A/N: As always, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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His attorney finally got the negotiation with Angela and her attorney scheduled about three weeks later. He had no desire to do this in person, but Angela refused to deal unless he was there in person. She probably hoped to rely on some form of manipulation to get him to concede to her demands. Fine. She could do whatever she had planned; he would still adhere to the terms his attorney drew up. He reminded himself that he wasn't beholden to her manipulations anymore. She wanted a few extra dollars a month, and getting rid of her was worth so much more than that.

Though, this impacted his family in ways he hoped to avoid. While Teresa accepted his truth, Jimmy had not. That made the remainder of his visit rather icy-which was a shame because they had really connected prior to that. He was hoping that he could form a good relationship with more of Teresa's family. That was important for both of them, but he could see where Jimmy was coming from: he couldn't stand to see his sister hurt. It just hurt that Jimmy refused to hear him out or believe that he would never let that happen.

On that note, he didn't want Teresa anywhere near this negotiation, or Angela. He tried to convince her that he didn't need her on hand for the meeting today because it was mostly logistics—his attorney had drawn up terms and hers had as well—but she insisted.

"You're my husband, and I will be there to support you."

He kissed her on the side of the head. As much as he appreciated her support, he didn't know if the kind of stress Angela could bring was good for her right now, especially after the last time Angela confronted Teresa.

After the third try, he knew his options were to either slip out when Teresa wasn't paying attention and deal with the fallout, or bring her along. As much as he didn't want Angela near Teresa, he didn't want to deal with any fallout, especially something that made it seem like he didn't want her support. He valued her love and support. She meant more to him than any amount of money, which is why he would give Angela money to leave them the hell alone. Otherwise, he might try fighting her.

That morning, they got Annie settled with her sitter before going to his attorney's office.

"Teresa?"

"Yeah?"

"I appreciate you coming along, but I want you to know that Angela will try to push your buttons. Anything she says is meant to push you toward anger and self-doubt."

She reached for his hand and flashed him a grin that was somewhat off. Her grin was usually soft. This one was not. Was this already impacting her? Maybe he should have handled the fallout by leaving her behind.

"Patrick, you have no reason to be nervous. I know how she is. I will be fine. I'm here for you, baby."

Her grin turned to a smile, and for the first time that day, he flashed one of his own. He hated that Angela still touched anything related to his life. Beyond the automated payments that went from his account to hers every month, he had no business with her.

Despite his worries on the drive to the attorney's office, it didn't take him long to realize those worries were misplaced.

In the hall, Angela glared at him and made no attempts to conceal her glares at Teresa. She had been looking her up and down since they arrived with eyes that held both jealousy and rage. The rage part he understood, the jealousy he did not. After all, Angela was the one who discarded him.

With their attorneys, they settled into the conference room.

Angela exhaled loudly as they took their seats. "What's she doing here?"

He sighed. They needed ground rules because she wasn't going to disrespect his wife like this. "She's…"

Teresa interrupted him, putting her hand out. "I'm here to support my husband."

"This doesn't involve you. Dismiss your little puppy, Paddy, or I'm walking. I'll see you in court."

Before he could even respond, Teresa was on it. "See, that's where you've miscalculated this little scheme. This definitely involves me. After all, this is a matter of the family. You are attempting to insert yourself into mine."

"No, I'm asking Paddy to fulfill his responsibilities to me and our child."

Teresa grinned that same off kilter grin as she had in the car, her voice shifting. "Yes, so let's talk about that.

Her demeanor was very cool and calm. It was like the time he watched her interrogate a murder suspect, like she was laying a trap. He had no idea where this was headed.

She shifted in her chair a bit before continuing. "You're asking for child support?"

"That's why we are here, isn't it, doll? Paddy, you can do better than this weak little mind. I hope you know that."

Unphased by the obvious taunt, Teresa continued in her questioning. "So that means you want Patrick to assume what you consider to be his parental responsibilities?"

"Of course. Daniel is his son."

Teresa rubbed her baby bump a few times as she locked eyes with Angela. Was she putting on a show for her? "Okay. So it seems to me that parental responsibilities are beyond money. A lot of care goes into raising a child."

"You would know. You have him assuming responsibility for an older kid and now another one. It seems like you set a nice trap."

"Well, I think kids deserve to be surrounded by loving parents, don't you?" Again, Teresa deflected the taunt. He was impressed.

"Of course. Is there a point to all of this?"

