"Is he badly hurt?"

"Badly enough that without more surgeries, he may not walk again."

Dana stopped. "That certainly puts things in perspective."

"You don't know the half," he went on, thinking that Dana liked hearing about his work. "The boy's father-who refuses to acknowledge him-is Stan Hutchinson."

Her eyes widened. "The senator?"

"The senator. And Crystal has no health insurance."

"Huh-uh. There's your case. Does your father know?"

"No." He looked out toward the street. "I can't get myself to call."

"Anger? Pride? Fear?"

"Anger," Hugh said. It wasn't the whole truth, but it would do.

"Anger lingers," she remarked.

"Yes." Hugh continued walking toward the car. "Has Lizzie been okay?"

"Perfect. She's the easiest baby."

"Spoken by one who's had a slew," he teased, and opened Ellie Jo's door. "That's quite a wad of a foot, Ellie Jo. Is it hurting?"

"A little," said Ellie Jo.

"Hugh," Dana called from inside the driver's side. With a knee on the seat, she gestured toward the back. "Have you met Saundra Belisle?"

Hugh extended a hand. "I think I've seen you at the shop." He remembered her. She had a certain authority.

Saundra put her hand in his. "It's my pleasure. Congratulations on the birth of your baby. She's a marvelous little being."

Hugh believed her. Feeling better, he tried to see Lizzie, but couldn't from where he was. He closed Ellie Jo's door, rounded the car, and opened the one by the baby.

"Hey, you," he said softly.

She closed her eyes, shutting him out. Apparently, she hadn't liked the DNA test any more than Dana had. He wished he could make her understand that he was only building their case. He wished he could make Dana understand it, too.

"I have to get Ellie Jo home," Dana said. She was speaking pleasantly enough, but there was little warmth in her eyes. She was angry, still. And the longer the anger lingered, the more it worried him. This wasn't the Dana he knew.

He wanted to talk about it, but this wasn't the time. So he leaned in to kiss Lizzie, then straightened and closed the door. "When will you be home?"

"That depends on what I find at the shop. I have to talk with Olivia and the part-timers to make sure one of us is there every day to open and close."

"One of us?" he asked quietly. "You just had a baby."

"Lizzie loves the shop," Dana said with enthusiasm. "You should see the cradle there, and the women made the most beautiful quilt. The shop is a perfect place for her. It's quiet, and there's always someone around to help."

Hugh could imagine. "Is that a dig?" he whispered.

She didn't deny it. But her eyes did soften. "I have to go, Hugh," she said and slipped into the car.

He closed the door and stood back. She hadn't asked when he would be home, he realized, and wondered if she was preoccupied, or if she just didn't care.

He was well out of the city when he put in a call to his father. He wasn't surprised when his mother answered. She was the gatekeeper while Eaton was at work.

"Hi, Mom."

There was a skipped beat, then a relieved "Hugh." She spoke softly. "I'm glad you had the good sense to call, at least. Your father's been impossible. I've been after him, but he's too stubborn for his own good. How is the baby?"

"She's fine."

"I'd like to get over to see her, but it's difficult with Eaton right here. Do something about this, Hugh. He thinks that you have mortally offended him."

"Me?"

"You said something while we were at the hospital."

"I did? You two stood there suggesting I wasn't Lizzie's father!"

"Eaton was upset."

"Hold it, Mom," he said, because much as he hated attacking his mother, she wasn't innocent in this. "You didn't say he was wrong. What was it you said? 'Stranger things have happened'?"

"Well, they have, but I was just making an observation. Anyway, it's during times like these that we have to stick together. We have to support each other, not refuse to talk."

"Stick together, as in you, me, and Dad against my wife and child?"

"That's not what I mean."

"Do you have a problem with Lizzie's color?" he asked bluntly.

"I don't," she protested. "You know I don't. Wasn't I the first one over at the Parkers' to greet that little grandson who was adopted from Korea? Wasn't I the first to suggest that the hospital auxiliary honor Leila c.u.mmings, one of our brilliant African-American doctors? I was even the first to encourage your Uncle Bradley to set up a college fund for the children of minority employees. How can you call me a bigot?"

"I haven't called you a bigot. But Lizzie is one of us. Why haven't you been over to see her, even without Dad?"

"Because your father is set against my going, because you offended him, and he won't get...off...his...duff until you apologize."

"Fine," Hugh said. "Is he there?"

"Yes," she snapped. "You can be as unpleasant as he is. Hold the phone."

Hugh held. He was in the middle lane of the highway, being pa.s.sed right and left. Had someone honked to speed him up, he might well have made a rude gesture.

