Eternally Yours (24 page)

“Excuse me,” he interrupted the two men. “I’m trying to follow the two of you here.” He turned to the senator. “Are you saying that report I gave you from the investigator indicates you’re Syneda Walters’s father?”

“After reading it, one would assume that, yes.”

“But you’re not?”

“No, I’m not.”

Braxter shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone assume you’re her father if you aren’t?”

The senator went over to the window and looked out. He could see the Lincoln Monument in the distance even in the dusk of night. He turned back to Braxter. “Most people thought Syneda’s mother, Jan Walters, and I dated exclusively during our senior year of college.”

“But that wasn’t the case?”

“No. We just wanted people to think that we did.”

A look of ungoverned confusion shone in Braxter’s eyes. “Why?”

Sadness shone in the senator’s gaze. “Because society wasn’t ready to accept what they considered as forbidden love.”

When Braxter looked even more confused, Clayton decided to intercede by asking him, “Have you ever heard the term ‘jungle fever’?”

“Yes, of course.” Braxter stared first at Clayton then back at the senator when understanding dawned. He paused for a moment before finally asking, “And just who is Syneda Walters’s father?”

The senator hesitated briefly before saying quietly, “Syntel Tremain Remington.”

Braxter was shocked into silence. “S. T. Remington of Remington Oil?” His voice was filled with disbelief.

“Yes, and I need to talk to Syntel as soon as possible. He knows nothing about any of this. The shock may be too much for him. Arrange a flight that will take me to Austin tonight.”

“I’m going with you,” Clayton spoke up.

“I think this is something he needs to hear from me personally.”

“I agree, but I intend to be there when he hears it. Like I said earlier, there are a number of questions that I want answered. My main concern is Syneda and how she’s going to handle all of this. For years she assumed her father abandoned her. Now from what I understand that’s not the case. I want to know if he knew his father had intercepted a phone call meant for him and paid the caller good money not to give Syntel’s name to the authorities as Syneda’s father.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yes. We were able to find the woman, and she told us everything. She even admitted taking the money.”

The senator shook his head. “He will never forgive his father for that. He loved Jan deeply.”

At that moment there was a soft knock on the door.

“Yes, come in,” the senator called out.

The door to the senator’s office swung open and Celeste walked in.

“What are you doing here?” Braxter snapped. He was both surprised and upset to see her. His chest heaved with outrage at the sight of her. “Who gave security the approval to let you in here?”

Celeste nodded to the other two men in the room before answering Braxter. “I deliver travel packages to occupants of this building all the time. Security is used to seeing me.”

“What do you want?”

She placed the packet on the desk. “I came to give you this and to say I’m sorry. I hope one day you’ll forgive me for what I did.” She turned to leave.

“Excuse me, miss,” Clayton said, putting together what was transpiring between the two individuals. “Who hired you to get information on Senator Lansing?”

Celeste turned back around. She remembered Clayton from the party at Whispering Pines. She bit her lower lip. It had taken every scrap of courage for her to come here tonight to make amends. But she had to come. She had to do the right thing.

Her gaze left Clayton, then went to the senator, before finally coming to rest on Braxter. She knew he hated her and would never forgive her. The piercing dark eyes staring back at her did not show any signs of forgiveness.

She knew at that moment why she hadn’t been able to go through with passing the report on to Senator Harris. She had fallen in love with Braxter. Her eyes closed momentarily, shielding his angry glare from her. When she reopened them, she shifted her gaze back to Clayton. “The person who hired me is Senator John Harris.”

She then turned and quickly walked out of Senator Lansing’s office.

“A
re you sure he’s going to be here?” Clayton asked as he and Senator Lansing stepped into the elevator of an elegant apartment building near downtown Austin.

“I’m pretty positive,” Senator Lansing replied, keying a special code into the elevator door panel box. “During the week, Syntel stays here instead of commuting back and forth to the ranch. And he seldom goes out in the evenings.”

Clayton nodded. Since discovering Syntel Remington was Syneda’s father, he had begun searching his mind for whatever personal information he knew about him. It was a known fact that he had never married. He also remembered reading somewhere that he had taken over the running of Remington Oil fifteen years ago, upon his father’s death.

Clayton’s thoughts came to an end when the elevator door opened and they stepped into a plushly carpeted hallway and walked toward the only door on the floor.

The door was opened on the second knock. A surprised expression lit Syntel Remington’s face. He moved aside to let the two men enter. “Ned, I didn’t know you were in Austin.” He then turned questioning eyes to Clayton. “Madaris, this is a pleasant surprise.”

For the first time since meeting him over a year ago, Clayton looked deeply into Syntel Remington’s eyes. They were eyes so much like Syneda’s in color and shape that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed them before. But then he hadn’t been aware that the man standing before him was her father. He also noticed that Syntel and Syneda shared similar smiles and the same well-defined features.

