In the Land of Milk and Honey Read online

  “I prefer classic rock, but he’s my favorite pianist,” I replied smilingly as I refolded the glasses. “When he gave concerts women would scream out for him and faint. The parlors he played in were standing room only, and they say he caused a mania in his audience,” I finished, tucking his glasses in his pocket and absentmindedly patting them for good measure.

  “I know,” he replied as his big hand covered mine, which had rested on his pocket after the pat. I gave him a confused look and discreetly slid my hand from under his when something hit me.

  “Do you play?” I questioned.

  “No,” he answered. “Why do you ask?” He seemed suspicious as his jaw tightened. He peered down at me.

  “Just wondering about something I have,” I dismissed, thinking of my journal entry, but it couldn’t be. I headed for the front when I heard him ask from behind me, “Did you keep it?”

  I froze and turned my head back to him. “Keep what?” I inquired slowly. Did he mean the baby? Did he know I got pregnant? I was growing unbearably paranoid.

  We both stared at each other like we both had a card to play we weren’t ready to show. Finally, his jaw became less tense and he strode forward towards the front. I silently followed.

  Claire was chatting up one of the suited men that had come in with Daniel, and the other suit tinkered with an expensive lamp on one the displays. Grunts, I decided. Neither appeared to have any other mission than just being there and walking Daniel from place to place. I turned up to face Daniel who was still eyeing me like a specimen in a lab scope.

  “You have convinced me you truly don’t remember,” he said. “Perhaps now you need a little reminding.”

  “Right,” I replied uncomfortably, pursing my lips. That sounded like a proposition but my mind was elsewhere. Little did he know I did have a reminder—a four-foot tall, laughing, smiling, calamari-eating reminder. “Well, thanks for coming by.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” he said to my chest.

  “Oops.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “So you’ll be around for a while? In town, I mean.” I needed time to sort this all out.

  “I mean to stay indefinitely,” he replied. “I told you I was coming back,” Daniel added, his lip crooking up in the corner, and I remembered what he’d said that night under the portico.

  I was speechless as I watched him stride towards the door, and his men fell in line behind him.

  “Next time you plan on getting damp for me, Ms. Valentine, do wait until I can join you,” he called from over his shoulder, winking at Claire who started fanning herself. I could’ve used a little air myself.

  “Who was that guy?” she asked like she wanted to know where he’d been all her life.

  Looking down at the framed photo of my son on my desk, I replied, “Just a friend.”

  Chapter 8 - Black Holes & Revelations

  By late afternoon, I’d called a meeting of the minds. I spent my lunch break watching Tristan play from behind the fence at his school while contemplating what my next move should be but came up with nothing. It’s not every day you find the father of your child and it’s a one in ten million day that Daniel Baird is that man. I still hadn’t determined whether those odds were in the ‘I can’t believe I have the lucky numbers!’ category, or in the, ‘I can’t believe I’ve been selected as human tribute in a dystopian fantasy’ column.

  Daniel did not appear to be a kid person, and he didn’t have any of his own from what I’d discovered. That would have made things easier. Truly, he didn’t seem to be much of a people person in general. I had seen the more charismatic side to him, but he appeared acutely aware of his effect on people. He’d used ‘the smile that raised one thousand white flags’ only when he was trying to manipulate a situation or distract someone from his intentions. Like dodging damaging questions in a national interview or trying to come across as harmless towards me. And possibly to take my virginity. All of which confirmed what I suspected; Daniel Baird was not harmless.

  But I needed to compartmentalize whatever his salacious intentions were with me from the greater issue at hand. The greatest issue and mystery of my life. That he had fathered my fatherless son. I ushered Violet and Jill in quickly. Ian was already here. I’d just left him and Tristan playing Transformers on the floor of his room.

  “You’d better be feeding us,” Violet clipped as she peeked in the kitchen. “I skipped a catered production meeting for this.”

  “You don’t look like you’ve skipped many meals, lately,” Jill said lightly.