A minute pa.s.sed. Clearly, Eaton didn't want to talk. Hugh was beginning to wonder at what point he would simply hang up-when there was a click, then Eaton's voice, all business.

"Yes, Hugh."

Suddenly not quite sure that he wanted to hear what his father would say, he decided to start casually. "What's happening with the book?"

"Not the book. The tour. The publicist just faxed me the schedule to date, and I've been on the phone with her ever since. They have me booked into supermarkets. Supermarkets, for Pete's sake. It used to be that a book tour was a dignified thing."

"Don't you have a say?"

"Yes," Eaton drawled, "but they have the stats on their side. People are buying their books in warehouses. Do the salespeople in those warehouses make personal recommendations? Do the salespeople in those warehouses read?" He grew resigned. "But maybe it's just as well. I don't know about this book. It may have errors."

"What kind of errors?"

"The kind that can derail my career."

"I don't believe that," Hugh said. "You're very careful. Not so your friend Hutch."

Eaton snorted. "Friend?"

"I'm representing a woman whose child he allegedly fathered."

There was a pause, then a cautious "Can she prove it?"

"We're working on that."

"The proof better be good," Eaton warned, "else he'll accuse you of going after him because I was ticked off. What's she want-money?"

Hugh put his palm to the horn when a car cut into his lane immediately in front of him. "Not for herself. The boy was. .h.i.t by a car and has serious needs. She tried to get through to Hutch when the boy was born, but she was told to get in line behind all the other women trying to hit him up with claims."

"Hutch is no altar boy."

"No. None of us is, I guess." It seemed the time. "If I offended you at the hospital, I'm sorry."

There was a scalding "If? Do you doubt it?"

"Dad, I was under pressure," Hugh said, feeling about ten years old. "You said something totally offensive."

"But perhaps not totally off the mark," Eaton countered. "Brad told me you're doing a paternity test. That says you have your own doubts."

"No. It says I was pressured by my family to get solid proof that the baby is mine. A DNA test is the only way I know of doing that."

"So? What'd the lab say?"

"They'll say it's my baby. But I won't have the formal results for another few days."

"And you don't have any doubts, given your next-door neighbor?"

"No more than I have about you living all these years beside a man Mom dated before she started seeing you."

"Now, there's another offensive remark," Eaton charged.

"Dad," Hugh pleaded with a frustrated laugh, "why is it offensive when I say it, and not offensive when you do?"

"I've been married to your mother for more than forty years. And she never had anyone's baby but mine."

It was one too many digs. "Are you sure?" Hugh asked. "You and I look alike, but what about Robert? He doesn't look like you."

"I'm hanging up now," Eaton advised.

"No, don't," Hugh relented. "Please. I really want to talk."

"About who fathered your brother?"

"About why my daughter's color matters. You champion minorities in your books. I champion them in court. Is it all an ego trip? Or do we truly believe in equality? Because if we do, my daughter's skin color shouldn't matter."

"Does it matter to you?"

"Yes," Hugh confessed. "It does, and I don't know why."

"Why do you think?"

"I don't know. If I did, I wouldn't be asking. Maybe it matters to me because it matters to my family. Dana's racial makeup doesn't change who she is."

"Not for you."

"For you?" Hugh asked, and honked long and hard when another car cut him off. "Why should it? She's the woman I've chosen. Would it matter if she's purple?"

"Not to other purple people."

"For G.o.d's sake, Dad."

"I'm sorry, Hugh, but people gravitate to their own. It's a fact of life."

"Lizzie is our own."

"We'll talk about this more once you have the results of that test."

"And if it proves I'm her father?"

"I don't want to discuss this now."

But Hugh did. "What then? Will you accept Lizzie as your legitimate grandchild? Will you accept Dana?"

"Not...now!" Eaton ground out with a sternness Hugh rarely heard. "The timing of this could not be worse. I have too much else on my plate right now."

"Fine," Hugh said, then added lightly, "Okay. Talk soon. Bye."

It was dusk before Dana returned home to find Hugh's car in the driveway. She was glad he was there. Beyond that, though, she was too tired to feel much beside discouragement. After settling Ellie Jo in, she had gone to the foot of the attic ladder, picked up the scattered books, and returned them to their carton. In the process, she had searched each one for something her mother might have left-a letter tucked into the crease or a note in a margin-anything that might give a clue to the ident.i.ty of Dana's father or the name of a roommate or friend. Since these books were from her mother's last months in school, it stood to reason that if Elizabeth had doodled anything pertinent it might be there.

She had continued leafing through the books until Ellie Jo called out needing help to get to the bathroom, which raised a whole other worry. Ellie Jo couldn't stay alone.