Chapter 8 - MY FATHER SIGNED AWAY MY SON
The safe-deposit box was worse than I expected.
The forged letter was there.
My fake signature.
Drafts.
Practice versions.
Three different attempts at the I in Ivan.
My mother had literally practiced rejecting my son.
I had to sit down.
Dad stood near the wall of the private bank room.
He did not ask me to forgive him.
Good.
I wasn’t ready.
The second document was twenty pages long.
Petition for Emergency Temporary Guardianship.
Proposed petitioners:
Arthur and Wendy Sterling.
Child:
Unborn male child of Jessica Morgan Sterling.
I looked at Dad.
“You planned this before Leo was born.”
“Wendy did.”
“Your name is on it.”
“I know.”
“Did you sign?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead I asked:
“Why?”
Dad’s eyes filled.
“Your mother convinced me Jessi would use the baby to take family assets.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does when you’ve spent thirty years letting one person explain the world to you.”
I hated how much I understood that.
Because I had done the same thing.
“Was the petition filed?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I stopped it.”
That surprised me.
“When?”
“The day Leo was born.”
“You knew he was born?”
Dad nodded.
The betrayal reopened.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I called your unit.”
“No record.”
“I hung up before speaking to anyone.”
“Why?”
He looked ashamed.
“Wendy told me if we interfered, Jessi would accuse you of abandoning your child and destroy your Army career.”
“That was a lie.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
“Yes.”
That word had become unbearable.
Everyone knew now.
Seven years too late.
Dad handed me another page.
A postal receipt.
The certified paternity notice.
His signature.
“I accepted this myself.”
“I know.”
“I read it.”
I stared at him.
“You read it?”
“Yes.”
“Then you knew Jessi was asking me to contact her.”
“Yes.”
“And you handed it to Mom.”
“Yes.”
I could barely breathe.
“My son grew up without me because you were afraid of your wife.”
Dad did not defend himself.
“Yes.”
I left the room before I said something I couldn’t take back.
That night I told Jessi everything.
She listened quietly.
When I finished, she asked:
“What do you want now?”
I had prepared a hundred answers.
None felt right.
“Whatever Leo needs.”
“And me?”
I looked at her.
“What do you need?”
That surprised her.
Finally she said:
“Time.”
“You have it.”
“No pressure.”
“None.”
“No grand gestures.”
I almost smiled.
“I’m terrible at grand gestures anyway.”
For the first time, she smiled back.
Then her face became serious.
“There’s another thing.”
Of course.
“What?”
“I filed the paternity notice in court because I was afraid your parents would later claim Leo wasn’t yours.”
“Yes.”
“The court sent a second copy.”
“To my parents?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“To you.”
My heartbeat changed.
“Where?”
“To your Army legal office.”
I called Marcus.
He searched the archives.
Then called me back.
“There was a delivery.”
“What happened?”
“Someone picked it up.”
“Who?”
He sent the scanned receipt.
The signature was not Wendy’s.
Not Dad’s.
It belonged to Lieutenant Colonel James Sterling.
My uncle.
May you like
My father’s older brother.
The man who had told me for years that Jessi never tried to reach me.
