The woman who sat across from me in the diner kept picking at the stuffing coming out of the booth.

“Coffee?” I offered.

She looked over her shoulder at the waitress approaching the table.

“Yes, I’d like a cup.”

I nodded to the waitress to bring us two cups.

“So, tell me Ms. Martin. Why did you make up this story?”

I wasn’t the kind of man to hold back my emotions or my thoughts. I knew when someone was conning me. And this woman wasn’t taking my son from me.

She slammed her fist on the table and hissed, “My son was kidnapped. I didn’t make it up.”

“Yeah, that part of your story checks out. But why do you think it’s my son? Why did you contact DC police last night? Cameron has been in the system for three years. There is no record of anyone ever trying to contact him, meet him, reach out to him. Nothing.” I glared at her.

She pulled the wool cap over her forehead. “How was I supposed to know he was in DC?”

She had met me on I-95, just south of Fredericksburg. I was surprised no one had spotted me yet.

I leaned back, crossing my arms. I didn’t buy it. None of it. “You’re not that far away. Tell me what it is you want.”

“I want my child,” she seethed.

“Cameron isn’t yours,” I countered.

If Mia knew I was here, she would kill me. But I had to get to the bottom of this myself. The investigator had reluctantly given me the mother’s name: Martha Martin. The rest I did myself with a little web search.

“You don’t know that.” She wasn’t backing down.

We waited while the coffee was served until we resumed our argument. “I know that kid has had a shitty life. He’s been in and out of foster homes. He didn’t have clothes. He wasn’t eating. Shit, he barely spoke a sentence when I met him. But you know what? He’s happy now. And you’re crazy as hell if you think I’m going to let you ruin that with some kind of insane claim.”

She leaned over the table. “You think the courts are going to take your side over mine?”

“It’s not going to get that far. Name your price. I know that’s why you’re really here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t pretend you’re shocked. I know bullshit. Fuck, I invented bullshit. Cameron isn’t your kid. You saw him on TV. You saw the story on how I’m trying to adopt him and you thought you could cash in on that.”

Her eyes darted wildly.

She was caught.

I pulled out a file I had received from the lead investigator and slapped it on the table. “In here is a list of some of your pettier crimes. Check fraud. Shop lifting. I think I saw an attempted breaking and entering. Drugs. So I’m going to put my money on the fact that this was the biggest opportunity you’d ever seen and you thought you could walk away with some serious money.”

“I lost my son three years ago,” she spoke slowly. “How can you say any of this to me?”

I nodded. “I know. I’m sorry about that. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child. But you know what that feels like. So why in God’s name would you try to put me through it?” I sat for a minute before I continued. “I’ll write you a check right now. A huge check. You take it and cash it in the morning and then you call the police and tell them you were mistaken. That you were so emotional you made a mistake.”

I pulled out my checkbook. I wrote in the date and her name on the top line.

“But what if he is mine?” She looked at me.

“Martha, we both know that Cameron isn’t yours.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Martha, where is your son?” I pressed.

She sighed. “I don’t know. Really, I don’t. But I think with his father. Maybe in Florida? That’s where he always said he’d take him. He said I had to sober up.” She started to break down, the fierceness from before diminishing, she knew she’d lost. “Are you going to call the police?”

The woman had a hard face. The kind that told the story of her life. I’d seen the same look on my own mother.

“I’m not going to report you. I’m not even going to consider this extortion. This is a gift from me to you.” I made sure there were lots of zeros on the end before tearing it from the book.

I handed it to her.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice shaky. “Why would you help?”

“Because. I’d do anything in this world for that kid. I haven’t always been like this. I’ve made mistakes. Maybe more mistakes than you. And I’m trying to help you from making any more. Start over, Martha. Start over. Make your son proud of you.”

She teared up and folded the check, tucking it inside her shirt.

“Thank you,” she whispered and then walked out of the diner.

I sat across from the empty booth and finished drinking my coffee.

* * *

When I walked through the door at the loft Mia jumped from the couch. Cameron was asleep with a book across his chest.

“Where have you been?” she questioned me.

“It’s a long story.” I hung up my coat. “But I took care of everything. We don’t have to worry about losing Cameron,” I whispered.

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “What happened?”

I took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom so Cameron couldn’t hear us in case he awakened.

I started to explain how I started my day feeling helpless, but ended up taking control. That’s what I did. I controlled the situation.

“The woman who claimed to be Cameron’s birth mother wasn’t his mother. She won’t be bothering us. She’s dropping the claims.”

Mia’s face turned pale. “Oh my God. How did you find out?”

“I went to see her.” I smirked.

The shock was immediately replaced with anger. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Shit. I thought it would make her happy, but I saw the fury in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up or down or whatever roller coaster this is.” I tried to soothe her. “I knew I could handle it,” I explained.

“You drove to see Cameron’s possible mother and didn’t think I could handle the roller coaster?”

“Ok. Fuck. When you say it like that it sounds shitty. But, baby, I was trying to help. And I did. It’s over. He’s ours.”

“He is not ours.” Her hands flew to her hips. “I’m not on the papers. I’m not even listed for guardianship. And what you did tonight, shows me exactly where you think I fall on the list of people you need to consult. At the bottom.” Her eyes flared.

“God, no. I was trying to take care of you.”

“This isn’t how you do it, Hawk. You don’t just make all the decisions yourself. There’s a child involved. You said we were doing this together. And right now I feel completely alone in this. You went out on your own. You didn’t ask. You didn’t need me. You didn’t want my input.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

Fuck.

“You’re here because he needs you.” I lowered my voice. “You’re here because I need you.”

Her sapphire eyes lifted to mine, cutting me right through the chest. Did she know she could take my breath away with one look?

“You don’t act like you need me. You act like a man who is used to being alone. Who doesn’t know what family looks like.”

I knelt in front of her.

“You’re right. I don’t. I never had a real family. I never had Christmas. I never had someone like you.”

I tilted her chin toward me. “Don’t shut me out now, Mia. Not when we just got our shit together.”

“Isn’t that what you did? Shut me out as if I’m not even here?”

I hung my head. “Damn it. I don’t know what I’m doing. I fucked up ok?”

“Do you see those boxes? The suitcases?” She pointed across the room where she had started moving her things over from her apartment. “I can easily take it back. Take all of it back.”

“Fuck. No,” I growled. “You’re not leaving because I screwed up. I can’t do this without you, baby. I don’t want to.”

“You have to include me. No more decisions about Cameron without me. Understand?”

Damn. She had me by the balls. “Got it.”

I thought I saw a grin tug at the corners of her beautiful lips.

“Cameron’s been asleep for two hours.”

“I’ll carry him upstairs. Don’t move.” I didn’t want the tiny bit of forgiveness to evaporate. I had to capitalize on it while I could.

I walked to the living room where the boy was curled under a blanket. The tree twinkled next to him. I lifted him into my arms and took the stairs two at a time. His eyes opened for a second when I lowered him to the bed. I pulled the covers up to his chin and he rolled on his side.

“Good night, son.” I kissed him on the head, turned off the light, and closed the door.