The Secret Son. Tara Quinn Taylor

was almost surprised to find her there. There’d been so many people in and out of her room, checking on her over the past day, that she’d long since tuned them out.

      “Look, Senator, you can see your son’s hair,” the doctor said in the middle of the next push.

      Yes. Kevin was Jefferson’s son.

      And no man could have been more supportive or proud or loving when Kevin Jefferson Cooley put in his appearance twenty minutes later. With the baby resting on her stomach, Erica watched through blurry eyes as Jefferson cut the umbilical cord. And then he gently placed her son in her shaking arms.

      Erica, fatigue forgotten, laughed, stared at her baby, fell in love.

      And silently, secretly, cried for Jack.

      July 1999

      SWEATING, STILL WEARING her in-line skating gear, Erica leaned against a tree in the park a couple of blocks from their condo and watched, unnoticed, as her husband and son romped in the grass just a few yards away. She could hardly believe Jefferson was still at it, patiently tossing the foam baseball to the miniature foam mitt resting precariously on the two-year-old’s right hand. The fact that even after she’d skated a solid hour, Kevin was still attempting to stay on his feet and catch that ball didn’t surprise her a bit.