  “When you don’t make your living as a hanger, you can do that,” Violet grinned and winked up while swinging her fuller hip into Jill’s lank one. They’d spent the last few hours together so their tolerances of each other had expired.

  “Get serious,” I chided, as I breezed past them into the living room. “I need to talk to you guys. And stop picking on each other.”

  “Fun police,” they complained, looking at each other. I blew out some air.

  With the brains of the operation, August, stuck at the office, this was going to be a smaller meeting of the minds than I’d hoped. A meeting of the smaller minds. But maybe our tinier heads combined could come up with something rational. Separately we were intelligent people, but somehow when we got together our IQs plummeted. We were like the opposite of the Power Rangers. I decided to tell them tonight, it sounded like August suspected something anyway, because it was eating away at me.

  “Please, this is serious. I have something important I want to discuss with you,” I said, and they both sat on the couch.

  “Is it Tristan? What happened?” Jill asked as worry flashed on her flawless face.

  “No. Well, sort of, but he’s fine,” I assured them, but Violet narrowed her eyes.

  “Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Ian announced, clapping his hands together, strolling into the living room. “I put in The Crocodile Hunter. Little man should be good for a minute or so.”

  “Great, have a seat,” I encouraged, indicating the sofa and noticed the tension between Jill and Ian. She’d ignored him since Saturday night, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he was hurt. I shook it off and tried to ready myself for the revelation I was about to drop.

  “Bree, stop pacing you’re freaking me out,” Jill begged, leaning forward.

  “Okay.” I halted. I took a mental shot of whiskey and announced, “I think I found Tristan’s father.”

  No one said a word for a really long time, and I finally raised my head to gauge their reactions. Violet and Jill looked like they’d been hit by a truck. Ian looked confused.

  “What do you mean you think you found his father?” Violet finally spoke.

  “Did that company get back to you already?” Jill tilted her head. “I only sent it out on Friday.”

  “What company?” I asked, then remembered her DNA thing. “You sent that out without my permission?” I asked incredulous. That required a sample from Tristan, which I didn’t take. She leaned back in the sofa.

  “I didn’t know if you would, so I—”

  “Stop the presses,” Violet interrupted holding her hands up. “You found him without this company. Tristan’s biological father. On your own.”

  “Well, yes. I found him by accident, actually,” I explained, pacing once again.

  “How?” three astonished voices asked.

  “This weekend at the thing with August. I met this man and then I saw him smile on TV and then I passed out and I just knew. I know—it’s weird—but it’s him,” I finished, throwing my hands in the air.

  “Bree,” Violet assuaged, “Do you wanna have a seat, sweetie?”

  I looked up at them with a furrowed brow, and all three looked like they were ready to put me in a straightjacket. I pursed my lips together in exasperation.

  “Look here,” I said quickly, and kneeled down to flip open my laptop on the coffee table. I thought about preparing a PowerPoint on it because I knew they wouldn’t believe it. As I
typed in Daniel Baird in the search toolbar and hit images, I heard three gasps behind me. I couldn’t look at their faces; instead I tapped the screen a few times. “Just look.”

  I got up and began pacing. Jill and Violet fought for a better view until they were practically on each other’s laps, jostling the edge of the screen. Ian leaned over against the cushions, peering at the screen apprehensively.

  “Dang,” Violet let out a catcall as they scrolled through pictures, then she looked up and shook her head. “He’s fine, but I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

  “He is what I’m getting at,” I stated pointing to the laptop.

  Jill clicked her teeth. “You’re saying that Daniel Baird—the Daniel Baird, BarclayBaird Corporation Daniel Baird, Son of British Parliament member Sir Daniel Hawthorne Baird and Lady Sophie Barclay-Baird—had random unprotected sex with you in the city and fathered Tristan?” She had that straightjacket look on her face again. When she put it that way, it did sound crazy.

  “Is all that true?” I lowered my brow. She arched hers back at me. “I mean all that stuff you just said about his family and all that?”

