"I'll help you. We'll find him."
"How?" he asked, sounding desperate.
"Logan said they were on the way to a friend of the family's house. That was why they were in Virginia. Did she have any friends who lived in Virginia?"
"No, not that I know of," he answered.
"Sarah? Does that name mean anything to you? When I was with Connor, he said he was going to see Sarah."
"Heather's best friend's name was Sarah. She lived in New York though...or at least, she used to. Her last name was Weaver."
"Maybe she moved?" I suggested.
"Maybe. But how would I find her now?"
"Hotshot, you have heard of Facebook, right?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mmm, yes, I've heard of it, but I don't have an account."
"What? Yes, you do. I see you post all the time."
"That's a fan page. My publicist runs it. I do not have a Facebook page on purpose. It's too easy to track me, and I would prefer to remain a bit of a mystery," he said, giving a slight smile. "So, you could find her on Facebook?"
"Yes, I think we could, assuming she has an account. Want me to look?"
He nodded, and we spent the next half an hour, thanks to the Wi-Fi on the plane, stalking Sarah Weaver on Facebook. I started off by looking up Heather, and I found her with the help of Declan. Her account was pretty well secured, only showing a small photo of her, but her friend list was still accessible. We went through it and found a Sarah Keane who lived in Williamsburg, Virginia. From there, it was as simple as looking Sarah up on Google.
"You found him," Declan said, completely astonished.
"Assuming he's still there."
"He's there. They were best friends, and Heather didn't have any other family. I don't see Heather leaving him with anyone else," he said.
I knew he was trying not to be angry with Heather because of the fact that eight years had gone by and she'd never once bothered to let him know that he had a child.
"It's okay," I said. "We'll make it right. He'll know you now."
He agreed, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, he rested his head on my chest, closed his eyes, and slept.
~Declan~
We arrived home early. It was one of the perks of taking a red-eye. Of course, my body had no idea what time it was, considering the time change and the fact that I hadn't slept more than a few hours since the night of the premiere. Stepping off the plane in Virginia, I felt like I was coming home. Even though my home, the one I owned, was in California, Virginia felt like my real home now. Leah was here, and there was no other place I wanted to be. It turns out that someone else was here, and I needed to find him —as soon as possible.
Father, dad, daddy, papa —none of those words registered in my brain. For now, he was a child I was connected to, but I still didn't feel like anyone's father. A million thoughts raced through my head as we made our way out of the airport and onto the interstate. Williamsburg was less than an hour from the airport, so I had very little time to gather my thoughts. It was like trying to pluck bits of dust scattering through the air. They were everywhere and fanning out in a million directions.
Did Heather tell him anything about me? Did he know my name? What if he hated me already? Worse, what if I didn't exist at all? Was I ready to be a father? Did I want to be? If he was living with Sarah and her new husband, he should stay there...right? That was what Heather had wanted. But what about what I wanted? What did I want?
Fuck.
Thank God Leah was driving. I didn't think I saw any of the scenery the entire way there. It was just endless trees passing by in a blur. Leaving L.A. a day early had given us an entire twenty-four hours of free time. Neither Leah nor I had to work, and rather than wait and try to put this off, we'd thought it would be better for both of us to just go now while we had the time and the courage. I needed to know if that child was my son, and I needed answers that I was hoping Sarah could give me.
The crunching gravel pulled me out of my trance, and I looked up to find us in the driveway of a Colonial brick house. It looked new, but the architecture was fitting of the historical town and surroundings. It was well kept with a porch swing and potted plants, and it looked like the perfect place to raise a child. I suddenly felt like an intruder. The boy had just lost his mother. He was probably adjusting to a new life, and here I was, about to screw that all up.
What was I doing? I shouldn't be here.
I turned to Leah to see her eyes were on me. She was trying to appraise the situation. Apparently, my freak-out was evident.
"I can't do this, Leah. I can't do this to him."
"Declan..."
I didn't respond. My head went to my knees, and I felt like my lungs were caving in. This was too much, too real. I was an epic f**k-up. No one deserved a father like me. Jesus, Leah's face was plastered everywhere this morning from one night out in Hollywood with me. What would happen when the papers found out I had a secret child? It could destroy a kid.
"Declan, look at me," Leah said firmly, causing me to turn my gaze upward. "You need to calm the f**k down. You're starting to hyperventilate. I know this is hard. I know it's a lot, but I'm here, okay? We're in this together, and whatever happens, you owe it to yourself and that little boy to get out of this car and try. Do you understand?"
She squeezed my hand, and I felt my pulse begin to slow. Her touch always calmed my nerves.
"God, I love you."
She smiled, and we eventually made our way out of the car and down the long walkway. Leah knocked on the door. It was a weekday and just past noon. If anyone were home, it wouldn't include Connor. Leah and I had figured it would be best this way, talking to Sarah first, rather than showing up, unannounced, with Connor in the house.
A few seconds passed by before a familiar brunette opened the door. It took her a minute, but the recognition appeared, and she pulled me into a tight hug.
"Declan, it's so good to see you!"
"You, too, Beanpole. How are you?"
"I hate that nickname! And as you can see, I'm not quite a beanpole anymore!" she said, wiggling her hips as she led us inside.
"No." I laughed. "You look great, Sarah."
"Turns out having a baby will work wonders on a figure if you have none."
"Congratulations are in order, I guess," I said warmly.
"Thank you. Her name is April, and she's ten months. She's down for a nap, but she should be up soon." Sarah smiled and then motioned for us to sit down in the family room. It was large and filled with baby stuff —a rocker, swing, toys.