"Sure there is. If Patrick—my husband—has parental responsibilities to your Daniel, he will fulfill them. Because he's a good man, he would never leave a child alone to flounder in the world. And that's exactly why if you proceed with these child support claims, we will be filing for full custody of Daniel."

Angela's face went pale, as he whiplashed to face Teresa. From the gleam in those green eyes as she locked in on Angela's reaction like a predator on prey, he could tell she had hit her mark. This was what she was working at.

"You can't do that! Ronnie, tell her she can't do that!"

"Oh, but we can. See, if Patrick is Daniel's father, he also has custody rights. And at this rate, I think we can provide a steady home for him more than a mother who can't seem to figure out how to make money unless it involves scheming against her ex-husband and trying to drain pennies from him. The choice is yours. My home is always open to Daniel. I love children, and I'm sure he will love being near his sisters. I can't wait to teach him so many things. You know, I had three younger brothers."

Angela spluttered. "You bitch! You aren't taking my son from me! Ronnie, tell them they can't do that!"

His own attorney actually cleared his throat, wiping the crooked grin from his face. "Actually, he can. If you proceed with establishing this paternity claim, your child support claim comes with custody rights."

Angela looked to his attorney and then her own, who nodded in affirmation at her. Meanwhile, he remained speechless. He never imagined this to be Teresa's play—or that she even had a play at all. Angela had been trying to bait her. Yet, she caught Angela.

Angela tried to control her emotions, but they were written all over her face. There was no way that mask was going back into place. She had not expected any real challenges to her plan. Teresa actually fucking caught her.

"You have no right to my son!"

Teresa leaned forward slightly, speaking in a sharp, icy voice. "Then, here's what you're going to do. You're going to drop this bullshit claim. In doing so, you will be paying all attorney's fees Patrick has incurred in this matter. If not, we will take you to court where I can't promise I won't encourage Patrick to seek to reassess your alimony payments. Frankly, it's insulting that he even has to pay you a penny. I can be quite persuasive—not just with Patrick. I do well with judges, too. Finally, you are going to leave my family alone. I am tired of you. My husband is a decent, honest man…"

"Decent and honest? Turning over a new leaf, Paddy?" She was grasping at straws and trying to reclaim the high ground, but Teresa wasn't letting up.

"Like I said, my husband is a decent, honest man. You've been clear on your thoughts on the matter. Here are mine: you will not continue to poke your head into our lives when you want money. Get a job, or hell, if it suits you better, get a new mark. I don't care which. Leave us the fuck alone—or else we're gonna get real cozy as a blended family. And I can't wait to see you at birthdays, holidays, school plays, and every other event. It's up to you."

Angela stared at her with wide eyes before she shot up from her chair, running from the room. "Fine!"

Teresa sat back in her chair quietly with a smile on her face. He was both impressed and a bit scared.

Teresa looked at him. "You wanna get a bear claw on the way home?"

"Yeah. Sure." How was she even real? He took her hand, pulling her up and holding onto her to the car.

He was silent for the car ride to their favorite bakery, mostly marveling at her and replaying what happened.

As she sipped her decaf coffee and worked on her pastry, he watched her in awe until she finally spoke.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

"That was…incredible…what you did back there."

She shrugged. "Forgive me, but I was tired of her. She's not as cunning as she thinks, and she's rather boring."

"I get that, but the whole custody thing…"

"Oh, I was bluffing about that. I wasn't going to take her kid from her. That's just cruel. She just wanted money and clearly hadn't thought it out. Besides, the way she sees it: she has already lost to me once. She doesn't want to have to keep competing with me. I just presented her options to her."

What he registered as Angela being jealous finally hit him. She must have known why Teresa was there. Teresa had shown up to protect him-not his assets, not to save face with her family-nothing but to protect him. On top of the stress of dealing with yet another settlement with Angela, he'd spent the last few weeks afraid this might stress his wife out. Yet, she showed up and threw up a successful fight to protect him. No one had ever done that for him before, but if Teresa were to be the first, that was no surprise at all.

He reached up and brushed a few strands of her hair off her shoulder. "She has never lost to you because you are so far out of her league. There's no competition there. I hope you know that."

She blushed. "Actually, I do know that. I also know that not every problem needs money thrown at it. Sometimes, a good reality check works, too."

"Yeah, that was good. It was very...efficient."

