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I nodded against his shoulder before pulling away and back to Jonah, my safe person.
Dean turned toward my grandparents, reached into his sports coat pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to them. “I feel like we should talk. Here’s my card. My personal cell is on there. I’ll make myself available to you anytime.”
Grandpa took the card and shrewdly glanced at it. Yes, I wanted to say, he was very successful. Dean had already given me a card. Mr. CEO/President/MD/MBA. Apparently, the entire family was a bunch of overachievers. Roger Stanton was an orthopedic surgeon. Sabine Stanton was a concert pianist, and my brothers were both honor students at some private college I didn’t recognize the name of. It made me not want to visit. At least I could claim I was in love with a doctor.
“We’ll be in touch,” Grandma huffed.
“I look forward to it,” Dean replied, and he sounded like he meant it, even though he had to have known how unpleasant it would be. But as a businessman, he probably dealt with unpleasant situations all the time. And what could be worse than your father keeping your child from you for thirty-five years?
Dean waved to everyone in the room. “It was a pleasure to meet all of you. Merry Christmas.”
“I’ll see you to the door,” I offered.
We slowly walked the short distance together. I wrung my hands the entire way. “So . . . this was weird,” I laughed.
He chuckled. “So it was, but it was also wonderful. I’m thrilled I got the chance to meet you. Maybe next time it won’t be so weird.”
I shrugged. “I’m pretty good at attracting awkward situations, so don’t count on it.”
“You’re funny, like your mom,” he hesitated to say.
“Really?”
He tilted his head. “Don’t you know?”
“There are a lot of things I never knew about her.”
He pressed his lips together. “I will always regret that she died thinking I had abandoned you and her.”
“Would you have believed her if she told you she was pregnant with your child?”
His face turned pale. “I would like to think yes. But we can discuss this more when you come to visit. I don’t want to end on this note. Let me take you in one more time.” He rested his warm hand on my cheek. “Please don’t be a stranger. If you ever need anything, anything at all, I’m a phone call away. Of course, I’ll call you too. And I’ll have Sabine call to convince you to visit.”
“Okay.” I smiled.
“Goodbye, beautiful Ariana.” His eyes misted, making mine do the same.
“Goodbye.” I opened the door and watched him walk out. He stared back at me and waved until he came to the steps. I waved one last time and closed the door.
Jonah was waiting for me, and into the safety of his arms I went. There the floodgates opened. I bawled into his chest, like, racking sobs. The emotion and revelations of the day had overwhelmed me.
Jonah stroked my hair. “Let it out, my love, I’m here for you.”
“I know,” I managed to say between sobs.
I stayed wrapped up in Jonah for pretty much the rest of the day. We ended up doing Christmas dinner at the loft and exchanging gifts. It all passed in a haze. That evening everyone but Jonah and Whitney left. Dani and Kinsley went to the Hollands’ for some swanky Christmas mixer while my grandparents headed home, I’m sure to discuss the day’s events in detail.
Whitney had had an eventful day and fell asleep on the couch clutching her doll. There was nothing sweeter or more innocent than seeing her curled up asleep, probably dreaming of dinosaurs and chess moves. We ended up putting her in my bed so Jonah and I could have the couch. It was pretty much our favorite place to be. And it was a good place to go through the envelope and letters Dean had left me.
In the low lighting, sipping on Kinsley’s spiked wassail, we stared at the pictures and reports the private investigator had sent to Roger Stanton over the years. I was seriously disturbed. He had gone to great lengths to hide his identity. I noticed that for the first several years the letters came from R. Stanton, and it wasn’t until later, when I assumed my real father had graduated from medical school, that he started addressing the letters with Dr. R. Stanton. He was like an evil genius. I was even more disturbed by all the photos of me. I wasn’t sure which photos I hated more, the ones as a child where I looked homeless, or some of the more recent years where I looked homeless.
I thought for sure Jonah would break up with me right there when he flipped through my less than flattering state. However, all he said was, “You looked cute.”