“I just arrived in Austin less than an hour ago,” Senator Lansing said. “I flew in from Washington. We both did. There’s an important matter we need to discuss with you, Syntel.”

Syntel Remington’s brow lifted. “This sounds serious, Ned.”

“Trust me, it is.”

“Let’s go into the study. I was just about to settle down and get some reading done.”

He led them to a brightly lit room where bookcases lined both sides. He gestured for them to take a seat. He then took a seat behind a large oak desk.

“All right, Ned, what is it? What’s so important to send you racing to my door from Washington with one of Texas’s most dynamic attorneys in tow?” he asked, managing a wobbly smile. He was confused and concerned with the expression his best friend wore.

The room fell silent, and a few moments later Senator Lansing spoke. “It’s about Jan.”

Syntel Remington’s eyes suddenly became distant and pained. “What about Janeda?”

The senator’s lips lifted in a faint smile. Janeda had disliked her birth name and in college she had shortened it to Jan. No one got away with calling her Janeda. No one except Syntel.

Syntel Remington stood, crossing his arms like a protective shield. Clayton couldn’t help but note it was something Syneda did occasionally.

“Ned, I asked you, what about Janeda?”

The room fell silent once more and before Senator Lansing could respond Syntel spoke again. “All right, I think I get it now. If the two of you are here to warn me that you’ve gotten wind that one of those slick and sleazy tabloids have somehow dug up information about my relationship with Janeda and plan to print it, don’t concern yourselves with it. I will never deny ever loving her. You should know that, Ned.”

Nedwyn Lansing nodded. “Yes, I know, Syntel, but that’s not it. That’s not why we’re here. There’s something else, something you should know. And I think you should sit back down before hearing it.”

Syntel looked for a moment like he wasn’t going to take the senator’s suggestion, but then he took his seat again. “What is it, Ned?”

“Jan had a child. Your child.”

Clayton watched the color drain from the man’s face with Senator Lansing’s words.

“What did you say?” Syntel’s lips barely moved when he asked the question.

Senator Lansing forced himself to respond calmly. “I said Jan had a child. Your child. A girl.”

Syntel jumped up out of his seat, nearly knocking a plant off his desk in the process. His face was filled with rage. “Who told you that lie, Ned? How could you believe such a thing?”

“It’s true, Syntel. I checked it out myself. If you remember, Jan disappeared right after you’d left for the Air Force Academy. I think she did it because she knew she was pregnant.”

“If what you say is true, why wouldn’t she have told me? She knew I loved her. There was nothing I would not have done for her.”

“I think she knew that, and that’s the reason she left without telling you. She didn’t see a place for her in your life. You and I know that society would never have accepted a marriage between the two of you. At least not back then. She knew it, too, and left.”

Syntel slumped back down in his chair. He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe Janeda would give our child away.”

“She didn’t give the child away. She raised your child alone as a single parent until her death.”

Syntel’s head snapped up. “Are you saying I have a child somewhere? A daughter?”

“Yes. She was ten years old when Jan died.”

Syntel shook his head as if dazed with disbelief. “What happened to her?”

“Because the authorities assumed she didn’t have any living relatives after Jan died, she became a ward of this state and was placed in a foster home.”

“No!”

Clayton watched as Syntel Remington’s entire body jerked as if it had been struck. His face filled with rage. “Are you saying my child was raised by strangers?”

Clayton spoke for the first time. “That was the only recourse under the circumstances. But I can tell you that the Phillipses were good people and she was treated very well.”

Syntel looked at Clayton as if he had forgotten he was there. His shoulders slumped. “So no one knew I was her father?”

With a sigh of resignation, Senator Lansing stood, knowing he had to tell his friend the rest of the story. During the flight from D.C. to Austin, Clayton had told him everything, including his investigator’s personal interview with Clara Boyd. It had been a case of downright deceit and betrayal by Syntel’s father.

“That’s not true, Syntel. There were two others who knew you were the child’s father. When Jan knew she was dying, she told someone she thought she could trust to contact you. In fact, she died believing you were contacted and were coming for your child. She even told your daughter you would be coming for her.”

He wiped a film of perspiration from his forehead before continuing. “However, instead of getting you, the person who’d made the call for Jan spoke to your father instead. And…”

“And what?”

“Your father made the decision not to pass the information on to you and to make sure your name was never connected to Jan’s child. Clayton hired an investigator who has located the woman. She admits receiving money from your father in payment for not revealing your identity to the Children’s Services Department.”

Syntel raked his fingers through his tousled hair. The expression on his face was pained, disbelieving, enraged. “That can’t be true,” he said in a strained voice choked with deep emotion. “My father would not have been that cruel, that heartless, that hateful. He would not have turned his back on his own grandchild, my child, my own flesh and blood,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. But looking at the sympathy in his best friend’s eyes and Clayton’s, he knew deep down his father had done just that.