She tilted her head and smirked at him. "And very hot? Did that turn you on, Mr. Jane?"

"Admittedly, a little bit. I was just more in awe of the strength of my wife and her faith that I'm a good man."

"Because you are. I don't want to over-inflate your ego, but you may even be the best."

He grinned. "That wouldn't be too far. I love hearing what my green eyed girl has to say about me."

"If I said I love you, would that surprise you?"

"I've heard it before, but I'm not sure I can hear it enough from you."

She smiled at that. "I love you, my blue eyed boy."

"And I love you, too."

He was glad his wife showed up for him in a display of love and protection, but he couldn't forget what else he saw today. Whether she knew it or not, Agent Lisbon was back…if she'd ever gone anywhere.

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On Sunday, they chose to stay in bed. Annie was spending a few days with the Hightowers. While he missed her, he loved having this bit of time alone with Teresa.

She was snuggled into his side as Miss Congeniality played. He had lost count of how many times they'd watched this movie together…and how many times Teresa just started quoting it.

"You really love this movie, don't you?"

"It's a classic, babe."

"Is that your way of telling me you want to be an undercover beauty queen? Because I will support you. I'll crown you right now."

"I bet you would."

She smiled as she slowly reached over, softly placing her right hand on his lower belly. Physical therapy was working, slowly but surely. With every step of progress she made, she was determined to keep getting stronger with that arm. But that was Teresa: strong.

She groaned suddenly, igniting a bit of panic within him. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I think the baby is hungry."

"Little Charlotte has a healthy appetite. What sounds good?"

"I don't know. Waffles?"

"That's easy enough. I'll go get…" She pressed down on his lower belly, not very forcefully, but it was enough to stop him. "What?"

"I want to do it."

"Do what?"

"Make us breakfast."

Her arm was improving, but he tried to keep up on all household tasks so she didn't overwork it. He quickly mulled over the ways that he could convince her to stay here, but she wouldn't take well if she thought he was babying her.

"Okay. Are you sure? It's not a problem, and you're watching your movie."

"It's a DVD of a movie I've seen many times—as you've pointed out. I know you're worried about my arm, which is why I was going to suggest that maybe you let me gather the ingredients and maybe you help me mix?"

She gave him that sweet look, and he could never tell that face no.

"Sure."

He hopped up and extended his hand to her. She grinned at him before taking it, allowing him to pull her up and into his arms for a kiss.

She leaned out, and he used the opportunity to push her wild bed hair behind her ears.

"I wasn't kidding about being hungry."

"I know, but I just wanted to remind you of how special you are to me, Teresa Jane."

"I know."

He feigned hurt. "That's all you have to say?"

Scrunching her nose, she shrugged. "Help me feed your child before we both starve and maybe I'll have more to say about you."

They headed to the kitchen hand in hand. As promised, he let her gather the ingredients and prepare them. Though, when it was time to mix things he prompted her to take the electric mixer in her own hand. Covering her hand with his own, and wrapping his other arm around her bump as she used her left hand to hold the bowl, he turned it on. Making sure the brunt of the mixer's impact went to his hand. She turned and smiled at him, indicating that she liked being a part of this process. As always, they worked well as a team.

Remembering they had the house to themselves and seizing the moment, they held and peppered kisses on each other as their waffles cooked. He'd been sure to avoid her neck since that day at the hospital, but almost on impulse, he started kissing her neck to nibble on her ear just like they'd done many times.

When he realized what he was doing, he stopped. All he could see was the skin that she had rubbed so raw in the hospital. He never asked why she didn't; he didn't want to know.

"I think your waffle is almost done."

She averted her gaze before she took his hand. "I know that you know. It's okay. Really. Please don't stop."

He cursed himself. The small break in her voice…

"I didn't mean anything by it, baby. I just…I didn't want to do something that might hurt you." Coward.

"He...licked my neck. I scrubbed him off of me at the hospital. I'm fine."

"Of course."

"Your touch has never bothered me."

"Are you sure it's okay?"

"I would tell you if it wasn't."

With her left hand, she slowly guided his head back to her neck. He nibbled on her ear, but when he reached her lips once more, she held his head in place.

With the beeping of the waffle maker, she pulled back and bit her lip. "Now, it's done."

He had no idea how she could be so sexy, so titillating like this in their most mundane moments. He made sure she was situated before getting started on his own waffle.

They were mostly quiet as they ate until she spoke up. "Do you ever wonder what your mom would think about this?"

