Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

"So ," Randall finally said, "the people you are living with here are really your relatives, but they don't know it?"

"That's right. Mr. and Mrs. Endfield are my great-uncle and great-aunt, but Grandmother Hudson thought it would be better if they didn't know. The Endfields like being thought of as magnanimous and my Great-aunt Leonora won't be outdone by my grandmother when it comes to charitable acts, especially one as dramatic as this," I told him. "She brags to all her friends that she has an au pair from America."

"But wouldn't it be better for you if they knew? I mean, maybe you wouldn't have to be a servant." he said, "and you could spend all your time on your studies."

"To tell you the truth, Randall, I don't know if it would be better. I have the feeling Grandmother Hudson, who knows them a lot better than I do, believes they probably wouldn't let me live with them. They'd consider it all a big disgrace and ask me to leave. I'm surprised my Aunt Victoria hasn't told them the truth about me just so she could see that take place. She's probably torn between being happy I'm here and unhappy my grandmother cares so much about me and does so much for me."

"If she had never met you before and never even knew you existed, why does she hate you? Is it simply because she's prejudiced or..."

"I don't know if it's me or it's just that she hates her sister, my mother, and therefore anything or anyone connected with her. Except," I said thinking aloud, "I don't get the feeling she dislikes my mother's husband. It's complicated," I said, reaching for my clothing. "It gives me a headache just thinking about it all."

Randall continued to look deep in thought, and then his face suddenly brightened with an idea. I could practically see the lightbulb flash above his head.

"You said your mother told you that your real father came to London to write and to teach, right?"

"Yes?' I clipped on my bra and slipped on my panties. Randall remained as he was, still thinking, his hands still behind his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"And your mother told you he was fond of Shakespeare and wanted to be a Shakespearean scholar and teacher? Isn't that what you said?"

"That's what she said, but I don't know whether to believe anything she told me," I said and finished dressing.

Randall lowered his gaze to me, his face even more animated and excited.

"Why don't we see if we can find him?"

"What? Find whom?"

"Your father. You said you knew his name, Larry Ward. It shouldn't be impossible to locate him. We can start with the greater London phonebook and call every Larry Ward listed," he said.

I shook my head. The very idea put icicles in my heart.

"And do what, ask each one if he's the man who had an affair with a Megan Hudson back when he was in college?"

"Maybe he succeeded and became an English teacher, a Shakespearean scholar, just like he had intended. That would pinpoint him, wouldn't it? How many black guys have come over from America to study Shakespeare, Rain? It's not going to be that hard to find him, if he's still here, that is. What do you say?"

I shook my head more emphatically. "I don't think so."

"Why not? Don't you want to meet him? Don't you want him to meet you? I would, if it was me."

"What would I say to him if we did find him, Randall? Hi, I'm your daughter, the daughter you never hung around to see, you never cared about? No thanks. I don't need another devastating scene. I've been rejected once, and pretty firmly too, at birth. I couldn't take it again, especially face to face," I said.

"Maybe it wouldn't be like that. Come on, Rain, don't tell me you're not the least bit curious about him."

"I didn't say I wasn't, but..."

"So what harm can it do to find him? After we are sure it's your father, you can decide whether or not you want to meet him and tell him who you are, but first things first. I'd be glad to help you," he said.

"Why?" I smiled at him. "Why is this suddenly so important to you?"

"I don't know." He looked at me. "I want to do it for you. I want to do something ... significant:' he said.

"You are doing something significant, Randall. You're developing a great talent."

"I know, but I'd like to do this too."

"It's not just an amusing way for you to pass some time?" I asked.

"No. It's for you. I want to do something for you. Really, that's the truth," he said.