Damaged (50 page)

Mary didn't know if Machiavelli was trying to redeem himself after his conduct, or if he was trying to prove to her that he didn't know that Robertson had attacked Patrick at school. Either way, it was good news.

“You don't have to thank me, Mary.”

“Don't worry, I won't.” Mary realized that Robertson's arrest vindicated Patrick's side of the story, so the Complaint was less credible now, anyway.

“And don't think you won. We live to fight another day. The day I'm in court against you, you'll lose and you'll lose
big
.”

“Don't hold your breath. On second thought, do.” Mary hung up, hugely relieved. Patrick wouldn't have to undergo any deposition, which was great.

Suddenly her phone started ringing again, and she looked at the screen to see that it was Lou. He was probably calling about what had happened to her, since he hadn't been in this morning when she'd filled them all in.

Mary pressed Answer. “Lou, hi. Thanks for calling, but I'm fine.”

“Good, but guess who's with me at the office?”

“Who?”

“Patrick's father.”

 

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

“What the
hell
?” Mary closed her office door with Lou and John inside. As soon as she'd hung up with Lou, she'd called John and asked him to come in, as her family law expert. They'd agreed to talk privately before they went into the conference room, where Patrick's alleged father was supposedly waiting.

“Mary, stay calm. We'll get this sorted.” John took the seat next to Lou, crossing his leg. He still had on the clothes he'd worn to court, minus the tie and jacket, and he looked characteristically composed.

“Mare, he's right, I don't know why you're so damn upset.” Lou groaned as he eased into the other chair. His polo shirt had a new mustard stain on the front, and his slacks were wrinkled. “You wanted me to find this kid's relatives, cousins, uncles, whatever. I found his
father
. I thought you'd be happy!”

“Lou, I appreciate what you did. Thank you.” Mary leaned against the credenza, too antsy to sit at her desk. “But this is a huge surprise. Edward told me Patrick's father was dead. His father hasn't been in Patrick's life ever.
Patrick
thinks his father is dead. I don't know if I believe that it's really his father. That's why.”

“It's him,” Lou said, matter-of-factly.

“You don't know that,” Mary shot back, more sharply than she intended. She couldn't begin to control her emotions. She'd rushed out of the house, grabbed a cab, and gotten to the office as quickly as she could, leaving a bewildered Anthony to babysit.

John raised a hand like a referee. “Point of law. This man's paternity is not yet established. Proceed from there.”

Mary repeated, “Edward told me that Patrick's father is dead.”

Lou threw up his hands. “So you said, but I looked into it. That's what you wanted me to do. Remember, you asked me to do this?”

“How did you look into it? What did you find out? How?”

“Basic police work, like in the old days. Except it was easier because nobody's hiding.” Lou slid a skinny notebook from the back pocket of his slacks, then flipped the cover open. “I went to City Hall, trying to run down anybody on Edward's side. You know how many people are named O'Brien in Philly? Don't ask.”

Mary leaned against the credenza, willing herself to be patient, since this was the day when nobody wanted to tell her anything quickly enough. In contrast to her, John folded his long arms and listened quietly, since he was congenitally patient.

Lou continued, “So I thought, let me look up Patrick's birth certificate, and I did. Suzanne, his mother, musta filled it out, and where the father is supposed to be listed, it says ‘unknown.' So she didn't put his name on. She didn't list the father.”

John interjected, “She doesn't have to.”

Lou turned, surprised. “She doesn't have to put the father's name on the birth certificate?”

“No.” John shook his head. “Let me give you the fundamentals of paternity law in Pennsylvania. Everything depends on the marital status of the mother at the time of the child's birth. If she's married, her husband is presumed to be the biological father unless they both give a written acknowledgment identifying another person as the biological father. If she's not married, which presumably is our situation, she doesn't have to put anybody on the birth certificate.”

Mary listened, letting John's professorial tone soothe her.