That was random. "'My mom?"

"Yeah. You know, what would she think about grandkids?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She took off way before she could ever think of getting a grandkid from me. She didn't care about me. I doubt she'd care about Annie or Charlotte."

Teresa frowned and sat her glass of milk down. "You don't know that."

"Well, she's not here is she?"

"No, but I mean you don't know that she didn't care about you."

"She left on my birthday. She never said goodbye. It seems pretty clear to me."

"Patrick, leaving a child—one that you've spent years raising—can't be an easy decision. You don't know why she left."

He sighed in exasperation. He didn't really want to talk about this. He'd rather look ahead to the future than worry about people who couldn't be bothered to care about him. He had everything he needed right here.

"What is this about?"

"I'm curious. You don't care where your mom is or hearing her reasons?"

"No, I don't. She took off and never came back. That told me what I needed to know."

"Ok, but I don't think that's true."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"Because I am a mother, and I know what it's like to lose a mother. It's not easy to leave…"

"Please! That's exactly how we got Annie!"

"And I know that couldn't have been easy on Melanie."

"Because you're a mother?"

"Yes."

He reached for her hand. "Baby, that's because you're a good mother. You want to be a mother. They didn't."

"But you don't know that!"

"Okay."

"I also know what it was like to lose my mother. Things were different then, Patrick. My dad was such an asshole that he wouldn't even let my mom see her own brother. Maybe if she lived longer, she would've left him, but then? Maybe she could have left, maybe she couldn't have. Maybe something happened with your mom."

He wanted to respond to that with how wrong she was to even assume that when she didn't know her or the situation. Only, that would be a lie. He'd spent enough time with his dad over the years to know his mother had more than enough reason to leave him—but why did she leave her son?

"My dad was an asshole, too. He was teaching me to run scams by the time I was in second grade. He used me to con people out of their money. By the time I was a teen he'd pressure me to do the big cons and reel in big fish. Do you know the kind of humanity you lose by lying to a dying child's face, basically selling them snake oil, to try to get a sliver of your father's approval?"

She was stunned into silence. He'd never shared many details of his childhood with her. He didn't fear her rejection as much as he did her judgment. She'd never approve of the things he did.

"No, I don't. But you were a child."

"A child whose mom left him with the tools a master manipulator needed to make money. See how it comes back to that? Mom left."

She shook her head. "What do you mean she left you with tools?"

"She was the psychic—well, she was good at pretending to be a psychic. I was around her enough to pick up those skills. It's just basic reading that you've seen me do a bunch of times."

"Yeah, but if he treated you that way, he could have done the same to her."

It was an obvious truth that he'd never thought of before. He was only angry and lost in his own feelings of abandonment, but surely, he wasn't the first "psychic" his dad used to his benefit. But that still didn't answer the major question here.

"But why would she leave me behind? She still made a choice to leave me."

"I don't know. Maybe she couldn't take you with her. I'm sure she had her reasons."

"Maybe she did."

Suddenly, a lot of old feelings rushed back to him. He had dreams of his mother and who she might be. Who was she? Would she be proud of the life he made? Love being with her family?

Lost in thought, he felt Teresa's hand squeeze his. "You know, she's the only one who can actually answer these questions. I know how much pride you take in us and what we have, but I also don't believe you're completely fine with never knowing. It's not too late to try to find her…if that's what you want."

"Maybe she could answer those questions, but she still left me, Teresa."

"I know, but a lot of things can be true at once."

"They can be, but why focus on the past when I have such a good present and an even better future?"

"Because your future will never be able to answer those questions. Besides, if one of the girls' grandparents are still alive…"

"I doubt she would be interested."

"You don't know that. If it were me…"

"It would never be you."

"I would want to meet my grandkids."

"You wish your mom were here to meet her grandkids."

Noticing the sadness that appeared in her eyes, he realized that he spoke before I thought it through. Closing his eyes, he wished he hadn't. Even if this were more about her lost mother than his, he shouldn't throw it in her face like that.

"I do wish my mom were here to meet Annie, Stan, and Charlotte. She would love her grandkids. I wish she were here to share recipes and ideas for things that come up at home, or maybe even be in the delivery room with me when Charlotte is born."

"Yeah, but would you be here today if she were still here?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'd like to think that we're fated and would have always met, if that's what you mean."

