That First Special Kiss

Trying futilely to guess what he might want to talk to her about, she motioned toward the couch. “Please, sit down.”

He settled on the end of the couch, setting the leather portfolio on the table in front of him. Kelly perched on a nearby chair. “What is this about, Joe?”

Opening the folder, he extracted a five-by-seven-inch photograph. “Do you recognize this man?”

The uniformed man in the picture was older than she remembered, his hair a bit grayer, his face somewhat more lined. But she knew him immediately from photographs her mother had left her. “This is my father, air force colonel Jack Morrison. The last I heard, he was stationed somewhere in Europe.”

Joe nodded. “I wondered if you would recognize the photograph.”

“Has something happened to him?” Was that what this visit was about? W

as she being officially notified, as her father’s heir, perhaps, that she was now an orphan in reality, though she had been virtually orphaned when her mother died over ten years ago?

“No, he’s fine,” Joe assured her. “He’s looking for you actually. He wants to see you again, and he doesn’t know where you’ve been living since you moved from Longview.”

Kelly blinked in surprise. “You’re kidding,” she said blankly—her first reaction to the unexpected news.

“I’m not known for being much of a kidder.”

Despite her confusion, she couldn’t help smiling a little at his wry tone. She had always liked Joe Walker, even though she didn’t know him well. And then her smile faded. “How do you know he’s looking for me?”

“He contacted our agency, which isn’t so surprising, considering that we’ve earned a reputation in this state for reuniting families. I happened to take the call.”

“Did you tell him where I am?”

“I didn’t even tell him I know you,” Joe replied. “I told him I would look into it and get back to him.”

“I can’t believe he wants to see me again after all these years.” She pressed her fingertips to her suddenly throbbing temples. “The last time I saw him, I was eight years old. I didn’t even hear from him when my mother died. Do you know about my mother, Joe?”

“Why don’t you tell me about her?”

“She was German. My father met her when he was stationed at Spangdahlem Air Base twenty-five years ago. He married her, brought her to Marshall, Texas—his hometown—and then spent most of their marriage away from her. My father was on temporary assignment in the Philippines when I was born. He thought his family in Marshall would look out for his wife, but they didn’t like her. His father was a World War II veteran who was vehemently opposed to having a German daughter-in-law. My parents stayed married for seven years, and then he divorced her, leaving her to raise their child alone in this new country.”

She sighed heavily, the memories weighing on her. “I saw my father one time after the divorce. He popped in for a visit on my eighth birthday. He brought me a shiny new bicycle, patted me on the head and then vanished from my life again. He sent monthly support checks—probably an automatic deduction from his paycheck. My mother banked them for my education, moving to Longview and working two jobs there to support me. When I was eleven, she developed cancer. She couldn’t take care of me, so she placed me in a foster home run by Ethel Fendel, a friend of hers. That’s where I met Brynn. Two years later, after a long, painful illness, my mother died. My father’s monthly checks continued to be deposited into my trust fund, but I never heard from him. Not a call, not a card. Nothing. And now he wants to see me again?”

“You don’t have to see him, Kelly. I can tell him I contacted you, and you requested that he respect your privacy and leave you alone.”

Kelly twisted her fingers in her lap. “That’s what I should do, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She studied his unrevealing face. “You think I should see him?”

“I didn’t say that, either.” Joe rested his forearms on his knees, leaning toward her. “This is entirely your decision. There is no right or wrong choice, only what feels right to you.”

“Oh, you’re a lot of help.” She gave him a wry smile.

He returned it ruefully. “Sorry. I’m afraid I’m not very good at that sort of thing. But if it helps, I can understand how you feel—at least a little. When I learned that my brother and sisters were looking for me after more than twenty years apart, I wasn’t at all certain I wanted to see them again. Ryan and I had made a pretty good life for ourselves, and I wasn’t sure I wanted the complication of a family I hardly remembered.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Lauren,” he admitted. “And Ryan. Both of them were curious about the family, and both thought we needed to put the past to rest in order to get on with our futures.”

“I don’t have to ask how the reunion turned out You seem happy to have your family back in your life.”

“I am,” he answered simply.

“But you have to admit this is different. You and your siblings were separated through no fault of your own. My father chose to leave. He chose to let me be raised in a foster home. He could have been there for me when I needed him, but he wasn’t.”