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Authors: What the Heart Knows

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It
wasn't too surprising that she had no answer for that. He felt a little bad
about that, too. She'd always been a pretty cool mom, never embarrassed him by
yelling at him in front of his friends, or running around the yard in her
bathrobe like Karl Pringle's mother, or wearing too-tight clothes. She went out
of her way to be there when he needed her, and she knew better than to be too
obvious about it.

But
telling him he didn't have a father and then coming up with one, and the guy
didn't know anything about him,
and the guy was a big-time basketball
player...
jeez, not
too
embarrassing. The sooner he got back to
Colorado, the sooner his "father" could go back to being dead.

Which
was what Sidney was thinking when he answered the door and there stood his new
father, very tall, very dark, and very much alive.

"Hi,
Sid."

He
stepped back to let the man in. Talk about embarrassment! It felt too weird now
to look him in the face, so he didn't. He looked over his shoulder for help.
"Mom's in the kitchen."

"It's
always good to see your mom, but I came mostly to see you."

"Yeah,
well, here I am." God, this guy was tall. Barely fit through the door. Was
he
going to grow that much? "I guess I'm stuck here for a couple
more days."

"Surprising
your mother with a visit, man, that's..." The guy was making himself right
at home, sitting on the end of the flowered sofa. He looked up at Sidney like he
expected him to do something next. "That's a very thoughtful thing to
do."

"It
was Carter's idea."

"Sounds
to me like you hatched it together."

"Yeah,
well..." Sidney lifted one shoulder. "I'm sorry about it now."

"I'm
not." Reese smiled. It looked like an honest smile, like he wasn't just
smiling because he had something to sell. There was some shine to his eyes, and
it was aimed right at Sidney, made him feel like he'd done something right.
"Everybody's a little shook up right now, but that's what surprises are
all about."

"You're
not mad?"

The
big man shook his head.

"Why
not? Because you don't believe it, either? I mean, how can you be sure I'm
really your kid?"

"I'm
sure."

"Okay,
then, how can I be sure you're my father?"

"Well..."
Reese hopped up from the sofa, laid his hand at the base of Sidney's neck, and
steered him toward the big mirror above the buffet. Sidney was keenly aware of
the warmth and the size of that hand and how light it felt, how easy it rode on
his back. Was it really his father's hand?

And
could he still dunk a basketball, or had he gotten too old?

"What
do you think?"

"Huh?"
Sidney blinked and focused on the mirror. The big man had to squat some to get
his face into it. Jeez,
what did he think?
Little guy, big guy. Young,
old. Zits, no zits. Neither one had much beard. Sidney shrugged. "I think
we've both got almost the same color hair."

"That's
just for starters. You wear contacts, don't you?"

"Yeah.
You?"

"Nearsighted."

"Me,
too. Mom doesn't wear glasses." So what does that prove? Sidney wondered.
"You're darker than I am."

"I'm
more Indian than you are, have more pigment. But you're definitely Indian. Your
mother's a beautiful woman, but I don't think there's much doubt about who's
got the dominant genes."

"Who's
got—"

"You
know, the—"

"I
know what genes are." Sidney pulled away. "I got an A in life
science." Nobody was going to prove anything by looking in a mirror.
Mirrors were tricky. This guy could disappear from the picture as fast as he'd
shown up.

"Your
mom says you do very well in school."

Sidney
put a chair between them, looked the guy right in the eye, and said, very
quietly, "Yeah, well, I also know that just because you fucked my mother
doesn't make you my father, and that's not something I learned in school."

The
man didn't flinch. They stood there looking at each other for a long moment,
with Sidney holding onto the back of the chair, thinking, Your move. Just try
to tell me how to talk.
Just try.

"Fair
enough," the man finally said, equally quietly. "It's probably too
soon to ask you where you did learn it."

"You
can ask. I don't have to tell you."

"That's
right, you don't." It was the man's turn to lift a shoulder. "What
would
make me your father?"

"How
am I supposed to know?"

"Well,
so far, you're the expert. I'm still in the discovery phase, kinda feeling my
way in the shadows."

"Discovery?
What discovery? I've been here all along. Other people have fathers they have
to worry about—you know, like, I have to ask my dad, my dad says no, my dad
says yes, my dad says this and that.
My
father's been dead. That's what
I
know." He was getting a little excited, waving first one hand around, then
the other, and his voice had gone squeaky on him. His heart was pounding like a
bass speaker. He tried for quiet again. "So now what?"

"Now
I'm not dead."

"Maybe
you
aren't, but..." Sidney gestured wildly toward the mirror and
shook his head. "Just because you think I look like you? Maybe I look like
your brother, too."

"Nah,
he's—"

"Maybe
I do. Maybe she was fuckin' around with him, too."

The
guy's eyes went stony, but the tone of his voice stayed low-key. "I gotta
tell you right now, Sid, I want us to be honest with each other, but I care a
lot about your mother. Any guy who bad-mouths your mother is looking for
serious trouble." He nodded once. "Just so you know."

"What
kind of trouble?"

"Depends
on how big the guy is." The man squared his shoulders and drew a deep
breath, which made him seem even taller. "I've got a feeling if it's you
and me, we can probably come to an understanding just talking about it. Because
I think we both feel the same way about your mom."

