”“There are more ways for that to happen than direct intervention by the parent.”Beth said, “They are nice.”“Mine.”“Is that the only w...rd you know?” asked Beth confused by the singular response to every thing she said.“No.”Beth stood with her hands on her hips, mimicking the same position her mother used when she was upset about something. Disturbed, she grabbed John by the hand and led him to the table where her parents were seated. For a minute she looked from Kelly to Ed with concentrated. It was a picture of my mother as a baby, taken in 1926. The black and white photograph did not show the hair color and the dark blonde of my mother looked almost black. Suddenly I was not looking at my mother but at Ronnie. The eyes and the smile were strikingly similar and my heart leaped in this moment. I knew how much infants change in the early weeks and months but from this moment on I was convinced that Lillian's assumptions were wrong: I was Ronnie's biological father.Thinking it would. More

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