Let me redeem this story for you:


March 11, 1963

Paul walked into his lawyer friend Perry Mason's office and dropped into a chair without saying anything. Perry noticed the dazed look on Paul's face. Della Street, Perry's confidential secretary, flipped her notebook shut.

"It's nice to see you too, Paul," she said as she put her book in one of the drawers of Perry's desk.

"What's with you?" Perry asked when Paul did not respond.

"I'm a father."

Perry and Della stopped what they were doing and looked at each other.

"Congratulations," Della finally smiled.

"Who is the mother?" Perry ventured to ask and Della shot him a dark look.

Paul seemed to snap out of his stupor a bit.

"You know that I was married," he began.

"Right," Della nodded.

"I didn't know that!" Perry was very surprised.

Della shot Perry an exasperated look, "I'll tell you later!" she mouthed, then said, "Go ahead, Paul."

Paul pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it to Perry. Della hung over her boss's shoulder and read along with him.

" 'Dear Mr. Drake,

We regret to inform you that your late wife Alice Connery's father, Harold Connery has passed away from a heart attack.

After your wife died, Mr. Connery took on the responsibility of caring and providing for your son.

Since Mr. Connery is no longer living, we are sending your son to live with you. He will arrive on the 4:45 train from New York on March 12.

He will be wearing his school uniform, which is how you will recognize him. The rest of his belongings will be sent after him.

Sincerely yours,

the staff of the late Harold Connery.' "

"Is it a hoax?" Perry asked.

"No, I had one of my men check up on this, and Alice had a son the February after she left me."

"My goodness!" Della said, "How old is he then?"

"I guess around twelve. I don't even know his name," Paul sighed.

"And you're meeting him tomorrow?" Perry asked.

"Yep. I guess I'd better go get a room ready for him," Paul stood and went towards the door in a daze.

"I'll be over this evening with a few things for him," promised Della.

"All right," Paul nodded and left.

The second Paul closed the door, he heard Perry nearly shout,

"PAUL WAS MARRIED?!"


March 12, 1963

Paul puffed on his cigaret and nervously glanced at his watch. 4:36. He had nine minutes. He tugged his sleeve over his watch and walked across the platform. He leaned against one of the support beams.

It had finally registered the previous evening what all was going on.

"I'm a father. I have a little boy!" he told Della when he let her into his apartment.

"I know!" she handed him the new bed spread she had bought for the boy.

"I wonder what he's like. He's twelve, but is he young for his age or mature? Does he like fishing or is he a city slicker? I can't wait to take him camping! Maybe I should buy a baseball mitt. Boys like baseball. What do you think his name is? I hope it isn't Boris. I can deal with a lot of names, but Boris? No kid should have to live with that name. I bet he's a good looking kid. Alice was pretty, and I don't think I'm too bad looking. I bet he's awful good looking! I hope he doesn't inherit my hair though. Do you think he'll be embarrassed by my hair? Maybe he'll think I'm too old. Gray hair is awful," Paul glared at his reflection in a mirror he walked past and smacked his hair.

"Your hair is very distinguished. I love it!" Della soothed.

"Yeah, I guess he won't notice. Hey, do you think he'll like that I'm a detective? I liked detectives at that age. Boy, I'd have loved to tell the kids I knew that my dad was a detective. Do you think he'll be very bookish? Maybe I should pick him up some books. I don't know what to get him though. Say, do you think he'll call me dad? I wonder if he knows about me. Do you want to be called Aunt Della? I don't think Perry will mid being Uncle Perry. Speaking of aunts and uncles, I bet my sisters are gonna be thrilled! A nephew! My boy! Gee, Della, I'm a father!"

And so he had giddily babbled on and on as Della changed the sheets and put the new bedspread on the spare room in Paul's apartment. She straightened up the dresser and dusted the picture of Paul's family sitting on the nightstand. Paul kept talking and talking. Della was glad he was so excited, but she finally had to leave.

"Della, do you think I'll make a good father?" Paul asked hesitantly.

"Have you heard yourself? I have never heard someone so excited! You are going to be a wonderful father! He'll adore you. And I cannot wait to be his Aunt Della!"

So Paul now stood waiting for the train that would change his life. He saw it coming down the track and his mouth suddenly went dry. He watched as the train pulled up to the platform. People began to get off. Paul's heart thudded wildly and he felt cold and giddy. A boy in a school , who certainly seemed to be twelve years old, stepped off. He carried a suitcase in one hand and had long case in the other. He scanned the crowd with an experienced eye. He caught sight of Paul and a smile lit up his face.

"Paul Drake, sir?" he asked.

"That's right," Paul nodded.

"I'm your son," the boy smiled again and held out his hand.

His son. He was here! And he was a fine looking boy indeed! He was strong and healthy, and had curly blonde hair and happy eyes. Paul was never prouder.

"My car is this way," Paul took the suitcase and led the way.

"So this is Los Angeles," the boy looked around him with wonder.

"Sure is! She's big, beautiful, and dangerous all at the same time," Paul nodded.

"Gee, what a neat-o car!" the boy's eyes lit up.

"I'm glad you like it, - say, what is your name?"

"Harold Alexander Marshall Connery II," the boy rolled his eyes, "But they called me Harry."

