CHAPTER TEN

SOMEONE UNTIED HIM. Devin got dressed, then he and Rachel made cups of tea for the Coronary Club. Because making nice, he told her when she fluttered, panicking, toward the exit, was the way you persuaded people to keep your secrets. It worked with the media…sometimes.

Rachel approached every individual and earnestly explained all the circumstances. Devin followed with a plate of low-fat oatmeal cookies and some high-octane flirting.

Devin and the ladies had a good time. Rachel and his mom skittered away whenever there was the remotest possibility of Devin being alone with them. But he didn’t own a cowboy hat just because it looked good.

He corralled his first filly when his mom left the safety of the herd to say farewell to one of her cronies. The elevator doors had barely closed on her full-figured friend when he said behind her, “You had sex with someone in my bed?”

Katherine turned on him defensively. “I changed the sheets.”

He’d hoped for a denial. “This isn’t the fifties, Mom. There are STDs to worry about now, AIDS.”

She tried to step past him. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Dev.”

He blocked her escape. “And what about your heart condition? I mean, should you be raising your heart rate like that?”

“Orgasms are very good-”

“Oh, God!” Devin clapped his hands over his ears. His father must be turning in his grave.

Katherine pulled his hands away. “For relieving stress, which in turn reduces blood pressure.” Exasperated, she surveyed him. “I did warn you not to start this conversation.”

“Well, who is it?” he demanded. “I’m assuming there’s only one.”

She considered him. “That’s none of your business, any more than what you do with Rachel is mine.” Her voice softened. “She’s adorable, by the way.”

Rachel came into the foyer at that moment, shawl clutched around her and staring over her shoulder as though fearful of being followed. Devin waited until she was close. “Looking for me?” he asked, and she started guiltily.

“I’ve explained our misunderstanding and accepted total responsibility.” She avoided his gaze by smoothing the fringe on her shawl. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.” Awkwardly, she held a hand out to his mother. “Nice to have met you, Katherine.”

His mom clasped it in both of hers. “And you.”

Devin cut short the pleasantries. “How are you intending to get home?”

“I ordered a taxi.”

“I’ll wait with you. Mom-” his gaze pinned Katherine’s ”-we’ll talk when I come back.”

“Devin…we won’t.” Her tone was equally adamant. “At least not about that. Goodbye, Rachel.” She smiled. “I do hope I’ll see you again.”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near through with her yet,” he promised his mother.

Rachel got twitchy as soon as the elevator door closed. “I’m sorry about earlier.” Despite her calm tone, she kept jabbing at the elevator button to try to make it move faster. “I jumped to-”

Devin backed her into a corner and kissed her.

She broke free, surprised. “Aren’t you mad at-”

He kissed her again. Harder. This time when she came up for air, she was disheveled and breathless.

“It’s probably for the best. You and I aren’t-”

And again. The woman would not shut up. He could feel the moment she stopped thinking “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” and started thinking “why nots” and “maybe.”

Started seeing him as he’d grown to see her-a fascinating world unexplored. This time when he lifted his head that intriguing glow was back in her gray eyes.

Devin let the warmth permeate through to his bones before he stepped back. “We’re even,” he said.

“INSERT THE SIXTH NOTE after the fifth to give your bass pattern a lighter, more upbeat quality…yeah, that’s it.”

Mark tried but he couldn’t sustain concentration past a few bars. “I’m sorry.” Disheartened, he stopped playing. “I guess I’m not feeling it today.”

He watched apprehensively as Devin took off his acoustic guitar and walked out of the living room of his apartment. Miserably, Mark stared down at the view, his bass still hanging from his shoulder strap.

At 11:00 a.m. on a clear summer morning, all Auckland’s landmarks were on display-the Sky Tower, the bridge and Rangitoto, the dormant cone-shaped volcano in the harbor. How many chances would his mentor give him, he wondered, before he wrote him off?

Devin reappeared with a couple of energy drinks and tossed one can to him, before sprawling on the couch. “What’s up? And don’t say keep saying nothing. You know I haven’t got the patience for it.”

Mark hesitated, but he needed a confidant badly. He rolled the cold can against his forehead. “If I tell you, you have to keep it a secret.”

“Scout’s honor.”

He was momentarily diverted. “You were in the Scouts?”

“No, just pledging their honor.”

Mark put down the can and started toying with one of the frets on the guitar. “I thought I’d tracked down my mother yesterday-my real one. Only she wasn’t.”

Devin whistled. “You’re adopted?”

“I only found out a year ago…by accident.”

“That’s rough.” Devin swung himself to a sitting position. “Why didn’t your folks ever tell you?”

Bitterness flooded Mark, as sour as old grapes. “Because my Hamilton birth mother made it a condition of the adoption.” The letter from social welfare had been clinical. ‘Our client has changed her mind about open adoption and is only willing to proceed if you agree to secrecy…’”

“Careful of your guitar, buddy.”

Confused, Mark looked down; he was torturing one of the strings. Handing the bass to Devin, he plunked himself on the throw rug and hugged his knees. “You’re probably thinking, well, why am I looking for her then? But she shouldn’t be able to do that without giving some kind of explanation. I mean, how am I supposed to feel?”

Devin started plucking at the strings of the bass, casual notes that somehow reached in and squeezed Mark’s heart. “You tell me.”

He swallowed. “I just need to know why… I mean, I’m not expecting anything.”

“Are you looking because you want to heal something in you,” asked Devin quietly, “or because you want to hurt her?”

Mark didn’t answer. Another cascade of bittersweet chords; the vise around Mark’s chest tightened.

“Do your parents know you’re doing this?”

“They don’t even know I’ve found out I’m adopted.” He expected Devin to lecture him, but his dark head remained bent over Mark’s guitar. The notes softened, the melody became gently reflective. Mark stirred restlessly. He didn’t want to be soothed. “You don’t think I should do it, do you? Find my birth mother.”

“Would my opinion make a difference?”

“No.”

“Then why,” said Devin mildly, “are we having this conversation?” The tune evolved into an electric version of “Amazing Grace,” languid and hauntingly beautiful.

Mark suffered through the song. He had a sudden intense longing for home, for his parents, for the tranquility of his life before this terrible knowledge had changed everything.

Tears filled his eyes. He blinked hard, but one escaped to trickle slowly down his cheek. Mark froze, reluctant to wipe it away in case he drew Devin’s attention. The salty trail stung his shaving rash-he was still getting the hang of a new razor. At last the tear touched the corner of his mouth. Surreptitiously, he caught it with his tongue.

Devin’s eyes were closed, his fingers sliding over the strings. “It’s okay to have second thoughts, Mark.”

“I’m not.”

His mentor opened his eyes. “Maybe you should take another year or two before you do this.”

“I can’t,” he said impatiently. “The only thing I know about her is that she works at the university. If I wait and she leaves, then I’ll never find her.” He stood and started to pace. “And my parents won’t help me. I already know that without asking. They always do the right thing and keep their word and stuff…and, well-” he hesitated, not wanting to appear soft “-if they learn I’m looking for her, they might get hurt. Which is also why I haven’t told them I found out I’m adopted. Because I have to see her.”