“Gabriel Emerson.” He shook her hand awkwardly.
Her eyes filled with tears. “You look just like him.”
“Like whom?”
“Dad.”
Without thinking, Gabriel pulled his hand back.
Kelly managed a smile. “I’m sorry. Please.” She gestured to the empty seat across from hers.
She sat down and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.
“It was just such a shock, seeing you there. You look just like Dad did when he was young. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Thirty-five.”
“I remember being thirty-five. I won’t play coy and make you guess my age. I’m forty-nine.”
Gabriel nodded, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He tried to formulate something to say but found himself at a loss. Mercifully, they were interrupted by the waiter.
They ordered drinks and made small talk until the waiter returned. Then they placed their dinner orders, waiting almost impatiently for the waiter to leave again.
Kelly leaned forward in her chair.
“I’m so pleased to meet you. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
“Not at all.” Gabriel tried to force a smile.
“I owe you an apology.”
His smile disappeared. “For what?”
“As I said in my letter, I should have reached out to you when I learned of your existence. I should have done the right thing rather than worrying about upsetting my mother.”
Gabriel’s hands drifted to his silverware. “That was a long time ago. We don’t need to speak of it.”
“Thank you. I should mention that my mother knew about you but would never discuss you, even after Dad died. She never forgave him for having a mistress.”
Gabriel’s body visibly tightened.
“So you didn’t know about me before?”
“No, but I knew your mother. I’m sorry to hear that she passed away.” Kelly offered a sympathetic look.
“Thank you.” Gabriel straightened in his chair. “She died when I was nine. But the family who adopted me are very good.”
“Michael mentioned that. He told me that our father had kept apprised of you and your doings for years.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“Didn’t you know that?”
“No. We left New York just before my mother died. I didn’t have contact with your father after that.” Gabriel ground his teeth. “Not a phone call, not a letter, nothing.”
“I’m so sorry. I assumed there was some contact between you and Dad, based on what Michael said.” Kelly sipped her wine thoughtfully. “He told me that Dad was aware of the family who adopted you, and that he knew you went to Princeton and Harvard. Apparently, you were a topic of conversation between them over the years.”
“If he was interested enough to discuss my life with his lawyer, why wasn’t he interested enough to pick up the telephone? Or to write a letter?”
Kelly looked down at the tablecloth. “I think I can shed some light on that. Dad was the kind of man who made a decision and stuck to it.” She lifted her face, surveying Gabriel’s body language with concern. “But I’m worried this conversation is upsetting you.”
“I’m here for answers,” he clipped. “I knew they weren’t going to be pleasant.”
“Yes, of course. So you knew Dad?”
“I met him, yes.”
“But you grew up in Pennsylvania, after you left New York?” she prompted.
“I was fortunate that when my mother died, a family connected with the hospital agreed to take me in.”
“And your mother’s family?”
He grimaced and said nothing.
“I don’t mean to pry. But it’s something I wondered. I met your mother a few times, and she seemed to be close to her parents. So I wondered why you didn’t go and live with them.”
“My grandfather died before I was born. My grandmother became estranged with my mother over the circumstances surrounding my conception. When my mother died, my grandmother told social services they couldn’t take me. My adoptive mother contacted my father, but he disowned me. I would have ended up in foster care were it not for the Clarks.” Gabriel’s expression was shuttered.
“I’m so sorry.” Kelly leaned forward in her chair. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”
“You knew my mother?” He swiftly changed the subject.
“She was one of the secretaries in my father’s office. She was young and pretty, and whenever I went to visit my dad, she was always kind to me. I liked her very much. Around the time you were born or maybe shortly thereafter, my parents had a series of fights. And then everything calmed down. But a few years later, my mother left my father and moved in with my grandparents on Long Island. Six months later, my parents reconciled and she moved back to Manhattan. I’m speculating, of course, but I’m guessing the separation had something to do with you. One of the things I overheard my mother yelling about was ‘that child.’ Of course, Audrey and I had no idea who she was talking about. We assumed they were fighting over one of us.”