Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
LEWIS
Aknock sounded, and I turned to find my dad standing in my office doorway.
“Heard you got the plans submitted to the council for the Tain project?”
“Aye.” I swung around in my chair to face him. “The clients are in love with the finalized plans, so let’s hope the council doesn’t knock it back.”
“Unlikely,” he assured me. “Not on a plot like that.”
“Even with it being visible from the water?”
“Even then. I’ll be surprised.”
That reassured me since Dad had years of experience submitting plans to the local council. “Do you want to grab some lunch?”
“Aye, I was just coming to ask you that.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’d grabbed a table in a restaurant in the middle of the city. “How’s Callie?” Dad asked.
“Good.” I nodded, scanning the menu. “She feels great, got lots of energy at the moment.” I cleared my throat as my words immediately conjured images of how she was expending that energy upon me.
Dad snorted. “No need to say anymore. Second trimester. I remember it well. Good times.”
I grimaced. “Dad, no. I don’t even want to contemplate that between you and Mum.”
“How do you think Mor got here?”
“Aye, aye.” I might be a grown man, but my parents’ sex life would never be a comfortable discussion.
“Anyway, Callie is good. Marveling at Mum’s ability to pull an engagement party together so quickly.
Even after all these years, she hasn’t quite grasped that Mum is Superwoman.
” Seriously, for as long as I could remember, Mum had always been able to juggle a million different tasks, pulling them off like it was easy.
“Regan enjoys the planning. She’s ecstatic for you and Callie. We both are.”
“Thanks.” I looked up from the menu. “I’ve been thinking about my birth mum a lot lately.”
Dad’s gaze flew up and he waited silently for me to continue.
My parents had always made the subject of my birth mother a safe topic, approachable.
“I’ve realized, now that I’m going to be a parent, I’ve never really asked about her.
Francine. I don’t remember her. And when Mum—Regan—came into our lives, after a while it just felt right to think of her as Mum. ”
“The first time you called her Mum she came into the bedroom sobbing with happiness,” Dad said fondly. “You know she loves you and Eilidh as if you were her own.”
“I know. I’ve always felt that. And I suppose …
I forgot to ask more about Francine because of it.
Eilidh would try to talk to me about her, and I felt like I was betraying Regan, so I didn’t want to.
And now, I think about if something happened to me, and Callie moved on with someone else and our kid forgot about me …
” Guilt was a sharp ache in my chest. “I feel like shit. I feel like instead of betraying Regan, I betrayed Francine.”
Dad’s expression tightened but before he could respond, the server came over.
We quietly gave our orders, and then once the server left, Dad leaned across the table.
“Lewis, we all deal with loss in our own way. It was easier for you to fill the emptiness Francine left in our lives by accepting Regan fully as your mum. I never resented that. I was grateful for it. And it doesn’t make you a bad son. ”
I nodded, releasing a heavy exhale. “You would talk to us about her if we asked … but I’m a man now, and I want to know what my mother was really like.
What your relationship was like. The truth is, I think you love Regan the way I love Callie, and so I can’t imagine loving someone else that way. Did you? Love Francine that way?”
My dad shifted in his chair, a frown marring his brow as he contemplated my question. Finally, “I loved your mother. A lot. I wouldn’t have married her otherwise. Francine was intelligent and funny and beautiful. Eilidh is her absolute spitting image.”
I nodded because I knew that from photographs.
“But our marriage wasn’t perfect.”
Intrigued, I waited for him to tell me more.
“I … I don’t want this to change how you feel about her memory … fuck, I don’t even know … I’ve never …” Dad sat back in his chair, regret tightening his features. “Never mind.”
“Dad … I want to know who she really was.”
He was quiet so long I didn’t think he’d answer.
“Your mum cheated on me before Eilidh was born. With the man who tried to kidnap Eilidh from the school gates all those years ago.”
Shock ricocheted through me. “Dad …” My voice came out hoarse. “Is Eilidh …”
“She’s mine.” He hurried to assure me. “I had a DNA test done after Sean McClintock came out of the woodwork. He was grieving and he thought Eilidh was his.”
I remembered it. I was just a wee boy, but I remember that man trying to steal Eilidh, how Regan had protected us with her body, refusing to let go of us. They’d told us he was a grieving, sad stranger whose wife and daughter had died, and that he’d mistaken Eilidh for his daughter.
“He was a teacher at your mother’s school. I caught them together.”
“Dad … I’m sorry.”
He nodded calmly, and I realized that he’d healed from it. Fully. Because of Regan. “I tried to forgive Fran because we had you, and she promised me it was a mistake. Then when she realized she was pregnant with Eilidh, I decided to let it go. To move on. For our family.”
I was in awe of him because I wasn’t sure I could have done the same.
“So, aye, Lew, I loved Fran. You have her sense of humor, you know.”
I smiled. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Was it hard to fall in love with Regan?”
“No.” Dad expelled a breath. “I won’t lie to you. As much as I loved your mother and will always love your mother, I have never loved a woman the way I love Regan. She healed me. And she healed the two people I love more than anything.”
“Me and Eilidh,” I said gruffly.
“Aye.”
“But I could never forget Fran.” He reached over and tapped my chest. “Because she’s still here in you and Eilidh.”
“It sounds like she had a bit of recklessness in her, though.”
“Maybe. Aye.”
“I worry that’s where Eilidh gets it from.”
Dad nodded grimly. “I worry too. Your sister throws herself at life, sometimes without thinking of what she’s throwing herself at. She’s all bravado, you know. Her heart’s softer than anyone’s, and I worry that industry will change her.”
“Callie thinks she’ll find her way home.”
Concern creased Dad’s brows. “Let’s hope your fiancée is right.”
Our food arrived and as we dug in, I offered, “Thanks for telling me about Fran.”
“Anytime.”
“I … I’m not judging her. Just so you know. I don’t feel it’s my right since I never got to know her.”
Dad contemplated me. “You’re the best of men, Lewis. I am so proud to be your father. And Fran … you were her entire world. You should know that.”
Emotion clogged my throat and I nodded, unable to speak.
And so we ate in companionable silence while I contemplated everything he’d told me, promising myself that I owed Francine a visit. I hadn’t been to her grave in a long time, and I had so much I needed to tell her.