“Where is she? Oh, God, please tell me you know where she is now.”

Clayton stood and faced the man. He had to swallow in an attempt to remove the lump in his throat. “She lives in New York.”

“New York?”

“Yes.” Pulling his wallet from his pants pocket Clayton took out a picture he’d had taken of Syneda when they had visited Atlanta. As she smiled for the camera, her sea-green eyes shone brightly, her golden-bronze hair flowed about her shoulders and highlighted her light brown complexion.

“This is your daughter, Syntel, the woman I love and plan to marry in June.”

A wry smile touched Clayton’s lips as he realized something. “I often wondered about the origin of her name since it’s unusual. Now I know where it came from. Janeda was thinking of you when she named your daughter. It’s a combination of both your names. However, her middle name is all yours. The woman in this picture is Syneda Tremain Walters.” He handed the picture to Syntel.

Syntel nervously accepted the photograph Clayton handed to him. There was complete silence in the room as he looked at it. His eyes began filling with tears. Suddenly the only sounds in the room were the sounds of Syntel Remington’s heartwrenching sobs.

After Nedwyn and Clayton had left, Syntel Remington sat slumped down in a chair. A spasm of pain flitted across his face when he thought of what his father had done.

Janeda had given him a daughter, and in the end she had believed in their love enough to want him to know about their child, to want him to take care of her, even when they had not seen each other in ten years.

But she had known that his love for her would have survived the test of time and that he would want their child, and that he would take care of her. Janeda had died believing in him.

He couldn’t help but remember the last night he and Janeda had spent together. He was to report to the Air Force Academy the day after graduation. The Vietnam War was on everyone’s mind, and it had been the main thing on his that night. Maybe if it hadn’t been, he would have paid more attention to her mood and the words she had spoken to him. And maybe he would have sensed some sort of a change in her, and noted that something was bothering her.

She had been the joy of his life, his true love. To him the color of their skin had never made a difference. But to her it had. She’d always been afraid of what others would think about it. Interracial relationships had not been accepted during that time, and that was the reason Ned had been used as their go-between and their cover.

Syntel hadn’t cared what others thought, and he had told her that countless times. His love for her was the only thing that mattered to him. But because she had cared, he had respected her wishes.

He closed his eyes remembering that night, their last one together, the night before graduation. They had just made love and he’d been holding her in his arms, never wanting to let her go…

Janeda snuggled closer to him. “We’re so different,” she said, looking deep into his eyes.

He smiled down at her. “No, we aren’t. You just got a better tan than I do,” he said jokingly.

She smiled back at him, then suddenly her expression became serious. “I’m afraid.”

He pulled her closer. “Don’t be. Everything’s going to work out all right. I’ll have six weeks at the academy and then I’ll come back for you. It’s not certain that I’ll be sent overseas, but if I do, we’ll get married before I go. You’re the most important person in my life. I want to tell my parents about us so that if you need anything while I’m gone you can contact them.”

“No. Please don’t tell them anything, at least not yet. I’ll be all right. Just be careful, and always know that I love you. No matter where you go or what you do, just believe that I love you, and will love you forever.”

He pulled her closer into his arms. “And I love you. I always will. I will make you my wife one day, and I don’t care who may not like it as long as I have you….”

Syntel opened his eyes. He had been at the academy only a couple of days when Ned had contacted him that Janeda had moved out of her apartment and hadn’t told anyone where she’d headed. He had almost gone out of his mind with worry, and when days passed with no word from her, he’d almost gone crazy. The only thing that had gotten him through his days at the academy was the belief that sooner or later she would contact him.

She never did.

He was sent to Vietnam directly from the academy. His father had tried to stop the order but had soon discovered that the Remington name hadn’t meant a thing to Uncle Sam.

Janeda never contacted him and when he returned to the States nearly twenty-four months later, he had tried finding her but couldn’t. He’d tried forgetting her but had been unsuccessful in that attempt, too. Years later, he’d hired an investigator who had concluded his report within weeks. Janeda had died of a bad case of acute pneumonia at the age of thirty while living in Dallas, Texas. The report had not mentioned anything about the fact that she had been survived by a child. His child.

The lump in his throat seemed to grow larger. He stood and walked to the window and looked out into the darkness. He had a daughter. A twenty-eight-year-old daughter that he hadn’t known about until tonight.

His child…Janeda’s child…their child.

Syneda Tremain Walters.

Syneda recognized the smell of spaghetti the moment she entered her apartment. A broad smile covered her face.

Clayton was here!

She called out to him and moments later he walked out of the kitchen and swept her into his arms, kissing her with a need that she returned. Finally she lifted her head after he had placed her back on her feet. “What are you doing here?”