“I should help Mom.” I started toward the table to finish clearing.
“Come here.”
I felt like I was ten years old and about to get in trouble.
“What’s up?” I asked sitting on the couch.
“What was all that about running off with him five years ago?”
“Oh, that?” I waved my hand to show it was no big deal. “It was just a joke.”
His narrow eyes studied me and I felt like they could see right through me. “How was it that you met him?”
I blew out a breath, resolved to have to explain something. “He and his friend came into the restaurant I was working in on St. Patrick's a few years back. He was bored with his usual group so he went with us on the pub crawl. We hung out some the next week and then he moved to Europe.” I made a “that’s all there is to it” shrug and started to stand.
“Sit. I’m not done.”
I stayed seated and hoped my face was impassive.
“Were you going to run off with him?”
“No.” I lied. “I told him my parents said I couldn’t go. I don’t know why you’re harping on this. We were just being silly kids.”
He nodded and I was feeling like I’d dodged a bullet.
“Five years ago. St. Patrick's, huh?”
My stomach rolled. “Hmm hmm.”
He started counting on his fingers I knew I was sunk. He reached the ninth finger. “December. Same month as Andrew was born.”
I closed my eyes as one of my fears was realized.
“Serena.” His sharp voice made me blink open in my eyes. “Is that boy Andrew’s father?”
I looked toward the kitchen, not wanting Andrew to hear. When I turned back, I faced my father’s disappointed expression.
“Yes. But he doesn’t know.”
My father’s eyes narrowed even more. “What?”
“Devin doesn’t know about Andrew.”
“You’re telling me that you had Devin Roarke’s child and never told him?”
I looked toward the kitchen again, desperate to not have Andrew here this. “He left and I couldn’t reach him,” I said, knowing it was a dumb defense.
“He wasn’t on Mars. He has family here. Family that could be a big help to you. They can provide things for Andrew that we can’t.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” I said, tersely.
My father jerked back, surprised at my sharp denial.
I leaned forward so I could speak low. “I went to his mother and she told me to never tell him. She even offered me money to go away. Maybe I should have taken it, but it felt wrong.”
“Why that selfish, elitist…” He didn’t finish his statement. He stood, and went to his little liquor cabinet, and poured himself more whiskey. “Why haven’t you told him now?”
Really? After what his mother did to me, he thought I should tell him. “Because I don’t want his mother anywhere near Andrew.”