"Wasn't Harold your grandfather's name?"

"Yep, he named me after himself."

Paul was shocked, but said nothing more. Harry was full of questions, all of which Paul happily answered. Harry loved his room. Paul noticed he unpacked lots of good boy things: model cars, a baseball bat and mitt, a whole collection of baseball cards, and, to Paul's delight, a few mystery books.

"You like mysteries, Harry?"

"Oh, sure! I got in trouble for reading them so much."

"Well you won't here! You can read as many as you like! Say, did you know that I am a private detective?"

Harry eyed Paul dubiously.

"Are you funnin' me?"

"Nope!" Paul pulled out his badge and the boy's eyes were as round as saucers.

"Oh, gee!" Harry gasped.

Paul ruffled Harry's hair. He sure had a great son.


March 13, 1963

Paul took Harry to his office the next day to show him around. The boy was fascinated by it all! He asked one of Paul's detectives (Bates, as you may remember) hundreds of questions, and was not ready to leave when Paul said it was time to go.

"Can't I stay here while you go?" Harry asked.

"I have a few other people for you to meet, one of them being a criminal lawyer," Paul held the door open.

"Really?! Come on!" Harry raced out of the room.

Perry and Della were delighted to meet Harry.

"This is Mr. Perry Mason," Paul made the introductions, "And one of my best friends. You'll doubtless be seeing a lot of him."

Harry solemnly shook Perry's hand, in awe of a great criminal lawyer.

"And this is Miss Della Street, Mr. Mason's secretary."

Harry's eyes twinkled when he shook Della's hand. He had already taken a liking to her when he had found out that she had given him his bedspread, and had been the one who had left a chocolate cake in the kitchen to celebrate his arrival.

"The cake was awful good, Ma'am!" he said in a low voice.

"You needn't call me Ma'am, Harry, I feel like an old lady!" Della chuckled.

"What should I call you then?"

"You may call me Aunt Della."

"Oh, okay!"

"How do you like having a detective for a father?" Perry asked.

"Oh, gee, it's neat-o!"

"Would you like to see the law he helps uphold?" Della asked.

"Huh?"

"Come with me," Della headed towards the law library and Harry quickly followed.

"Is everything going all right?" Perry asked when they had left the room.

"Oh, yes. He's a great kid!"

"You seemed to get awfully close to him!" smiled Perry.

"Well, he's an easy kid to-," Paul began.

Harry ran in from the law library.

"Hey, Dad, can I maybe come to work with you one day?!"

"I think that would fine!"

Paul's smile was enormous. It was the first time Harry had called him "Dad"!


Harry, even though he was enrolled in school, would hurry through his school work and homework, just to be able to "help" Paul on a case. Paul was sitting on a stakeout and rather enjoyed the animated company his boy offered. They talked detective work, New York, football, baseball, school, and camping. Harry could not wait to go camping! His grandfather had never taken him, but there had been nothing he had wanted to do more!

It was Harry who noticed that every time they were on the stakeout, there was a green convertible that would be parked in the closed supermarket's parking lot just across the street from where they were watching. It ended up being the key they needed to solve the case (I cannot go into specifics here).

Harry was ecstatic after the first case he "helped" with for Perry Mason. After the court proceedings, and Uncle Perry's client being proved innocent, Della asked,

"How about a milkshake to celebrate?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to my dad first, Aunt Della."

"All right," she nodded, and went to catch up with Perry.

Harry walked silently next to Paul until they were outside.

"Uh, Dad, can I ask you something important?"

"Sure, what is it?" Paul got into the car and Harry climbed into the back seat of the convertible without opening the car door.

"Well, uh, I was wondering if we could change my name."

"Harry's not so bad, but if you want to change your name, that's all right with me. What do you want to change your name to?"

"Paul Drake, Junior."

Paul whirled around to face Harry. Harry wondered if he was angry. Paul held out his arms and Harry threw himself into them. Paul hugged his son tightly.

"I love you," he whispered through the blonde curls.

"I love you too, Dad!"

Harry's name was legally changed to Paul Drake Junior.

The end.


Oh, my! I love this chapter so much! PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! I am curious about what you guys thought and thank you so so much for reading!

There is a poll question in my profile page (at the very top) that I would love if you guys could answer! I am trying to figure out what kind of stories you are interested in reading.

On to my explanation:

Why did I bring Alice Connery into the picture, then make her dump Paul?

The reason for Alice's existence is Paul Junior. To my knowledge, there is no explanation of him anywhere in the movies. Paul obviously has to be with a girl for Junior to be born.

I did not want to make Junior born out of wedlock. That does not go along with my Christian beliefs, and I did not want Paul to have gotten a girl pregnant and that be that.

Paul flirts with women all the time in the series. I love him too much to make him flirt with women if he has a wife at home. Paul would also be devastated if the woman he loved died.

I had to make Alice marry Paul, something to have happened to make her leave (that was not Paul being a bad husband to her), that way there is an explanation for Junior, AND an explanation for why Paul is the flirt we all know him to be. Does that make any sense? I hope it does!

Thank you again for reading! I plan to have more stories up before the end of the year, so stay tuned!

3 Anne 3