His Unexpected Family

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Authors: Patricia Johns
Tags: Fiction, Religious
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water over the tea bag into the teapot, his mind moving over the case in his methodical way. The victim was young, college educated, but alienated from her family. She had a baby that no one knew about. She was on her way back to the town where the majority of her extended family lived when she had a head-on collision and was killed. She appeared to be distraught. She had a will where she left sole custody of her newborn baby to a cousin she hadn’t spoken to in five or six years. There were a lot of gaps. Why did no one know about this baby?
    “Well,” Emily said as he poured her a cup of tea, “I have a feeling that you’ll dig up some answers.”
    “Are you sure you want that?” Greg asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Sometimes the answers we look for don’t bring the comfort we think they should.”
    Emily was silent for a moment, her eyes clouding in thought. “It’s better to know, isn’t it?”
    “I tend to think so,” he agreed. “I don’t like surprises. I’m the kind of guy who likes to know what to expect.”
    “That makes two of us.” She gave him a smile and lifted a spoonful of ice cream in a salute. “Here’s to playing it safe.”
    Greg couldn’t help but grin. Emily looked over at a pile of mail on the counter, and she stretched to reach it.
    “I’ve been forgetting things,” she admitted, shaking her head. “It’s the lack of sleep. I put this here this afternoon and—” she looked up at the clock on the wall “—seven hours later I look at it?”
    Greg tried to hide a smile as she sorted through the pile of letters. She stopped, the muscles around her eyes and jaw tightening.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    She tore open the envelope and grabbed the letter. Glancing over it, she let out a sigh. “Well, it looks like I have a court date.”
    “For the custody case?” Would it be too much to hope she had driven like a maniac past a traffic camera?
    “Yes. I have three weeks.”
    That wasn’t much time at all, but it was something. In three weeks, hopefully he’d be able to find a little more information for her about her cousin.
    “That’s plenty.” Greg gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
    He just wished she looked more reassured.

Chapter Eight
    T he next afternoon, Greg got a call from Fran, a nurse at his mother’s home, saying she was the most alert they’d seen her in weeks. His spirits immediately lifted. It had been so long since his mother had recognized him that the chance of being able to look into her face and have her see her son instead of a stranger was an exciting one. Making sure he was out of uniform first, he hopped into his car and headed down to the Shady Pines Nursing Home.
    It was a squat building consisting of two wings. Fran stood there with a couple of other nurses, chatting while they filled out charts. She was a large lady in her fifties. Her dark-skinned face looked almost ageless, but her hands betrayed the years. When she saw Greg step inside, squinting from the bright sunlight, she raised a hand and hurried over.
    “Thanks for calling, Fran.”
    “My pleasure. Go on over. You know where she is.” Fran gave him a motherly pat on the arm. She had a son his age, and she tended to treat him like one of her own brood, a gesture that Greg privately appreciated.
    As he made his way down the hallway, his shoes squeaked on the newly polished linoleum. His mother’s room was in the center of the west wing, a cozy little room with a pleasant view of the walking path many of the children used to get home from school. When he got to her door, he tapped softly and peeked inside.
    “Hello?” His mother looked up at him, frowning. Her gray hair was freshly washed and combed, and she stood there, a small watering pot in hand, poised over her row of potted flowers on the windowsill.
    “Hi.” He could hear the hope in his voice, but he was afraid to alarm her.
    She looked at him quizzically for a long moment, then set down her watering pot.

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