Chapter 18

Traditionally following the conclusion of a trial, Perry and Della celebrated. Sometimes they celebrated with their clients; sometimes with Paul Drake and assorted friends within law enforcement ranks such as Lt. Arthur Tragg and even District Attorney Hamilton Burger; and sometimes they celebrated alone.

Perry made it known before being whisked off to the hospital that he wanted clients and associates to gather at the office. Della suspected it was to spare her having to socialize with Laura Parrish, and that he would conveniently use his injury to beg out of a bigger celebration with the Parrish family so they could celebrate alone.

That was just fine with her, because her preferred celebrations were those where they were the sole participants. And after this particular case, she deserved a private celebration.

Ken Malansky ably stepped into Perry's shoes as host, making sure the atmosphere was festive as he answered questions and explained what he could about Perry's strategies and thought processes; about how Suzy Richards had finally been located; and how Frank Bossit's recent cash purchase had raised suspicion; until the man himself appeared with his arm in a sling and a prescription for painkillers in his pocket that would most likely go unfilled.

Della hung back as the Parrish family swarmed him upon arrival, noticing that Laura Parrish had no difficulty whatsoever in tearfully telling him how grateful she was for him giving her back her daughter, and clinging to his good arm for all she was worth. He caught Della's eye a couple times, trying to gauge her mood, knowing that she was no doubt seething about what he'd told Ken to do, but as much as he wanted her with him in the emergency room, he needed her sensibility at the office more.

Ken popped the cork on a chilled bottle of Cristal, and during a flurry of toasts, jokes, tears, and hugs, Perry managed to make his way to Della and pull her into his private office while Max attempted to open another bottle of champagne.

She stood inches away, eyeing him critically, trying not to throw herself into his arms...well, arm. "Are you all right?" His suit was disheveled and his hand appeared slightly swollen, but otherwise his color was good and he didn't appear to be in much pain.

"I'm fine. Jammed my shoulder, twisted my elbow, and sprained my wrist. It doesn't hurt much."

"I was really scared." Still was. He had hurt all three major joints in his arm, for crying out loud!

"Forgive me. I didn't want you in the middle of all the commotion."

"If I have to allow you to tackle men half your age, Perry Mason, you have to allow me to be there when you get hurt. And you can't send Ken Malansky to manhandle me into submission."

His grin was lopsided and engagingly dimpled. "Who says I'll get hurt again?"

She leaned her forehead against his chest and sighed. "You're seventy years old. You are definitely going to get hurt again if you insist on living out boyhood fantasies of playing linebacker for the Green Bay Packers." He had taken knocks before, including a vicious kick in the knee, black eyes, bumps on the head, and several broken toes all for the sake of protecting her or a client.

He lifted her chin with his index finger and gently kissed her. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Della placed her hands flat against his chest, adjusting the fabric on the sling, and looked up into his deep blue eyes. "I'm not at all condoning what you did, but I will admit I was impressed."

"So I'm still your hero?"

"Always have been, always will be."

Before he could kiss her again, someone coughed behind them in the doorway.

"Son-of-a-biscuit," she muttered under breath. "Yes, Laura?"

Laura Parrish stepped forward boldly, eyes boring into Della's over Perry's shoulder. "I have something important to discuss with Perry."

With comic panic in his eyes, Perry mouthed "don't leave me," but Della merely smirked, patted his chest, and exited the office, closing the door quietly behind her.

"I'm afraid Della doesn't like me," Laura observed with forced cheerfulness, disappointed that the woman hadn't slammed the door. It would have supported what she planned to tell Perry about Della's earlier animosity.

"Have you given her a single reason to like you, Laura?"

His belligerent attitude thoroughly sucked the wind from her sails, Laura blinked her eyes rapidly. "Whatever do you mean? She's been hostile toward me. Why, after the trial..."

Perry sighed and shook his head. Laura was not one for self-reflection or self-awareness, and he refused to take the bait about Della's supposed transgression. If anyone deserved to be hostile, it was Della Street, but he knew while she might have bested Laura with a few carefully placed barbs, she had long outgrown any inclination toward outward hostility. "Never mind. What is it you need to discuss?"