"Well, it is a bit what I mean. Do you think you'd be the same person though?" Sometimes, he thought about how different things might have been if his mother were around. Would he have left the carnival?

"I don't know. It's possible I could be totally different. I've never thought much about what could be with my mom. She's dead, Patrick. I don't have the same window of opportunity as you."

He didn't respond, and they left it there. She faced the death of her mother, while he faced abandonment. The results were similar, but the impact was not. She had a finality with memories and lessons about life. He had a rather good picture of who Annabeth Lisbon was, through the eyes of her family. Indeed, her mother probably would not have chosen to die that day, but his chose to leave that day. What lessons did she leave him? How not to be? She could have done so much differently, but she didn't.

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Over the next few days, the questions started running through his mind more often. Why did she leave? Was she still alive? Would she want to meet her grandkids? Should he hear her reasons if she wanted to make amends? He thought of Annie that day in the park as she worked through her own questions. He wanted to seem so sophisticated and above it because he put it behind him, but was he? Just because he worked not to let it define him, that didn't mean that sometimes he didn't wonder about why it was so easy for his mom to walk away.

The following week, watching Teresa and Annie having a tea party in the backyard, he smiled. He didn't join because it was an activity that Annie invited Teresa to do, so he wanted to give them space. Though, it didn't take him long to be lost in a memory of his own.

"Paddy, what are you doing up?"

"I was hungry, and I couldn't sleep." Of course he was hungry. All they had to eat that day was a can of beans.

His mother frowned before reaching for his hand and pulling her onto the couch in their airstream with her. She always gave him the bed. "I'm sorry, my sweet boy. I will work harder to get more food tomorrow. We will have a feast! Tell mama what you want to have at our feast."

"I don't know. Cheeseburgers!"

"Okay, cheeseburgers, and what else?"

"Green beans!"

She laughed at that. "Green beans? With your cheeseburger?"

"Yeah! And french fries."

"Okay, Paddy. Tomorrow, we will have cheeseburgers, and green beans, and French fries!"

They were giggling when his father came in. "What the hell is he still doing up?"

"He was hungry, and he couldn't sleep."

His father scoffed. "Well, get off your lazy ass and feed him."

"Thomas, I did feed him. I fed him the beans. It's all we had left."

"And that's my fault? I told you what you needed to do. You didn't do it, so the kid didn't eat. He'll learn to live with disappointment."

"Yeah, of having you for his father."

The next thing he remembered, he was being dragged out of bed. His father had reached over him, grabbed his mother's hair, and pulled her out of bed. She was trying to get away from him.

"Dad!"

"Be quiet, boy. Here's a lesson for you to learn. If you don't want to be hungry, you learn to earn your damn keep. Your mother is a failure. She doesn't want you. Look at how bad she takes care of you."

"Let me go!"

"I told you we needed money! Didn't I tell you that?"

"I won't make money like that! I won't use people! You said you would get work!"

"You're lazy and worthless!" He shoved her back toward the couch. "You wanted the kid so bad and you won't even take care of him."

He jumped into her arms and buried his head into her chest.

"Fucking pathetic. Just like your mother."

They didn't see his father again that night.

But they did have their feast. Cheeseburgers, french fries, and green beans the next day like she promised. She put down a blanket in the grass, and they watched the carnival goers while she told him some story that he couldn't really remember. He barely paid attention as he ate until his belly was full. It was a magical day for a young boy. Yet, the memory of "she doesn't want you" took hold over the memory of what she did for him that day.

But as he got older, even now, he realized other things about that day. While he ate his way to a stomach ache, she barely touched her food. He wondered how much that had to do with what happened in her psychic tent that day. He'd sat under the table and listened as she told customer after customer that she could tell them more, but only for a little more money-until his father brought an older man into the tent.

"Patricia…"

"No, Thomas."

He hissed. "You will do this."

It was silent after that. She was gone. When she came back some time later, she was rather somber with a look of guilt on her face, the same look she wore through their little feast. Being on this side of things now, he understood a bit better that sometimes, there was a bit of guilt that came with not being able to give the people you love everything they needed and deserved.

"Daddy!" Annie was leaning over the arm of his chair.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Just wondering what you're doing. Do you want to come to my tea party?"

"No, I thought the tea party was for you and mommy."

"It is, but you look sad. I don't want you to be sad."

"I'm not sad. Just thinking about something."

"You shouldn't think about things that make you sad. You should think about the things that make you happy!"

