Blake observed Krista as they returned to their seats. Pink tinted her cheeks, and light brightened her eyes. He shook off his frustration over the blood donation and asked, “What got you excited?”
Krista grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “Honey, your Uncle Jack was based in Clark in the mid-to-late eighties. Da told me.”
Blake blinked, surprised. That was, indeed, important information. Marissa Lopez had spent a single night with an American airman who saved her from would-be rapists. Krista was the result of that sexual encounter.
The officer disappeared in the middle of the night, while Krista’s mother was sleeping in her small apartment where she’d taken him to tend to his wounds. Marissa had looked for her lover when she realized she was pregnant but didn’t find him.
Without access to the base, Krista’s mother had had to wait for John to visit the restaurant where she worked. He never showed, making her think he’d either been deployed, re-assigned, or worse, had been killed in the line of duty. She’d left town before her condition became noticeable. If John was still alive and had returned to Clark, Krista’s mom wouldn’t have known it.
“I also heard Mrs. O’Connor refer to her husband as John.”
Blake had noticed that, too. It held no significance to him, so he’d dismissed it as something intimate shared between husband and wife. To Krista, it meant something else.
“So, Uncle Jack was in the US Air Force, assigned to Clark around the time you were conceived, the two of you have the same blood type, and he is also named John,” he recited the possible evidence. Krista’s hopeful face reflected the inference she’d made. “Are you thinking he might be your biological father?” he asked, allowing his skepticism to show in his voice.
Her forehead creased. “My first thought was your Uncle Jack could know John, might have served with him. But the more I’ve learned, the more I think they could be the same person. My mom is O negative. I could only have gotten the B negative from my birth father.” She shook their joined hands. “Blake, those are the only clues I have. For them to line up so perfectly is more than just a coincidence, don’t you think?”
She’d never indicated a desire to look for her father until now. What little information she’d gathered had Krista reaching the conclusion she desired the most: for Jack to be John. But that would be too easy, too convenient.
As much as he understood her desire to get some answers to questions about her identity and heritage, he wanted her to exercise caution. He feared that her hopes would be dashed, that her heart might be broken.
Looking at his beloved’s face, he couldn’t bring himself to dampen her optimism by airing his doubts. He’d be unhappy if he was responsible for Krista’s misery. He didn’t want their Christmas to be blue.
Blake brought her closer for a hug. “You’re right: it does all align. Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait to get any more concrete proof.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “Do they live far?”
“Who?”
She straightened and peered at him as if she thought her change of subject shouldn’t have confused him. “Ma and Da, where do they stay?”
“They have a brownstone in the Upper West Side. It’s been in Da’s family since his parents arrived in the twenties. I didn’t want to overwhelm you on your first meeting with my parents; that’s why I booked us a room at The Plaza rather than stay with them.”
“Oh. Of course. Thanks.” With a wave of her hand, she accepted his explanation. It paused mid-air as if she’d taken back the dismissal. “Wait, is there something in the house you don’t want me to see?”
Blake groaned. “My mom still has all my childhood mementos displayed all over the place. All of ours, particularly Aidan’s. Mr. Over-Achiever’s medals and trophies could fetch a tidy sum at the pawnshop if our parents ever needed funds.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t want you to be so impressed with all his accolades that you’ll throw me over for him.”
She made a cute face, her nose scrunching up. “Not gonna happen. He won’t pass with my parents. Certainly not with my mom.”
Blake was only joking when he’d said it, but relief filled him at her preference for him over his brother. In the past, he’d always lost to Aidan, whether with girls or competitions.
“I think I’ll keep you even if you only got participation trophies.” Krista winked at him. “Oh, and Maddie would kill me,” she added, her eyes gleaming with humor at the mention of her best friend.
“Why would the lovely Ms. Duvall kill you? Did you scold her for arriving late to a meeting?”
Krista jumped up with a squeal at the unexpected question behind her. Blake stood too, happy that his older brother had finally arrived.
“Aidan. It’s great to see you. How have you been?” Krista accepted a hug, delight in seeing somebody she knew evident in her wide smile.
“Doing fine. Until today.”
Blake could have kicked him for erasing Krista’s good humor. She paled again at the curt reminder of where they were and the reason behind their presence there: Uncle Jack. He stepped closer to Krista and held her hand.
“Did you and Ronan get the scum who put Uncle Jack on the operating table?” He had every confidence in Aidan, a lieutenant colonel in the US Air Force, and their friend, a detective with the New York Police Department. Nobody messed with their family and got away with it.
“Yes.” Disgust laced Aidan’s voice. “We had to double back, but we eventually found him. He was so high, he didn’t get far from the pub. It looked like Uncle Jack got a few licks in before the fucker stabbed him. Sorry, Krista.” He added the last when she visibly winced at the harsh language.
“It’s fine. I’ve heard worse.” She waved dismissively before sitting back down.
Blake smiled at the blatant lie. Growing up in a provincial town far from the big city, with a schoolteacher for an adoptive father, Krista had had a genteel and sheltered upbringing. The worst curse she’d ever said in his presence was “shit,” and even that she’d only uttered under her breath.
“Where’s the perp now?” He inclined his head, signaling his brother to move out of Krista’s hearing.
“At Midtown South. Ronan’s partner made the arrest.”
By the book. He’d thought so. Being the victim’s son, Ronan couldn’t be the arresting officer. “Did he resist?”
“Yeah.”
The unholy glee in the one-word answer told the tale. Jack O’Connor’s son was able to exact a measure of revenge against the man who had stabbed his father. Blake bumped fists with Aidan.
“Speaking of Ro— There he is.” Blake stepped forward to exchange back slaps with his friend. His weary and much-too-lean friend.
“Thanks for being here,” Ronan said. “You didn’t have to come. You couldn’t have gotten more than a couple hours of sleep. Aidan said you only arrived last night.”
“Not a bother. Family comes first.”
“Appreciate it, Blake. Mom and Dad do too, I’m sure.” He scrubbed a hand over his face as if to wipe off the fleeting expression of vulnerability he’d exposed at the mention of his father. “Heard you got yourself caught,” he said after a few seconds of awkward silence.
Blake grinned. “I did. She’s here. I’ll introduce you.”
“For real?” Ronan craned his neck to see around him. Blake turned aside to give him a clear view.
Ronan’s eyebrows met in the middle when he caught sight of Krista. “She’s mixed,” he said without inflection.
If the tone had been insulting, Blake would have taken Ronan to task. As it was merely a statement of fact, he let it go. After all, Ronan was of mixed race, too.
Krista had risen to her feet as she saw them approach. Blake curled his arm around his girlfriend’s waist when he reached her side. She met Ronan’s fixed gaze steadily.
“Krista, I’d like you to meet Ronan O’Connor. Ronan, Krista Lopez.”
Blake watched Krista closely while he made the introduction. Her eyes widened when she heard Ronan’s last name.
“Maganda’ng umaga, Krista. I’m pleased to meet you.” Ronan greeted her “Good morning,” in Filipino. He extended his hand.
Krista’s lips curved, showing her delight in hearing her native language spoken. She accepted Ronan’s handshake graciously. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ronan. I wish the circumstances were better. I’m praying for your dad’s quick recovery.”
Ronan stared at Krista’s face intently before responding with a simple, “Thank you.”
A buzzing sound came from the direction of Ronan’s back pocket. He pulled his hand from Krista’s clasp to reach for it. Without looking at it, he pressed a thumb to silence the vibration. He addressed all three of them but took another lingering look at Krista. “I gotta go. Duty calls. See you at the pub later.”