Chapter 5 - Michael’s First Wife
Natalie chose a quiet café halfway between Chicago and Kenosha.
I recognized her immediately.
Diane kept old family photographs around the house.
Natalie had been in several until I married Michael.
Then they disappeared.
She was thirty-nine now.
Dark hair.
Gray sweater.
No makeup.
No dramatic entrance.
She looked nervous.
I sat across from her.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
She extended her hand.
Then seemed to reconsider.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being part of a secret that should never have involved you.”
At least she understood that much.
I ordered coffee I never touched.
Natalie folded her hands.
“I want you to know something first.”
“I never asked Michael to leave you.”
“I never wanted your marriage.”
“I wanted Lucas to know his father.”
I believed her.
Maybe because she did not perform innocence.
Maybe because she looked as tired as I felt.
“Tell me what happened ten years ago.”
Natalie stared toward the window.
“When I told Michael I was pregnant, he was shocked.”
“But he was happy.”
“For about three days.”
“Then Diane arrived.”
Apparently, Diane had always hated Natalie.
Wrong family.
Wrong career.
Wrong personality.
Natalie had been a teacher.
Diane wanted Michael married to someone who helped the family’s image.
When Natalie became pregnant during a difficult period in the marriage, Diane turned suspicion into certainty.
“She told Michael I was cheating.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
“Did he ask?”
“He accused.”
That difference mattered.
Natalie explained that after Lucas was born, Diane volunteered to arrange the paternity test.
Michael agreed.
Natalie did not.
She wanted the testing performed together at a hospital.
Diane claimed she could arrange something faster.
A week later, Michael appeared at Natalie’s apartment carrying a report.
“Negative,” Natalie said.
“He threw it onto my table.”
“He told me I had destroyed him.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you get another test?”
“I tried.”
“Michael refused.”
“I had no money for lawyers.”
“My parents were helping me keep a roof over our heads.”
“Then Michael filed for divorce.”
She looked down.
“I left Illinois.”
I thought about the man I had married.
Kind.
Patient.
Conflict-avoidant.
All the qualities I once considered gentle suddenly looked different.
Sometimes avoiding conflict meant forcing someone else to carry it.
“When did you discover the report was fake?”
Natalie reached into her bag.
“Last year.”
She slid a photocopy across the table.
The laboratory named on the report had confirmed there was no record of Lucas ever being tested there.
I stared at the document.
“Did Diane forge this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Michael says she gave it to him.”
“She did.”
Natalie hesitated.
“But Claire, there’s something Michael hasn’t told you.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“His father never believed Diane.”
“Thomas?”
Natalie nodded.
“He came to see Lucas when Lucas was six months old.”
I froze.
Michael had told me his father knew nothing about the pregnancy.
Natalie reached into her bag again.
This time, she placed an old envelope in front of me.
Inside was a photograph.
Thomas Bennett held a baby boy against his chest.
On the back, in his handwriting, were seven words.
May you like
My grandson.
I’ll make this right someday.
