Jeremy closed his diary and placed it on its usual place; under his pillow. He had just finished writing the 36th letter, of the letters that he addressed to Kiara. Without him realizing, he was slowly becoming addicted to the diary.
He slowly pulled out his laptop and thought to use the time to update his website. He had a whole folder of Vincent Lisandro's photographs, but he was limited, because not all of them could be posted online. One of the pictures showed Vincent about to suck his fist, and he was smiling brightly, his eyes big and lovely.
"Anyone home? Halloo!" he heard Nesisa's voice from downstairs. Jeremy rushed down and met Nesisa at the kitchen door.
"Hi, are you not at work today?" he asked her with a smile.
"I should be, but I attended a meeting with a client in the area, and instead of going back to the office, I decided to pass by." She opened the tap and took some water to drink.
"Oh, how is family?"
"Family is fine. Well to be honest, I knew you would be home, and I am dying to see pictures of Kiara's baby. That's the truth…I mean that's why I used my lunch break to come here. I've been checking your website and social media pages, but there is nothing."
Jeremy laughed. "Well, I am about to pick a few pictures for the website, but none of them are going to show his face. The Pinkertons advised that the child's face should not be displayed for the public to see."
"Why? What's so special about him? Please let me see him before I rush back to work."
Amused at how much Nesisa loved gossip, Jeremy ran upstairs and brought back his laptop. The folder was already open, so Nesisa started scrolling. She had seen three pictures when she frowned,
"Who is this baby? How come these look like pictures of my Elvis, but my son doesn't have these clothes which I am seeing in these pictures?"
"Elvis? No, this is Vincent," Jeremy corrected his sister in law.
Nesisa sat down and viewed more pictures. The more she looked through them, the more confused she became.
"Why does he look so much like Elvis?" she asked.
"Does he?" Jeremy bent down and looked. "Umm, you're right. They do look alike. The thing is I never looked closely at Kiara's son. But now that you say it, I think they do look like each other."
"Why should they look this much alike? I tell you, when I looked at the first pictures, all I saw was my baby Elvis."
Thinking that Nesisa was exaggerating, Jeremy laughed.
"I'm not joking. Look closely. Come on, let me look for a picture of Elvis when he was Vincent's age," she scrolled through her phone and flashed a picture in Jeremy's face.
"Here, please send one picture from the laptop to my phone. Here, my Bluetooth is on."
Jeremy quickly did as Nesisa had asked.
"What do you want to do?" he asked.
"I'm doing a collage. I want these two pictures side by side. Here, I got it. Now look, Jeremy, doesn't this look like the exact same kid?"
Jeremy looked at the collage and he almost choked on nothing. What? How? He kept looking and rubbed his eyes, looked again, and the result was still the same.
"How on earth did you not realise that these two babies look like twins, Jeremy?" Nesisa asked.
"I…I never looked closely at Kiara's baby, because that child causes me pain. Plus they say young babies always look alike."
"Who said that? It's not true. Each baby can have their own face, they don't necessarily have to look alike."
"I don't know…" Jeremy looked aside and did not want to talk anything more about the pictures. But Nesisa would not let him off that easily.
"Have you shown mother the pictures of Kiara's son?" she asked.
"No, I did not."
"Why don't you show her? You don't have to tell her anything, just show her and then watch closely how she reacts and what she says. Look out for her facial expressions and everything."
"I will do that," Jeremy said.
Nesisa said a few more words, asked to see more of Kiara's photos, and exclaimed,
"Wooow! She looks like a goddess in that blue dress! The Pinkertons are surely taking good care of her. Can you send me a few?"
"I can, but if you share them with anyone, you will get me in deep trouble."
"I won't share them. They're just for me to see."
After chatting for a while longer, Nesisa left the house as she hurried back to her workplace.
Her visit greatly unsettled Jeremy. What on earth was she talking about? Jeremy did not want to be given any hopes when it comes to Kiara. He child was Vines; and even the DNA test had proved that. Why was Nesisa coming in to plant other ideas in his mind?
Failing to wait until end of day, Jeremy ended up deciding to go outside and take pictures of flowers. He was wishing for his mother to come back home as soon as could be.
When Sharon finally arrived, Jeremy greeted his mother and got straight to the point. He showed her the pictures of Vincent, watching her closely so as not to miss any reactions.
