In a narrow drawer where Leland had kept a multi-tool and some cleaning rods, I’d discovered the envelope taped to the inside top of the drawer.

Eli shook his head in disgust. “Wonder if he kept anything else, more stuff he didn’t want us to know about?”

The bitterness in his voice told me he still hadn’t forgiven Leland. For a lot of things.

“Does it matter anymore?” I asked.

Eli picked up his wineglass and drank, his eyes clouded and his mood darker than it had been before we started this. He was Leland’s son and the eldest child. Leland, who had never wanted his children to call him Dad or Daddy or Papa, hadn’t done any of the father/son things with Eli that would have forged a bond between them, brought them close together, never taught him practical things like how to tie a tie properly or throw a football, never passed on knowledge that would have smoothed a rocky adolescence. Instead he let Eli fend for himself, tag along with other boys whose dads coached their Little League teams or were the Scoutmasters or took them to D.C. to watch the Nationals or the Capitals or the Wizards play.

Then a few months ago, my supposedly innocuous DNA test had led to the discovery of another son Leland had fathered. What we didn’t know and might never know, since David’s birth mother didn’t want to have anything to do with the child she gave up for adoption, was whether Leland had known about David. Eli said for David’s sake he hoped Leland never had a clue. Ignorance would be preferable to not caring, being abandoned.

“I suppose none of it matters now,” Eli said and my heart ached for him because I knew he was lying and it did matter.

I touched his arm. “Why don’t I call Seth Hannah tomorrow and make an appointment to stop by Blue Ridge Federal and see what this is all about? I’ll let you know what happens, okay?”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Nah, you’ve got clients and work to do. It’s quiet at the vineyard so I’ll go.”

“I’m still for letting sleeping dogs lie, Luce. But you and I are different that way. You’re more like Mom. You wear that same suit of armor she wore. She managed to put up with all of Leland’s crap and still be an amazing, loving mother. I don’t know how she did it. So go ahead and find out.”

I nodded because I couldn’t speak.

He gave me a one-armed brother hug and dropped a kiss on top of my head, something he almost never did.