That was the problem, though, wasn't it? Sometimes, the sad was mixed with the happy in ways we couldn't foresee or understand.

The next week, he called a private investigator.

Two days later, they found Patricia McDonald, living in Las Vegas with her husband and three kids.

His mouth was dry as the private investigator read the details to him. It was like he always thought. She went off and started a new life-and from the sound of it, a better one. Her husband was a dentist. She had three kids-all of whom were college age now. The PI sent him a family photo from a local newspaper. The two girls with light brown hair and the boy with blonde hair-and the light blue eyes they all shared-looked happy.

When Teresa got into bed that night, he was looking at his phone. "What's that?"

He was quick enough at closing the photo. Instead of making up some story about an old acquaintance, he opted for telling her the truth. She sat patiently as he told her what he learned.

"Did you get her number?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Do you think you should call her?"

He shrugged. "Why? It's what I always suspected. She went off and found a new life with a happy family. Why would I want to be a kink in that?"

"You still don't know anything. If you actually want to know, you have to talk to her."

He sighed in exasperation. "Do you know what it feels like to see this? She got married to a dentist and had three beautiful children. Half-siblings who she probably thinks should never be around her loser first born. One of these girls is in med school. I'm sure the others are on track for something similar. I'm basically a common grifter."

"You're a car salesman-and a very respectable one at that. And that's a profession, not who you are. You're a good man with a tender, kind soul who loves his family with his entire heart."

"Even before she knew what I would be, she knew they were all somehow better than I was."

This was all a mistake. His eyes felt wet as Teresa reached for him. "Not better than you, and you won't know the truth until you ask. Or not. It's up to you. I will support you, but Patrick Jane, don't you ever think that you are anything less than a good man whose family loves him."

"I won't."

That night, Teresa held him as he cried. But she was right. He knew what he had to do. The next day, he dialed the number the PI left him.

"Hello?" It was softer than he remembered it, but that was her accent.

"Hi, is this Patricia?" He was never a big fan of asking questions you knew the answer to, but he was afraid his voice would fail him.

"This is Patricia. Who am I speaking to?"

"Um...this is Patrick."

He left it there. Maybe she had forgotten all about him and the call was pointless. At least he could save some face there.

After a heavy pause, she spoke again with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Paddy?"

"Yeah, it's me. Patrick Jane."

"Oh my God. Paddy. It's really you."

"I got your number from a private investigator. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"No, no. You're not bothering me. I am surprised you called me."

"Why is that?" They'd been separated for 27 years, so that was probably related to her shock.

"Well, I didn't think you would ever want to speak to me again."

He didn't know how to respond to that with anything other than the truth. "I didn't either until someone I trust with my life told me that maybe I should call."

"Oh. Do...do you need money?"

He closed his eyes and scoffed. "Not now. Maybe 20 years ago. I just called to tell you I'm alive. I don't need anything from you. I did pretty well taking care of myself!"

He hadn't meant to respond with such a bite in his voice. How could she think he wanted anything from her? "I didn't mean to upset you, but I wasn't sure why you reached out. I didn't think you wanted to speak to me."

"What?"

"When I came back to get you...you said that you never wanted to see me again."

"What? You never came back to get me."

"I did. A few months after I left, I came back. I met my husband at the carnival, and we married in Vegas. I was afraid to say anything at first, but he figured out something was wrong. I finally told him that I had a son. He brought me down to the circuit to get you, but you refused to come out of the trailer. You said you hated me and never wanted to see me again."

He combed through his memories. "That never happened!"

"Patrick, my husband drove me down there. I bought you a new baseball glove because you always loved baseball, and Paul-your stepfather-wanted to teach you to play. You refused to come out and talk to me."

Baseball glove? "No."

"It's okay. You were young. I understood that you didn't want to come, but I hoped over the years that you would see my cards."

"Cards?"

"Yes, your birthday cards. I sent them every year! I also sent you money for a bus ticket on your 18th birthday for whenever you were ready for a visit."

It's like they were having two separate conversations. He never got any birthday cards from her, and he was gone by his 17th birthday. The baseball glove! He slammed his eyes shut. This was all making sense now.

"When did you come for me?"

"Like I said, it was about a few months after I left. The circuit hit Sacramento, and Paul brought me down. You were young and may not remember. I shouldn't have left you for any amount of time. You were so small, but you were also adminant about staying with your father. I get that sometimes boys just want to be with their fathers, but I hoped over the years we could reconnect."

