19. Mike #2
“What?”
“Including one last winter.”
“What?” I get up, although that isn’t a terrific idea. “That many?” I put a hand on my forehead, suddenly dizzy, though it might not be from the bug. “Why wouldn’t I have gotten them?”
Her lips thin. “Maybe someone else read them and decided you shouldn’t get to. ”
“But who? And why?”
She takes a breath and looks away.
“What did you write to tell me, Sylvia?” I ask again.
Her throat works before she speaks. “I wrote the first time to tell you that I was pregnant.”
“By Luke.”
Her gaze locks with mine. “By you .” I stare at her and she comes back to the table, sitting down again.
I sink into my chair. She’s vehement when she continues, and I appreciate that she’s as determined to sort this out as I am.
Her eyes are wide, her gaze steady, and I could be looking straight into her soul.
“I have never been with Luke. Not once. Not then and not since.” She’s so serious that she obliterates any doubt.
“Before Sierra was born, the only man I was ever with was you.”
I blink. “But that means…Sierra is my daughter.”
“She is.”
I feel so many things all at once that I have to sort them out slowly.
How is it that I didn’t know?
I have a daughter.
Where did Sylvia go? How did she manage?
I have a daughter.
How do we go forward from here?
Why didn’t I get the letters?
When I can’t pick what to ask first, Sylvia continues.
“I wrote again in February when she was born,” she says, her voice husky.
“And I sent you a picture of her. I wanted you to see how beautiful she was. I thought it might change your mind.” A tear spills and I feel like the worst asshole on the planet.
“But you didn’t reply even then.” There’s bitterness in her voice and I can understand that.
“Then I sent you a picture of her every year on her birthday, so you could see how she was growing up. I wrote and told you where we were over and over again, Mike and you never even replied once.”
“Sylvia, I never saw those letters. Are you sure you sent them to the right address?”
She gives me a lethal look, then recites the address of the farm perfectly. “I sent you one just a few months ago, Mike. I sent it right here .” Her voice breaks but I can’t make sense of this. She sounds like she’s telling the truth, but where are the letters? How could so many of them go astray?
Somebody had to have taken them. I can’t explain that.
But Sierra is my daughter and Sylvia told me so. She was furious with me because I never replied. It all makes sense.
“Sierra is my daughter.” I say it out loud and Sylvia nods once before her tears fall in earnest. She buries her face in her hands and I can’t believe that I’ve inflicted so much hurt without having one clue.
I am the asshole who fathered a child and never raised one finger to help. I never knew, but I’m not inclined to give myself that excuse.
“Sylvia, I’m sorry. I had no idea.” She doesn’t look up but I’d feel betrayed in her place. “Where did you go?”
“Una’s sister, Eileen.”
“So, you were with family.” This is a huge relief to me, but she shakes her head.
“For a bit. Eileen died when Sierra was eight, and her kids sold the house.”
“What about you?”
She smiles sadly. “We weren’t in the will.”
“Then why didn’t you come back here?”
She exhales and looks across the room, so forlorn that I want to hold her close and make it all come right. “I was ashamed. I was afraid.” She shrugs. “I told myself that it would be better for Sierra in the city. ”
“Because you remembered how it was for Luke.”
She shrugs again and smiles a little. “We did okay.”
But it wasn’t easy for her. She doesn’t have to say it. I know she gave up her art, but I’ll bet Sylvia gave up a lot more. “Where do we go from here?” I have no idea, but it’s also not just up to me what happens next.
“I don’t know.” She dries her tears and gets a stubborn look. “You could get a paternity test.”
“What for? I believe you.”
Her features soften a little then but her voice is still hard. “You could probably sue for custody, or even take her away from me.”
“No, Sylvia. Never!”
“You can afford her better than I can,” she says, her chin up and her gaze fierce. She’s challenging me and she wants a promise.
It’s exactly the one I intend to give her.
“Never,” I vow, but I’m stuck on those letters. It makes no sense. If there were letters and I never got them, then someone is lying.
I don’t want it to be anyone in my family.
I don’t want it to be Sylvia either.
She’s watching me and I don’t need to guess what she’s thinking. “You can’t think I’m lying to you. Why would I do that?” she demands. “Why would I hide her from you? Why would I lie to you now? Do you really think that little of me?”
“Fair’s fair, Sylvia,” I say. “Why would you assume that I would take Sierra from you? Why would I be such an asshole?”
She takes a breath and eyes me.