"Perry," she purred, closing the gap between them and placing her hands flat against his chest in the same manner as Della had, "don't play gruff attorney with me. You were so happy to see me at the wedding. Why are you being so mean now?"

He placed his hands over hers and firmly removed them from his chest. "I don't have patience for games, Laura." She reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on whom. "What is it you want to discuss with me?"

She stuck her lip out in an adolescent pout. "I want to properly thank you for saving our daughter, and you won't –"

"Laura," he said sharply, "stop it. Let's cut through the bullshit of the last twenty-five years and put an end to your delusion right now."

Had he ever really liked Laura or truly been attracted to her? When he thought of her he remembered young Laura from when they first met – intelligent, fun-loving, articulate, involved in causes, married to a decent man who had quickly become a good friend. Could he not trust memories from that time of turmoil in his relationship with Della? He had been so wrong about his 'first' Laura, maybe how he remembered his 'other' Laura was idealized as well due to the circumstances surrounding their involvement and his attempt to reconcile what he'd done against a figment of his imagination.

Pushing aside Laura's crazy claim that Kaitlynn was his, he had accepted Max's offer to be a part of his daughter's life, because frankly, it helped in his personal grieving process, and thought when the baby was born Laura would realize it was her husband's child. Kaitlynn wasn't a replacement for the daughter he and Della lost, but he wanted to love her, needed to love her, and once Della knew the truth about everything, she understood, since she had amassed a staggering number of 'children' to fill the gaping hole in her own heart.

"What bullshit, Perry?" she asked sweetly. "Only a father would have done what you did for Kaitlynn."

"You don't know me at all, Laura. Any attorney worth his salt would have done what I did. However, I will admit that this case was highly personal. I love Kaitlynn."

"Of course you love your daughter," Laura literally cooed.

One fist clenched at his side, Perry stepped away from Laura Parrish, fearing he might shake her to within an inch of her life. "Laura, I've put up with a lot from you out of affection for Kaitlynn as well as respect for Max, and dammit, guilt over how I betrayed his friendship, but enough is enough. The gloves are off. Kaitlynn isn't my daughter and I'm prepared to prove it."

"I've put up with a lot from you, too, Perry Mason! I forgave you for staying with Della and letting another man raise your child, but have you given thought one to how much it hurts me when you say you aren't Kaitlynn's father? A woman knows who the father of her child is. I die a little inside every time you deny her."

Laura might be able to manipulate her husband as if it was her major in college, but Perry had decided he would not be manipulated by Laura anymore for the sake of keeping in touch with Kaitlynn. As an adult Kaitlynn could make up her own mind if she wanted to continue a relationship with him, or not, although with Della now in the mix, he suspected Kaitlynn would come around as often as her schedule allowed. "Do you not understand when I say that not only is Kaitlynn not my child, she can't be my child? Do I need to spell it out?" It begins with a 'v'...

Laura stepped forward and laid her hands on his chest again. He could be such a beast sometimes with his words, which always made her press harder to find the passion they once shared. "You proved she's your daughter by what you did for her. I will always be grateful, and I will always love you for giving her to me."

Perry roughly shoved his good hand in his pants pocket and took several long strides away from her to behind the massive mahogany Sligh desk. He needed space and the desk between them or he might strike a woman for the first time in his life when it wasn't in an effort to save her life. "You don't love me, Laura. And I don't love you. We had one night of sex that I barely remember and twenty-five years spent arguing over something that absolutely cannot be. Why can't you accept it? Max deserves better –" he suddenly stopped and pinned her with a fierce stare. "Have you told Max what happened between us?"

Laura looked stricken and her chin wobbled. "N-n-no you said not to. You aren't going to be a bastard and tell him are you?"

He had wondered how long it would take her to call him a bastard, her go-to pet name for him. "What's the matter, Laura? You've threatened to divorce Max about once a month for as long as I've known you. Why haven't you ever gone through with it?"

"If-if I had divorced Max, would you have left Della?"