  “Yes.” She looked skeptically down at the screen, replying vaguely, “He’s been around. Nathan knew of him. He sort of idolized him. I suppose a lot of the Wall Street guys do. I think they even went to Harvard together.”

  “Bree, I think you may be barking up the wrong tree,” Ian added and lowered one brow, but I didn’t miss him frown when Jill said Nathan’s name.

  Violet nodded and looked at the screen. “I guess I see a slight resemblance but nothing that would stand out.” Then she looked up at me with pity in her eyes and shook her head then turned to Jill. “This is like one of those sad episodes on daytime where the lady brings on the wrong guy,” she tsked quietly. Jill shook her head sadly, agreeing. “You are NOT the father!” Vi announced, pointing to the screen. They both giggled. Even Ian stifled a chuckle.

  “What?” I exclaimed and kneeled down, flipping the laptop towards me.

  “I see what you mean,” I conceded as I scrolled through the images. Dozens of pictures of Daniel looking stoic and controlled at all types of events, dressed to the nines. Galas, balls, posing with celebrities, politicians…all serious and powerful. Some included Kate at his side looking elegant and in place. I sighed and went to pull up the online version of the interview from today. “Watch this.”

  I stood back up and faced them as all three huddled in on the playing video. I placed my hands on my hips.

  “Daaa…” Violet started at the ‘stick’ part, but then, Vi froze. Jill narrowed her eyes to get a better look, I guessed, and Ian frowned. They wordlessly snapped the laptop closed, placing it on the coffee table and sliding back in their seats. They knew that smile as well as I did.

  “Jesus Christ, Bree,” Ian muttered sympathetically and shook his head, then Jill cut in.

  “I see it. I do, honestly, but a resemblance could be just that. Maybe he has a doppelgänger somewhere,” she grasped, looking through glass out into the Hudson.

  “Bree, I don’t know about this,” Violet added nervously.

  “I realize how crackpot all this must sound, but I have other proof. He came in to my store today and said he remembered me. I asked him some questions and he told me that we…um…did the horizontal cha-cha,” I added, and scowled at my nervous habit of saying things wrong. I started again slowly in a serious voice. “I mean, he confirmed we had intercourse around the time of conception.”

  Violet’s eyes were saucers and Jill’s jaw flapped open wide. Ian seemed to be in deep thought.

  “He told you that you guys had sex!” Violet exclaimed and then clapped her hand over her mouth. I nodded and she quickly leaned back over and reopened the laptop. Her eyebrows flew up her forehead. Vi exclaimed a choice curse, and Jill elbowed her. Vi straightened back up. “Sorry.”

  “The reason I’m sharing this piece of information with you is because I have no idea what to do now.” I huffed, crossing my arms.

  “You’d be forfeiting substantial back child support, but, if it’s really him, I recommend a hard kick in the tush and adios,” Jill replied sharply.

  “That’s not helpful, Jill,” I admonished and turned to Violet who was busy making come hither faces at the monitor. I cleared my throat and she straightened.

  “I don’t know, Bree. It doesn’t really make sense.” Vi frowned. “You wouldn’t even talk to guys back then. Zack was obsessed with you, but you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Remember when you first moved here and I hooked you up with that hot drummer, Tyler? I begged you to go out with him, and when you finally did, you wouldn’t go past third with him after like eight dates.”

  “Yes, I remember,” I leered. “And I remember he told everyone in your circle that’s why he quit asking me out. For the record, he stole third.”

  “Exactly,” Violet said, satisfied. “So were you secretly dating or something?”

  “No, he said it was one night,” I recalled from our conversation earlier. “And he knew the exact date.”

  “When was it?” Jill asked quickly and I recited what he told me as she scrolled through her calendar. “That was…New Year’s Day.”

  Shit.

  “Your birthday,” Violet concluded with confusion and looked up at me. “Do you remember what we did that night?”

  I wasn’t surprised she didn’t remember. She and Jill were partiers back then. Shit. The more things made sense, the more confusing they became.

