No Fault of Mine

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I groaned. Was Stan using my crisis for his own purposes? Why wouldn't he tell me on the phone? Why take valuable time I could be using to search for my son? I took a deep breath and sighed.

"Trouble?" Liam asked.

"That was Marshal McFadden," I said with a sigh. "He claims he has some information about my son but wouldn't tell me on the phone."

"You sound stressed. Are you okay?"

"It shows?" I touched my face with my hand. "The night I fled Compton Hills, someone tried to run me off the road, Stan or McFadden, whatever, was behind the counter at a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. He helped me. He replaced my damaged brake light with a new one, traded phones in case I was being tracked, and agreed to meet me in Portland to return my phone. He did just that."

"So why the stress?" He asked.

"A drive-by shooting happened while I was with him in Portland, and it shook me to the core. Whatever safety I felt around him was lost in my distrust." I shook my head. I could feel deep within me what I had yet to admit to anyone, even myself. My feelings emerged in words; "I was falling for him, Uncle Liam." My body immediately reacted to my unfiltered confession. I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest, but it didn't help to quell the tears forming in my eyes. I took a quick breath and said, "I don't know if I fell for him as much as I had an aching attraction for him. He seemed genuine, and I trusted him."

"Well, he's a marshal, so I doubt he had anything to do with how they tracked you."

"I didn't know that then, and that's the problem. He lied to me. When he said something about me, he couldn't have known—something I hadn't told him—I was shocked. I confronted him, and he told me he was working undercover. Why couldn't he have told me that from the beginning—at least when he asked to take my phone? That was a moment that required trust, but it turns out I don't even know for certain if Stan is his first name." I wiped a tear off my cheek.

"Have I ever told you how I met Melanie?" I shook my head no. "I was stationed at Naval Base San Diego. Most of the guys would hit the bars in their free time, but several of us found a homemade meal, live music, and dancing sponsored by a volunteer group offering a good place for military personnel. Melanie was one of the volunteers. I danced with her the first night and then looked for her when I had another day off. They said Melanie wasn't scheduled until the following week. I asked if I could book the first and last dance with her, and the lady helping me gave me a wink and said Melanie would get the message. I met her a few times that way and then asked if she'd take a date with me. She hesitated, and I didn't know why, but I was persistent. She came every two weeks, and I booked the first and last dance each time. Eventually, she agreed to the date. We had a wonderful time, but I didn't find out until later that everything she wore on our dates was loaned to her. She didn't want me to know her father was disabled because of a work injury and that her mother was supporting a family of five on her in-home care job."

"That's a Cinderella story, isn't it?" I said, feeling strangely warm.

"I suppose, but the important point is she was embarrassed by her family's poverty. I was in love with the woman I was seeing. She was the person I wanted to spend my life with. Her background didn't matter to me. What I could've seen as a lie has become a sweet memory, one of many in our life together."

"Uncle Liam, you are such a romantic," I said. He smiled, and we fell silent. It seemed his story awakened a memory he wanted to savor for a while.

Liam parked along the curb and waited as I entered the cafe. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the door, and he gave me a thumbs up. How could I not feel at least a little less disappointment and anger?