“In fact, if the mother isn't married, the father is identified on the birth certificate only if both parents also sign a voluntary acknowledgment of paternity, called an AOP, or if a court has made the determination.” John paused. “In my
pro bono
work, when I represent indigent unmarried mothers, I always advise them to get an AOP and get the father's name on the birth certificate. If they don't, they can't go after him for child support and he has no rights to visitation. But a single mother who doesn't intend to seek child support and who doesn't
want
the father to have visitation or other rights, is so signifying by not putting his name on the birth certificate.”

Lou shook his head, frowning. “It's like it doesn't matter if he's the father.”

John shook his head again. “No, the point is that the law distinguishes between a biological father and a legal father. Every child has a biological father, but not every child has a legal father. Patrick has a biological father, which may or may not be this man. But Patrick doesn't have a legal father because there's no father's name on his birth certificate. Right now, Mary is the closest thing he has to a legal parent because she was declared his legal guardian today.”

Lou looked at Mary, his regret plain. “Mare, sorry I didn't let you know. I woulda but my phone ran out of battery. I left without my charger.”

Mary didn't want to give him a hard time. “So tell us what you found out.”

“Well, you gave me a few facts to start with.” Lou glanced at his notebook. “Edward gets married in 1983 at the age of forty. He marries Patty, who's thirty-two. They have a daughter two years later, in 1985, that's Suzanne, Patrick's mother. You told me Suzanne dropped out of Penn State when she got pregnant. I assumed she was class of 2006 and I also assumed she went to the main campus because everybody wants the main campus. My niece, she woulda killed to get on the main campus—”

“So you went up there, to State College?” Mary hadn't seen this coming. It was about a three-hour drive.

“Yes, sure.”

“Really?” Mary couldn't make herself sound happy about it, but she wasn't unhappy yet, either. She still couldn't believe that the man in the conference room was really Patrick's father. She was trying to process it, after a long and difficult day.

“Mare, I drove to the boonies for you. Gimme credit, would you?” Lou opened his palms in appeal, his gray eyebrows flying upward. “I went the extra mile, I thought you
wanted
to find this kid's relatives.”

“I know, thank you,” Mary said, too anxious to feel truly grateful. “So then what happened?”

“I went to the registrar's office, told them the situation, and since Suzanne passed, they took pity on me and showed me her records. She was in the Schreyer Honors College, a smart cookie. She lived in Atherton Hall, and I found out who the residence advisors used to be.” Lou checked his pad again. “The residence advisor for her floor was Julia Thomas, and one of the girls in the registrar's office knew her. She told me that Thomas got her graduate degree and she still works at Penn State, in the admissions department. So I went there and I asked her do you remember Suzanne O'Brien and do you remember who she was dating when she dropped out?”

“But he's supposed to be dead!”

“What can I tell you? He ain't. Julia told me that Suzanne had a steady boyfriend and his name was Norman Lavigne. He sang in a band that used to play in a restaurant. Suzanne worked as a waitress in the same restaurant. That's how they met.”

“I just don't believe this.”

John folded his arms again, saying nothing.

Lou checked his notebook again. “The name of the restaurant is The Vines, and it's a brewpub. So I went over to the restaurant and I started asking around about Suzanne O'Brien and Norm Lavigne, and it turns out that Lavigne's father Bill owned the restaurant. Bill would be Patrick's grandfather, but he's dead and so's his wife.”

“Why didn't Norm Lavigne come forward before? Why is he coming forward now? Did he ditch her when he found out Suzanne was pregnant? Or did she ditch him? How do you know he's the real—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Lou put up both hands. “Mare, don't get crazy. Norm should answer these questions. He wants to.”

“I don't want him to,” Mary heard herself say, then couldn't believe the words had slipped out of her mouth.

“Why not?” Lou frowned, mystified.

John looked over at Mary, pursing his lips, but behind his glasses, his eyes looked knowing.

Mary answered, “Lou, I just got Patrick, I became his guardian today. He met my parents, and Anthony's on board. We're going to orientation at his new school tomorrow. He's finally going to get help. I have it all set up.”

