Claws For Concern

I heard the note of pride in his voice when he mentioned his branch of the service. My father had served in the Marines in World War II, and he, too, had always been proud of that.

I nodded before I turned my attention back to the birth certificate. I found the parents’ names and ages. Sylvia Delaney, age twenty-five, and Delbert Collins, age thirty. I had no idea when Uncle Del was born, though I knew he was a few years older than Aunt Dottie. She would have been eighty-eight this year.

The certificate looked legitimate. At the moment I had to accept it at face value. “Thank you for showing it to me.” I handed the paper back to Delaney.

Delaney nodded. He folded his certificate and placed it in a pocket in his bag. “Can you tell me anything about him? I haven’t been able to find out much in the newspapers here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a lot to tell you,” I said, “but I’m happy to share what I can. You see, he died when I was about nine or ten. My memories of him are pretty hazy.”

“Whatever you can remember is surely more than I know now,” Delaney said.

I could feel the sadness in him, and I suddenly imagined myself in his place. How would I feel if I had never known my father? I figured I, too, would want to know as much as I could, especially if he weren’t around for me to meet and talk to in person.

“He was an invalid,” I said. “Frankly, I don’t know exactly what the problem was, other than supposedly a weak heart. I remember that when I went to visit them, Uncle Del was usually in his room resting. I wasn’t supposed to make any loud noises that might startle or upset him.” I smiled briefly. “For me that wasn’t a problem, because my aunt had lots of books. I spent most of my visits with her reading.”

“He didn’t have a job?” Delaney frowned.

I shook my head. “Not that I ever knew. I was always told he was too sick to work. Aunt Dottie worked, though, and took care of him. She had help, of course. They always had a housekeeper who would look after him while my aunt was at work.”

In the back of my mind I was having cynical thoughts. I wondered whether Delaney was angling to find out if Uncle Del had had any money. Was he hoping for an inheritance of some kind? If he was, he was bound to be disappointed. Aunt Dottie earned all the money and paid all the expenses, including the mortgage. The house was in her name, which was unusual for the time. After Uncle Del died, she invested money and invested wisely. She became moderately wealthy because of her own hard work and good business sense. She left everything to me. Bill Delaney had no viable claim on her estate.

Even if he wasn’t angling for money, I knew he did want to know more about his father. That I could do something about. Aunt Dottie had kept photograph albums over the years, and there were probably numerous pictures of Uncle Del. There might also be some mementos of him that she had kept. I had several boxes of her things stowed away in a closet. Azalea could help me go through them to see whether there was anything that belonged to Uncle Del. I would be happy for Bill Delaney to have such things.

“How would you like to come to my house for dinner tomorrow evening? I imagine there are pictures of your father in my aunt’s photo albums, and you’re welcome to some of them, if you’d like to have them.” I decided not to mention the possibility of personal items because I didn’t want him to end up disappointed should there prove to be none.

Delaney’s face lit briefly with a smile. “That’s mighty kind of you. I’ll take you up on the offer of dinner, too. It’ll be real nice to have a meal with someone for a change.”

“I’m glad you can come,” I said. “How about six? Will that time work for you?”

“That’ll be fine,” Delaney replied. “I have the address.”

“Do you need a ride?” I asked. “I’d be happy to pick you up and take you home again afterward.”

“I thank you, but I’ll find my way there,” Delaney said. “No need to put you to any extra trouble.” He picked up his bag and stood.

“Okay, but the offer’s still on the table if you change your mind.” I got to my feet since it was evident he was ready to go.

Delaney smiled briefly. “See you tomorrow evening.”

Diesel came from behind the desk and warbled loudly as if he were adding his invitation to mine. Delaney reached out with a hesitant hand and touched the cat’s head. When Diesel warbled again, he stroked the cat briefly. Then Delaney ducked his head in a gesture of farewell and walked out of the office.

“We don’t have much time left for lunch, boy,” I told the cat. “We’d better eat. Is that okay with you?”

Diesel answered with two loud, assertive meows. I laughed as I retrieved our lunch from the fridge in the staff kitchen. Diesel accompanied me there and back again to the desk. I fed him bites of boiled chicken while I ate my sandwich and a banana.