"Not on your life, sister."

There it was again, the crassness that spurred her on. "That's why, you bastard! Why would I divorce Max if my daughter would be left fatherless?"

Perry snorted. "Quit with the drama, Laura. Max would not have abandoned Kaitlynn. As a matter of fact, I suspect that in the event of a divorce, the courts might actually have given him sole custody."

"That's absurd. Courts always give children to their mothers."

"Not if the mother is a lying adulterer."

The corners of Laura's mouth raised in a sly smile. "But Max doesn't know about that, and you won't tell him. He thinks you're his friend and that Kaitlynn is his. You wouldn't hurt him like that."

Perry looked down at his desk, which Della had cleared and dusted the night before. "I've already hurt him more than any man should be hurt," he replied sadly, "and I will live with that the rest of my life. No, I'm not going to tell Max. But I'll tell you what I am going to do."

"What is that?"

"I'm going to submit to a blood test. There have been a lot of advances in DNA research. It's even becoming commonplace in the courtroom."

Laura's sly smile morphed into a smirk. "You'll need Kaitlynn's blood. How will you get that?"

"Why, I'll ask her. She knows."

"She knows what?"

"She knows about us. By the way, she also knows Max is her father. They have the same ears and feet."

Laura melted into one of the leather wing-back client chairs. "H-how do you know...how do you know this?"

"She told Della, and Della confirmed it."

"And of course Della went running to you about it." Laura suddenly sat up straight, eyes flashing. "Why would Della tell Kaitlynn about our affair?"

"Because Kaitlynn asked her if it was true she could be my daughter. Della confirmed it was possible, but that she wasn't. Because, you see, Della knows Kaitlynn cannot be my daughter."

"How dare Della tell my daughter such lies! Who does she think she is?"

Perry leaned forward, propped up with his one good arm. "Della is the primary victim in all of this ugliness. I betrayed her, she forgave me, and I agreed to never tell her who the woman was. But after talking to you for five minutes ten years ago she realized it was you, and that Kaitlynn's birthday coincided with that night. Unfortunately she didn't have one very important piece of information and we spent three terrible years apart because of it. I'm to blame for that. I hadn't told her why Kaitlynn couldn't be mine, why no child could be mine."

"What is going on here?" Laura asked in bewilderment. "Kaitlynn is yours. I wasn't with Max for a week before and after we..."

"A week!" Perry exploded. "You said weeks."

Laura raised her chin defiantly. "The doctor gave me a conception date of the night we slept together. He was the preeminent doctor in Alexandria at the time. And I told you, a woman knows when she conceives."

"That's a load of bunk. Plenty of women have no idea they are pregnant. You've gone from weeks to a week. Was it really three days, four days?" Della hadn't suspected she was pregnant, and her highly renowned doctor had given them a three-day conception window due to a phase in their relationship when they were exceptionally affectionate. Perry sat down heavily in his leather swivel chair, waves of grief surging over him. "A blood test will put an end to this, and once the results come back that I am not Kaitlynn's father, I hope you will realize all the pain you've caused."

"W-what about Max?"

"Max won't have to know about the test. I like Max, and I will continue to be his friend. Since meeting Della he has mentioned the four of us getting together regularly. Unfortunately, that isn't going to happen, because I don't like you, Laura. Della, bless her, could probably find some redeeming quality in you, but I don't think I ever can. I'm done."

"You won't be done, because you'll have egg on your face when the test comes back you're Kaitlynn's father."

Perry rubbed the stubble along his jawline. Now that Kaitlynn was cleared of the murder charge, he realized how tired he was, physically and mentally. He should take Della to the lake house for a couple weeks and do nothing but fish, eat, lay in the hammock, and make love to her. Or maybe they could visit Paul and Michelle, and be doting grandparents to little Trey. Michelle was pregnant again, due soon. Maybe they could stay for a few weeks to help out. Della would like that. Heaving a huge sigh, he opened the center desk drawer and pulled out a piece of scrap paper.