“Mare.” Lou recoiled. “It's the boy's
father
.”

John shook his head. “We don't know that. Remember, Lou. We have to proceed slowly. This man could be a fraud.”

“Totally!” Mary's mind raced, her emotions tumbling over one another. “He could be a
total fraud
, coming out of the woodwork because he believes Patrick has money. Or for all we know, Machiavelli sent him. Maybe it's one of his schemes. Ask yourself, why didn't DHS find this Lavigne?”

John interjected, “DHS follows if there is a legal father named in the birth certificate. If there's no legal father, they end their inquiry. They don't have the resources to search for biological fathers, especially if he hasn't surfaced in a decade.” John gestured toward the conference room. “Let me do the talking when we go in there. Even if Lavigne is the biological father, he'll have to go to court to establish paternity and become the legal father. Right now we have all the cards and that's the way I want to keep it.”

Lou frowned. “I don't understand what you mean.”

Mary's ears pricked up, listening as John answered:

“I represent Mary, and she has to make a decision about what's best for Patrick. Even if Lavigne is Patrick's biological father, she doesn't have to hand Patrick over to him. In fact, she
can't
. Only a court can do that. If Lavigne is the biological father, he'll have to prove it by a DNA swab and petition the court for paternity. He can do that now or anytime until Patrick turns eighteen. And if Lavigne does try to do that, Mary can decide how she wants to react. She may oppose Lavigne's petition, if she wishes.”

Lou frowned more deeply. “Why would she, if Lavigne is the real father? I mean, the biological father?”

“That's Mary's decision,” John answered calmly. “She may not think Lavigne is an adequate parent or she may have other reasons. Mary doesn't know anything about Lavigne, and neither do I. Our job is to preserve her options. She has a legal right to make that decision. So when we go into the conference room, I don't want any of us to say anything that would negate Mary's rights.”

“Okay.” Lou rose slowly, then placed a heavy hand on Mary's shoulder. “Come on, he can tell you the whole story.”

“Let's go.” John stood up, brushing down his pants.

Mary still couldn't wrap her mind around it. “He came all the way here from State College?”

Lou squeezed her shoulder. “No, they live closer in Reading. They followed me back in their car.”

“
They?
”

“Him and his wife. She's a real sweetheart. Amanda.” Lou sighed, exhaling heavily. “You been under a lot of strain lately, kiddo. I don't blame you bein' upset. Let's go hear what he has to say.”

“I agree.” John shot Mary a reassuring look.

Lou flashed her a final smile. “Mare, look on the bright side. If you hadn't done everything you did, we never woulda known Patrick's father was really alive.”

John looked over, but said nothing.

Mary set her emotions aside and opened the door.

 

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Everybody shook hands, introducing themselves and forcing smiles despite the undercurrent of tension. Nobody offered anybody coffee, and the air in the conference room smelled stale. Outside the window the night sky had gone black, except for the stacked squares of windows where office lights were on. They usually reminded Mary of waffles, but that was when she was in a better mood, not now.

She felt sick to her stomach because Norm Lavigne looked a lot like Patrick, and vice versa. Lavigne had a longish face with a pointed chin but his front teeth protruded slightly, an overbite that wouldn't require correction and so never got one. He had smallish blue eyes set close together, with a long nose just like Patrick, except he didn't have any freckles. His hair was a shade darker than Patrick's, medium brown and cut in shaggy layers around his ears, which contributed to a vaguely organic vibe created by his work shirt and jeans. He had on a leather bracelet with his runner's watch.

His wife, Amanda, looked about the same age, maybe thirty-something, and she was pretty, with a sweet, if uncomfortable, smile. Her greenish-hazel eyes were set far apart with only light makeup, and she had a small nose and a mouth shaped like a Cupid's bow. Her hair was dark blonde and long enough to cover her shoulders, and she had on a blue handknit sweater with oversized loops. In other circumstances, Mary would have asked her where she bought it.