Think Twice

Myron nodded. “Sounds like you put your ‘physical gifts’ to work in a much more meaningful way than me or... or your father.”

Jeremy smiled. “Your father,” he repeated. “You really dug deep for that one, Myron.”

Myron shrugged, also smiled. “Trying.”

“I appreciate that.”

“So while I’m digging deep,” Myron began.

Jeremy looked up.

“We never talked about what it was like for you,” Myron said. “Finding out about me.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“You’re not my dad. I mean you might be my father. But you’re not my dad.”

“Okay, that one time. When you first found out. But you were thirteen.”

“It’s a little late now.”

“Is it?”

“I said all I wanted to say. Look, Myron, you did nothing wrong. Well, okay, hold up, you clearly did something wrong, you and Mom, but as she’s pointed out to me ad nauseam, that mistake made me. It was a long time ago. Can we just move on now?”

“Yeah, sure.” And then Myron realized that he couldn’t turn back. Not now. “But I have a favor to ask.”

Something in Myron’s tone made Jeremy pause. He put down the sandwich. “Okay.”

“It’s not a favor exactly. I’m not sure what it is.”

“You’re kinda scaring me, Myron.”

“It’s not scary. It’s the opposite of scary.”

“Myron.”

“You wanted to keep your paternity private out of respect for Greg. I got that. And I always respected that.”

“And now?”

“Now your grandparents — your biological grandparents — are getting old. Your grandmother is not well. And today your grandfather...” Myron stopped.

“My grandfather what?”

Damn eyes welling up. He blinked.

“Myron?”

“I want to tell them, Jeremy. About you. And I want you to meet them.”

Jeremy took a second. Then he said, “It’s a hell of a time to ask.”

“I know.”

“With my father in jail.”

“I know. I didn’t plan on asking.”

Jeremy looked off again. Myron gave him the space. After some time had passed, Jeremy said, “Can we talk about it when I get back?”

“Of course. Yeah. No pressure.”

Chapter Thirty

Esperanza read from the tablet on her lap.

“So the only names PT actually said were Tracy Keating and Robert Lestrano?”

They sat in Win’s parlor, all three ensconced in the burgundy leather armchairs.

Esperanza looked up at Myron and sighed. “What?”

“When was the last time the three of us were here like this?”

“Last month,” Esperanza said. “Ema’s birthday party. Your nephew was here.”

“I don’t mean for a party. I mean, just the three of us.” Myron motioned with his arms. “Like this.”

Esperanza shook her head. “You’re such a wuss.” She turned to Win and held up the snifter of cognac. “This is pretty good stuff.”

“Remy Louis XIII Black Pearl Grande Champagne Cognac,” Win said.

“You say so.”

Win frowned. “Myron?”

“Uh-hmm.”

“It’s gauche to check prices on your phone.”

Myron stopped typing. “Is the bottle more expensive than a car?”

Win considered that. “Not my car.”

Touché.

“Can we get back to this?” Esperanza asked. “Hector comes home tonight.”

“Where is he?”

“Down in Florida with his father.”

Esperanza split custody fifty-fifty with her son’s father.

“How old is Hector now?” Win asked. “Nine, ten?”

“He’s fifteen, Win.”

Win considered that. “Nothing ages you faster than someone else’s child.”

“Deep,” Esperanza said with the slightest hint of sarcasm. All three of them favored a pinch of sarcasm in their voice, but none could deliver the full potpourri of sarcasm’s spices and herbs like Esperanza. She was a sarcasm savant. “Speaking of sons, how’s it going with Jeremy?”

“It is what it is,” Myron said. Then: “I told him I want him to meet my folks.”

“Good,” Esperanza said. “He should have them in his life.”

“He’s also not stationed overseas anymore.”

Win arched an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where then?”

“It’s classified.”

Win didn’t like that. “But somewhere in the United States?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Can we get back to this?” Esperanza asked. “Like I said, I have to get home.”

“Of course.” Win put the snifter down and stood. “Do you need the large screen?”

“It would be helpful.”

Win approached what appeared to be a bronze bust of Shakespeare on the marble fireplace mantel but was, in fact, a prop used in the 1960s Batman television series. Bruce Wayne (Batman) or Dick Grayson (Robin) would tilt the head of Shakespeare’s bust back, revealing a hidden switch. Once the switch was hit, the bookcase behind the Caped Crusaders would slide open and reveal two poles (one pole said “DICK,” one pole said “BRUCE,” as though they might forget which pole was whose) and then Bruce Wayne, played by the brilliant Adam West, would exclaim, “To the Batpoles!”

Like the famed Caped Crusader before him, Win now tilted back the Shakespeare head, flicked the switch, and voilà, the bookcase slid to one side. Instead of Batpoles, there was a large flat-screen television mounted to the wall. Blackout curtains automatically lowered over the windows, converting Win’s parlor into a man cave — styled theater room — albeit one serving Remy Louis XIII Black Pearl Grande Champagne Cognac.