Sidney
started to take exception to that claim, but the big man backed off quickly.
"Okay, maybe not quite the same. She's your mom, and that's..." He
paused, then shook his head, looking puzzled. "You know, I don't know what
that's like, because my mother died when I was very young.
Really
died.
You've had your mom with you all your life, so that's something special, the
love you have for each other. It's not the same as what I feel for her, and
there's no way I'm going to disrespect that." He took a step closer.
"And I don't think you mean to disrespect it, either, do you?"

Sidney
shook his head. He was still hanging onto the back of that chair.

"There
are blood tests we can have done, if that's what you need, Sid. I'm willing,
but it isn't necessary. And it isn't just because we look alike." He was
there by Sidney's side now with that big, warm hand on his shoulder, looking
him in the eye and telling him earnestly, "I know your mother. I knew her
thirteen years ago, and I..." He nodded solemnly. "We both know her,
and we both know that what she's telling us is true."

"But
she never told you about me," Sidney protested.

"She
was afraid to."

"Why?
What would you do?"

"I
might have... I
could
have done a lot of things."

"What's
that supposed to mean?" Sidney had gone this far, now he wanted
explanations. "All this time. All this time you didn't know about
me?" His father pressed his lips together and shook his head slowly.
"What would you have done?"

"I'm
not trying to give you any runaround here, Sid. There's no way I can answer
that now. Don't ask me to come up with some bullshit that can't do anything but
cause us more trouble."

"Would
you have married her?"

"I
want to tell you something." The hand slid to Sidney's other shoulder,
making it like they were buddies. "I don't know if you've, uh, gone out
with any girls yet..."

"No."

"Good,
so there's a first I haven't missed."

"This
has something to do with marrying my mom?"

"When
I first met your mother, I thought she was way, way beyond my reach. I couldn't
even believe she'd talk to me, or sit beside me, or go out with me. I mean, she
was that beautiful and smart and classy and..." He squeezed Sidney's
shoulder and rocked him a little. "Hell, she still is; you know that.
She's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, right?"

"Well,
pretty much."

"And
at the time, I was a little younger than she was. I'm not anymore, though.
We're even up now."

Suddenly
there was a loud clattering of pans coming from the kitchen. Sidney glanced in
that direction.

His
father was smiling at him again, going on a little louder with his point.
" 'Cause men are kinda slow getting started, but once that aging thing
kicks in, man..." He urged Sidney to walk with him, pointed toward the
kitchen, kept right on talking. "Do I look younger than she does? Not at
all. Never did. Can't remember when I wasn't looking around at the tops of
heads and feeling like everybody's papa, you know?"

Sidney
knew.

The
big man grinned, signaling toward the kitchen with his eyes. "But she's
not that much smarter than me anymore, either."

His
mom was laughing now.

"See,
I knew that would get her," Reese said. "Does she usually spend this
much time in the kitchen?"

"Not
usually. She's probably trying not to listen. But she can't help it."

"Tell
you what, Sid. I wasn't too sure whether I could come up with the right things
to say, but I figure I must be doing all right because she's not gonna let
anyone say or do anything to hurt you."

"What
do you mean, the right things to say?"

"To
get you to give me a chance."

"A
chance to what?"

"To
play on your team even though I missed the tip-off."

Sidney
laughed as they walked into the kitchen together. "You missed a little
more than that."

"We
can't get that back, so we have to let it go. Right, Mom? Hey..."

She
was laughing, sort of, but she had big tears rolling down her face at the same
time. It was Sidney who moved to put his arms around her first, because one
thing that really shook him up was seeing his mother cry. She hugged Sidney,
but then he lost one of her arms to Reese, and pretty soon the longest arms
Sidney had ever had such a close encounter with were there for both of them.
But not too close. Just a hand on his back and an arm around his mother, which
felt okay.

"I
was so wrong," she was blubbering into Reese's shirt.

"Maybe."
Reese was kinda messing his chin in her hair. "Maybe not. We don't know,
and it doesn't matter. You did what you thought was right for Sid."

"But
he needed—"

"Shh.
Whatever he needs now." She looked up, smiling the best she could with all
the sniveling, and Reese said, "Whatever he needs, whatever you
need."

Sidney
had to back out of this now. A little hugging went a long way. Pretty soon you
started feeling cramped and noticing things like nose hair and skin pores that
looked like craters, and you had to get untangled and stretch out a little.

"What's
for supper?" He knew it was going to be chicken—he'd already seen his
mother fooling around with it—but he wanted her to stop crying, and chicken
wasn't something she was likely to cry over.

He
was right. She cheerfully described the stuff she had going in the oven while
she mopped her face with a bunch of Kleenex.

Then
she pulled a drawer open. "Do you want to see pictures?"

Oh,
man, Sidney moaned mentally. Baby pictures!

"I've
got a few here." She whipped out one of her little albums. "I've got
a lot more at home."

Reese
gave him a knowing look. He held the small blue book of plastic sleeves in his
hands like something valuable and delicate, something he maybe wanted to keep
for later. "I'll have to get out there and see them, won't I?" he
said, and Sidney wasn't sure, but it seemed like he was looking for
his
permission.

"Plan
to stay a while," Sidney said. "She's got videos, too."

"That's
cool." Reese grinned. Pictures were okay, but it seemed like he was more
interested in the kid standing in front of him right now, which was what was
really
cool. "I hear you play a little round ball."

Sidney
suddenly remembered Reese on video.

"I'm
not really that good yet. You might want to hold off before you claim me."

"All
right, back to the mirror again," Reese said, laughing. And he made Sidney
stand with him again in front of that mirror.

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