"I'm going to write a word and a date," he said, all life drained from his voice. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Laura had to stop fantasizing. "It's the reason I can't be Kaitlynn's father. The only other person alive who knows about this is Della." He wrote the nine-letter word and six-digit date in perfect block letters and laboriously folded the paper in half by sliding it between the swollen fingers of his injured hand, then pushed it to the edge of the desk toward Laura.

Laura regarded the folded paper distastefully. "A word can't change the truth, Perry."

"This word can. Read it now or later, I don't care. Please leave my office."

Laura slid to the edge of the leather chair and snatched the paper from the desk. "Now who's being dramatic?" she inquired snidely. "This smacks of one of your famous courtroom stunts." She'd lived so long with the hope that one day the great Perry Mason would publically accept Kaitlynn as his daughter; that the world would recognize her as the woman who provided him an heir and not his sainted Della Street, but he had stubbornly refused to give her the slice of glory she craved.

Perry waved away her words wearily. "Go now, Laura."

Laura Parrish arose far more gracefully from the chair than she had sat down, back straight, head held high, classic features carved from ice. "You will regret how you've treated me, Perry Mason."

"I think that will be one regret I can live with." It dawned on him who Laura reminded him of: a former client named Eva Belter; the most conniving, manipulative, no-good woman he had ever met, and the only person to elicit hatred from Della Street. How could he have involved himself with either of them? Confronted with his own stupidity he was ashamed.

"You'll never see Kaitlynn or Max again when I tell them how horribly you treated me."

"Go ahead. Tell your husband and daughter what you've done, how you've manipulated not only me, but them all these years. It will be a big price to pay, but I'll finally have peace."

Laura made an unattractive noise in her throat and headed for the door. Just as she was about to open it, curiosity got the better of her and she unfolded the slip of paper. When she turned back to Perry, her face was devoid of color, jaw slackened. "You – you can't be serious."

"As serious as the last act of a Shakespearean tragedy."

Laura quickly jerked the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

Perry sat at his desk, sadly staring at the door for several minutes until Della opened it a crack. "Are you fit for company?"

"I'm fit for you, but no one else."

Della advanced into the room and lowered herself into the chair recently vacated by Laura Parrish. "Everyone is gone. Laura literally ran out the door."

"Good riddance."

Della observed the outline of sadness in the lines of his stony expression. "You told her."

He sighed deeply. "I offered to take a blood test, but she wouldn't back down. I had to tell her."

She dropped misty eyes to her left hand and the ring finger adorned with a large emerald set in platinum. "This is it, Perry. Laura Parrish is the last one. I won't stand by you if another member of your harem shows up on the doorstep in trouble. Ellen Payne nearly ended our relationship before it began; you cleared your calendar to accommodate Laura Robertson whenever she breezed into town and then arranged to 'bump' into her in Denver; Janice Barton and her noble gesture stirred your desire for the longest three weeks of my life…and how can we forget Maryann Baynum, or that woman Heidi for God's sake…the one who came to my office at Gordon Industries and handed me your tie and cuff links twelve years ago when I couldn't attend the Bar Association Christmas gala…oh, and that hostess Petty Kaylor...or your nymph Dorothy Fenner…"

Perry held up his good hand wearily. "I swear, Della. You will not have to deal with any more women from my past."

She remained silent, staring at the emerald, wanting so damn much to believe him.

He stood and came around to her side of the desk, knelt before her. "On my honor, Della, I will not let another woman from my past anywhere near you if I can help it. I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied with a catch in her voice. "I can't smile and act as if I know nothing or that it's okay for all these women to make a claim on you. A long time ago you said I belonged to you. Well, buster, you belong to me."

"I have since the moment you walked into my office for your interview," he said softly. "I fell in love with you instantly."

Della sniffed and brushed away a tear. "You said it took ten seconds."

He chuckled. Still so sassy. "It took two months for you."

She leaned forward and ran her fingers through his still wavy, still thick hair. "I have a confession to make. I fell in love with you instantly, too."

"Then what on earth are we doing still here in the office, Miss Street?"

Their kiss was tender and resplendent with a long history together. "I haven't the slightest idea, Mr. Mason."