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with emotion. She never left him.

"I don't remember because it didn't happen. Or well, I wasn't there. I never made that trip to Sacramento. I had stayed with one of the local vendors in that town where you left. I was convinced you'd come back for me, so I wouldn't move on for months. I went to school there for a bit waiting for you to come back."

"I don't understand. You…"

"I wasn't there. The baseball glove though...dad gave me that for Christmas. First and only Christmas present he ever gave me."

She inhaled sharply. "But...you...your cards? Did you get your cards?"

"I never got a single card, and I was gone before my 18th birthday, so I would have never gotten that money for the bus ticket."

"I don't...did he…"

"It seems like he did. Good old dad with the cons as usual."

Not that his dad ever voiced anything about this, but he didn't like to lose. His ego didn't like that. With these revelations, it didn't take much imagination to put together what likely happened: he wanted his son to think his mother abandoned him. Not only did that hurt his mother, but it made him a lot easier to manipulate.

"I can't believe this. Paddy, did you think...did you think I left you? That I abandoned you?"

"Yes."

"All these years?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God." She was tearful. "Paddy, I never abandoned you! I swear! I didn't handle things the best way, but I always planned to send you money to take care of you. I wanted to bring you with me, but I couldn't when I first left. I thought you didn't answer me or seek me out because you were angry with me. I should have never left without you, but I thought I could secure a better opportunity for us and save money for us to be better off. But Paul...he was a much better man than I ever imagined. When I told him, he said 'let's go get your boy because this is his home too.' We even put a Christmas stocking with your name on it out on the mantle each year."

They both cried on the phone. When Teresa found him, she was a bit concerned.

"Who's on the phone, Patrick?"

"I'm talking to her."

"Your mother?" He nodded.

"She didn't leave me."

He wished he could give a better summary of what was happening, but his head was swimming at this revelation. She never left him. It was as Teresa said, there were things he didn't understand. There were things that he didn't see about the situation.

Teresa only nodded and placed her hand on his back. They managed to talk a little bit more before arranging to meet. Mom invited them out to have dinner at their place next weekend, promising that his siblings would all be excited to meet him.

"Who's that?"

"That's Teresa. My wife."

"Oh, you're married? Do you have any children?"

"We have a daughter and another one on the way."

"Oh, Paddy. I'm a grandma! That's so great!"

"Will you come out to see us some time soon? What about next weekend? We have a spare bedroom, but if you want, we can put you up in a hotel. Or if it's too soon, I understand. I want to keep in touch!"

He looked at Teresa. "Las Vegas next weekend?"

She nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, we'll come out. And don't worry about a hotel. I've got it."

"Patrick?" A man's voice was on the line.

"Uh, hello?"

"This is Paul. Your step-father. I'll get my assistant to work with you to make plans over the coming week. Just let us know, and we'll get your plane tickets booked. Like your mom was saying, we'd love it if you stay here. Or we can get you a hotel suite for the family."

"You don't have to do all of that. I can…"

"Nonsense, son! I'm looking forward to meeting you."

"Give me the phone back, Paul!" He grinned as his mom returned to the line. "I'm sorry about that, Paddy. I can't wait to see you, my boy. I love you."

"Me too, mom."

As soon as he hung up, he wrapped his arms around Teresa. His wife, his partner-she'd seen things in a way that he couldn't. Perhaps it was because he wasn't a mother. Perhaps it was because she knew how to look out for him in ways he didn't anticipate. Now, he was seeing his mom for the first time again in years.

Mom. As much as he tried to move on from the past, it felt nice to say that again after 27 years.

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A/N 2: So, I had this idea of him meeting his mom back when I was writing Is There Anyone Out There. In fact, it was one plot point that pushed me toward continuing that story and exploring these themes of family a little more. The show never really says what happened to her, and that interested me. A lot of his reaction to Annie in this story and other things that have happened have come from this abandonment narrative that he learns here is not exactly the full story. I know at least one reader raised the question a few chapters ago about his mom, so if you were looking for that (or maybe feel this is out of left field ha), I hope you enjoy. I know the title doesn't quite match the song about a mom (or grandma) who dies but her wisdom survives her on Patrick's side of things, but I thought it was the best fit here for Teresa because she definitely has that wisdom about her. Anyway, I hope this worked out haha. Next chapter, we are going to meet his mom.