  “We went out,” I said. “We got separated.”

  “Oh. That was the last night I saw you before…I saw you again.” Violet went quiet.

  “You mean before you found me,” I supplied, repeating back what August had told me once a long time ago.

  “Do you remember anything?” Jill probed gently. She leaned forward on the edge of her seat.

  “No,” I answered honestly, but I had a journal entry that said different. Shit.

  “Bree, what do you remember?” Violet pried carefully. I sighed and sat on the edge of the coffee table and stared at my dining table in the adjacent room.

  “I don’t remember that night at all. I remember you getting me dressed and doing my makeup and hair on New Year’s Eve day…and then…I remember waking up in a hospital bed and you telling me I was about five months pregnant,” I finished numbly, and I felt a hand start rubbing my back. I turned slightly and smiled at Ian, drawing some strength.

  “Look, whatever the hell it was, that’s the past. I need to know what to do now,” I said firmly. I didn’t like the sympathy because despite it all, my life was better than I could have ever hoped for. I didn’t have anything to regret. I stood up and turned to face them.

  “I don’t know how to tell him, or if I should, or how any of this works,” I admitted.

  “You should tell him,” Violet said with resolve and nodded her head. “You should call him now and tell him.”

  “No, no. You need to have someone steal his water glass or similar so you can test it. The dates are close, but you cannot accuse a man like that of having an illegitimate child with you without having science and God and Santa Claus behind you,” Jill declared, sternly shaking her head.

  I let their words sink in and paced the floor for a few minutes while they watched me like a human game of badminton.

  “If you must hold us hostage in this condo any longer, provide snacks,” Violet announced, popping up from her chair. Jill gave me a lingering look and followed her to the kitchen.

  I flopped onto the sofa, picking my nails. I turned to Ian, beside me, who had been silent a long while.

  “What do you think, Ian?” I asked quietly.

  “Dunno, Bree.” He sighed and reached around to scratch the back of his broad pale neck. “But I’d be careful with it.”

  I probed Ian. “You seem to be the most uncomfortable with this.”

  “Maybe, but that might be because I know him better than you girls do,�
� he replied casually.

  “Really? You know him, know him?” I asked, taken aback. He nodded.

  “We went to school together,” he confirmed. “He was a year younger, but we were on the same soccer team.”

  I nodded my head slowly. “What was he like?”

  “The same I guess. Cocky, stuck up, just like everyone that went to Harvard. But Daniel wasn’t all bad,” he reflected. “Did I ever tell you how my parents made their money?” I smiled and nodded. He smiled back and chuckled. “Coming from a family in South Boston that got rich off a chain of pawn shops wasn’t exactly looked upon well in the Ivy League set. There was this goalie whose parents were big time, but he sucked. I guess he didn’t suck, but I was better. Trust me,” he nudged me with a smile of full on dimples. “Daniel became captain his sophomore year and had him benched. He got me first string.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “For me? You bet. There was some backlash from the kid’s family, but Baird kept me in. Convinced the coaches, even with the heat from the administrators. I always appreciated that. He was fair,” he assessed, squinting at the far wall. It looked like there was more to the story.

  “But…?” I prompted, and he turned to me with a mega-watt smile.

  “But,” Ian began. “Other than that, he wasn’t really a good guy, Bree. He was always real intense, real serious. He mainly hung out with the other strikers on the team. One was loaded but a total psycho, that guy. They were a fuckin’ pair, let me tell ya. Daniel, though, had a girlfriend he cheated on constantly. We all acted like that, but he didn’t even try hiding it. He could be vicious on the field, and off sometimes. He was definitely big status on campus and he used it.”

  I sighed, wondering what on Earth possessed me to sleep with him. “I have faith it’ll work out.”

  “Plus you got your good luck charm,” Ian smiled and nudged my arm, indicating Tristan. “If you want, you can come with me to this lounge on Friday. It’s only alumni that are doing big business in the city. He might be there. You’d get a chance to feel him out yourself.”