On A Night Like This (The Callaways) by Freethy Barbara

Author:Freethy, Barbara [Freethy, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Fog City Publishing LLC
Published: 2012-12-09T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Aiden walked around the block, then added another and another, finally ending up back in his driveway, torn between going to his room and going next door. Emma's comment about Sara going back to New York had stuck with him. He didn't want her to leave without saying goodbye, either. Actually, he didn't want her to leave at all, but her home was on the other side of the country. Their lives were in different states. He should leave her alone.

Five minutes later he rang her doorbell. Her rental car was out front, but she didn't answer. He rang the bell again. Maybe he'd missed her, and she'd gone next door while he was walking off his frustration. He was about to leave when the door opened.

He stared at her in shock. Her brown hair was tangled and messy, her eyes and nose were red and swollen. She looked devastated.

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

She stared back at him, her lips trembling.

"Sara, talk to me." He grabbed hold of her hands. They were ice cold.

"They lied," she said.

"Who lied?"

"My parents. My mother and father lived a big, fat lie."

He was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll show you," she said, pulling her hands away from his. She turned and headed upstairs.

He shut the door and followed her up to her room.

On her bed were at least twenty or thirty photographs. They'd obviously come from the box she'd found in the basement.

She searched through the pictures, found the one she was looking for and held it up. "Look at this. What do you see?"

"Your parents and you."

"No, that's not me, that's another baby. And look at my dad," she added. "Have you ever seen him smile like that?'

"No, but I don’t think I'm someone he would smile at."

"Neither am I. Only this child was worth a smile."

"Who is this baby? I don't understand what you're talking about."

"I'm sorry. Wasn't I clear? This is my brother, Aiden, my older brother, the child my parents never told me about, the son my father always wanted. He was even named after my dad, Stephen Jr."

His amazement grew with each word. "That's impossible. You would have known. Someone would have known. Someone would have said something."

"Someone like my mother, who I thought I was really close to? That kind of someone?"

"Sara," he breathed, seeing a tremendous amount of pain in her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"There's a name on one of the pictures," she said wearily, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I did an Internet search and found birth records. I also found an obituary for a four-year-old. He was born six years before me. I don't know how he died. I don't know why his existence was kept from me, kept from everyone." She paused, tilting her head. "Do you think your parents knew?"

"I – I don't know. You didn't move here until you were…"

"Nine," she said. "Of course your parents didn't know. It all happened long before we moved here."

"I don't know what to say.

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