"That's right."

"But you're leaning," she said.

"Win made a pretty good case for not saying anything."

She made a sound. "Win would."

"Actually he claims to be using his heart."

"If only he had one."

"You don't agree?"

"No," she said. "I don't agree."

"You think I should tell Jeremy?"

"I think first and foremost you should put aside your Batman complex," she said.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you always try a little too hard to be heroic."

"And that's bad?"

"Sometimes it clouds your thinking," she said. "The heroic thing is not always the right thing."

"Jeremy already has a family. He has a mother and a father--"

"He has," Esperanza interrupted, "a lie."

They sat there and stared at each other. The phone, usually so active, was silent, as it had been for too long now. Myron wondered how he could explain it so that she would understand. She stayed still, waiting.

"We were both lucky when it came to parents," Myron said.

"Mine are dead, Myron."

"That's not what I mean," he said. He took a deep breath. "How many days pass that you don't still miss them?"

"None," she said without hesitation.

He nodded. "We were both loved unconditionally and we both loved our parents the same way."

Esperanza's eyes started misting. "So?"

"So--and this was what Win said--isn't that what makes a mother or father? Isn't it about who raised us and loved us and not simply an accident of biology?"

Esperanza leaned back. "Win said that?"

Myron smiled. "He has his moments."

"That he does," she said.

"And think about your father--the one who raised and loved you. What happens to him?"

Her eyes were still misty. "My love for him is strong enough to survive the truth. Isn't yours?"

He tilted back as though the words were jabs at his chin. "Sure," he said. "But it would still hurt him."

"Your father would be hurt?"

"Of course."

"I see," Esperanza said. "So now you're worried about poor Greg Downing?"

"Hardly. You want to hear something awful?"

"Love to."

"When Greg constantly refers to Jeremy as 'my son,' I want to yell out the truth. Right in his smug face. Just to see his reaction. Just to watch his world crumble."

"So much for your Batman complex," Esperanza said.

Myron held out his hands. "I have my moments too," he said.

Esperanza stood and headed for the door.

"Where you going?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said.

He sat back.

"You're blocking," she said. "You know that?"

He nodded slowly.

"When you move past it--and you will--we'll talk about it again. Otherwise, we're wasting our time here, okay?"

"Okay."

"Just don't be stupid."

" 'Don't be stupid,'" he repeated. "Check."

Her departing smile was brief.

Chapter 12.

Myron spent the rest of the day working the phones. He strapped on his Ultra Slim headset and paced the office. He talked up college coaches, mining for potential free agents. He touched base with his clients and listened to their problems, both real and imagined, therapist-style, which was a large part of his job. He sifted through his Rolodex of companies, trying to conjure up a few endorsement deals.