHRISTMAS IN KEY WEST
benefit of my years of experience in this field, but you
have to accept that, legally, there is only one set of parents.
And for Jamie, they are Ron and Deborah. That will never
change.”
He understood that, but he wasn’t ready to give up all
hope. So he said, “But most do ask?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, most do.” After a moment, she
said, “Here’s what I believe might happen. That one day—
and don’t ask me when—your phone will ring.You’ll pick
it up, and a bright, young voice will say, ‘Hi, remember
me? We met that rainy day. I was wondering if maybe we
could get together, have a little talk.’”
Reese rubbed his forehead, trying to relieve the anxiety
of the past twenty-four hours. Could she be right? Could
the reunion happen just that way, as two acquaintances con-
necting on a vitally intimate level? Should he allow himself
to hope? He noticed Abby’s smile was still in place, but it
was definitely for him now. He nodded, accepting her pre-
diction of a happy conclusion, a promising beginning. “Ya
think?” he said. “Really?”
“Sure, why not?” Her hand was still on his arm, and she
gave it a squeeze. “He’s our son,” she said. “For better or
worse, he probably inherited my curiosity. It was the trait
that made me search him out—made me search you out on
that beach.”
Reese’s thoughts flashed back to that night, as they did
so often these days. He smiled to himself.
“And he might very well have inherited your courage
to take risks,” she said. “Something you do every day on
your job, especially with Huey.”
Reese chuckled.
“And if Jamie’s really lucky,” Abby continued, “he got
CYNTHIA THOMASON
225
wisdom from the Ingersolls, because I’m afraid you and I
are sorely lacking in that area.”
“I can’t disagree with you.”
“If Jamie does decide to contact you—I mean when he
decides to—a new chapter in your life will open up,” Abby
said. She removed her hand from his arm. “But I have no
doubt you’ll be ready for it. And maybe all this sadness
you’ve been feeling will become just a bad memory.”
All at once, imagining facing that day without Abby
beside him was hard. “And what about you?” he said. “Will
you be one of the characters in the new chapter?”
“Me? No. If Jamie decides he wants to meet me, I sup-
pose we’ll arrange for it to happen in Ocala or Atlanta. I’d
have to take my cue from him.”
Reese paused, letting her answer sink in. He didn’t know
why it surprised him. She lived in Atlanta, yet picturing her
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