She doesn’t have to say it.
“Because you think I was an asshole before.”
She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t have to. I see the truth and it changes everything. Because if Sylvia doesn’t believe in happily-ever-after anymore, it’s because of me, and that means this is my mistake to fix.
She has her arms folded across her chest again, as if she’s holding herself together and I realize that this is the moment she’s been dreading. “What are you going to do?” she asks and her voice is smaller than usual.
“First things first,” I say. “I have an obligation to provide for our daughter, to pay my share, and we’re going to make that right.”
“What do you want? Custody?” Her voice breaks on the word.
“How could I live with a teenage girl? I’d have no clue where to even start with that, and this place, as you’ve noted, isn’t exactly a home.”
“What then?” Some of the edge has gone out of her voice.
“I want an agreement that works for all of us, Sylvia. Make a list of what you want and I’ll make a list, then we’ll meet with Daphne Bradshaw to sort it all out.
I’ll bring my tax returns and she’ll make sure we don’t forget anything.
” I hold up a finger. “The first actionable item should be finding an orthodontist. There must be a good one in Havelock and I’m covering it. ”
“Do you even know what it’ll cost?”
“No clue. Better get an assessment and an estimate first. But no matter how much it is, it can’t make up for fifteen years of me not paying a cent.”
Sylvia blinks. “You’re kidding.”
I fling out my hands. “Why would I joke about doing the right thing?” I demand with frustration and my voice rises.
“Why are you so sure that I’m a dick? We made this beautiful girl together, Sylvia.
I’m sorry I didn’t get your letters. I’m sorry I didn’t reply.
But let’s get this sorted now and make things right. ”
There’s a beat of silence as we stare at each other and I have no clue how she’ll respond. Then, lo and behold, Sylvia smiles.
“Oh, Mike,” she whispers and I see that she’s going to cry again.
“Do not get this virus,” I begin, but she’s ignoring me.
She closes in fast, barreling into my chest, and my arms close around her of their own volition.
Her tears are soaking my T-shirt but she’s laughing a little in her relief and it breaks my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, which is too little too late.
Maybe for everything.
It’s lucky that I’m good at fixing things, because this will be an epic repair.
“Me, too,” Sylvia says, her voice rough.
I hold her close while she cries and hope with everything I’ve got that we still have a chance of a shared future.
Either way, Sierra’s my daughter and I won’t be an absent parent anymore.
“You’re thinking with your dick,” Dad says the next morning when I tell him about Sierra. We’re in his old office, the door closed to listening ears, and he’s already annoyed by the stack of paperwork I’ve left there.
“Where are the letters, Dad? I can’t believe any mail came to the house and you didn’t see it.”
“There were no letters! She’s lying to you, just like every other mercenary bit of trash wanting to marry into the Cavendish fortune.”
I’m bristling at his tone and his choice of words. “Sylvia isn’t mercenary.”
“Isn’t she? I knew what she wanted when you were in high school. She came after you with one thing in mind. Anyone could see it if they looked.”
“She did not.”
“You didn’t look, did you? She probably tricked you into sleeping with her, in order to be able to accuse you of being a father. But that girl isn’t your child. She’s Luke’s child. Anyone can see with a glance that she’s a bad seed.”
I straighten and look at him.
“You don’t believe me,” he says with frustration.
“Of course, you don’t. You always see the good in people, just as your mother did.
I promised her I’d protect you from your own trusting nature.
This woman, Michael, is trying to trick you.
It’s all a ruse to get your money! You’re too ready to accept what people tell you… ”
I interrupt him. “If marriage or money were what Sylvia wanted, she would have come back to Empire years ago and asked for either. She didn’t even tell me about Sierra until last night, when I asked. She wants to do what is right.”
“Oh, really? Where has she been with this child all these years? That girl is Luke’s daughter, and for all you know, they’ve been living together all this time. Both of them are acting with the same selfish disregard for anyone else as I expect from him.”
“If Sierra is Luke’s daughter, why wouldn’t Sylvia pursue Luke? He’s earned a fortune.”
“And he’s spending it as quickly as he can.” Dad shakes his head. “No, there’s no future in that, and she’s smart enough to see it. I’ll give her that. You’re her second choice and don’t forget it.”
I still want to believe Sylvia.
Dad knows it and he steps in closer. “How can you be so sure this is your child, Michael? Did you have a paternity test?”
“I don’t need one. ”
“You’re wrong!”