"He's a cute little child," Sharon said. "But as I told you, I was not happy that you took the risk of going to the Pinkertons in disguise. What is they find out, Jeremy? I worry about you every day. If you could do it my way, you would just forget about Kiara and concentrate on yourself."
"I will, mum. I mean, it was Nesisa who visited and she gave me this idea," Jeremy went on to explain everything.
Sharon looked at the picture again. Indeed, the child looked like Elvis, but Sharon would never acknowledge that. She did not want to say or do anything that would cause her son any more pain.
"Didn't they do a DNA test?" she asked.
"It was done, and it showed that Vincent is Vine's son."
"So then he is. He might have a few features that look like Elvis, but he's Vine's son. The Pinkertons surely used the best services for the DNA test; I have no doubt that the child is Vine's."
"Why do you think Nesisa was saying all this? Was she trying to tell me something….I mean, what...what if the child is mine?" Jeremy swallowed hard, not believing that he had just said what he said.
"The child is not yours, Jeremy! Are you saying you doubt the capabilities of the person who did the DNA test? I hate to say this, but I am not happy with your obsession over Kiara! She left you, and you have to let go."
"I'm not obsessed with her, mother," he said.
"You're not? Really? Then explain this to me; why did I find a bra in your car? I saw a bra, and to make the guessing easy for me, that bra had breast pads stuck to it, reeking of breast milk. I was so disgusted, my son! And I know the day when you brought her here. Because there was a night when I heard sounds of doors opening, and at first I thought it was a robber. I peeped and saw you, my son, and because I trusted you enough to believe that you were just up to edit your photographs, I went back to sleep. It was only after I saw the bra that I knew you had brought Kiara here, and I don't even want to know what the two of you did."
Jeremy faced the floor and wished for it to just open up and swallow him whole. His mother knew all along; and yet she never said a word? How embarrassing it was!
"Mum, I'm sorry. It's just that, Kiara came here and I could not chase her away, because I still love her, mum."
"I know that you still love her, but you will need to train your heart to let go. She is a married woman now. And to add to that, Nesisa has to come here and give you ideas that the child is yours? I love Nesisa a lot, but you and I both know that she loves talking a lot, and sometimes she exaggerates. She is a sweet girl and all, but we both know that fact about her. Forget about what she said. Forget about Kiara, my child." Sharon sounded like she was going to cry.
"I hear you, mum," Jeremy continued to face the floor, and he was truly embarrassed, especially by the fact that his mother found the bra. So where was it? Where did she put the bra? Could she have burnt it? Or thrown it away? Jeremy dared not ask her.
"You are my son, Jeremy, and I love you," Sharon went on. "I wouldn't want to lose you because of Kiara. She belongs to another man now, and you also must move on and live your life happily without her."
"Yes mother."
"Do you promise me, son, that you won't meddle into the Pinkerton's business anymore? Remember the day that they came here to take Kiara away. They are dangerous people, and I still have every reason to believe that they have a lot, if not everything, to do with your kidnapping that other time. Leave Kiara alone, my son. She is now a married woman."
"Yes mother, I hear you," Jeremy said in a low voice.
He excused himself and went to his room, leaving the laptop on the table.
Sharon pulled the laptop closer to her and started going through the photos. She felt a lump of bitterness when she saw Kiara looking all classy and rich, in a perfectly beautiful room. Everything about her had changed, and she looked ten times more beautiful. She was dressed like royalty, and Sharon, for the first time, held resentment over Kiara. She disliked her for the pain that she made her son go through.
She continued to scroll and started to look at the pictures of the child. She zoomed in and out, looked closely at the little face, and if she was to be honest with herself, she would say that the child did look like Elvis. Not only that; the child also looked like Jeremy, and he looked like Jacob too. Jeremy and Jacob looked alike, and the little boy did look like them. His hair was the exact same shade as her sons', but then that meant nothing, considering Jeremy and Vine had the exact same hair colour. The child could have simply taken his hair colour from his father Vine.
The longer Sharon looked at the child, the more she saw images of her own sons in their infant years.
"Why does this boy have to look so much like my grandson?" she spoke out aloud with great irritation.
And in his room, Jeremy pulled out his diary:
Letters to Kiara
Letter 37
Nesisa showed me something which I would rather have not seen. Why does your son look like my brother's son, Kiara? When you look at him, do you see any of my features in his little face?
Did you tell me the truth about the DNA test results? And when it was done, why was I not included in it as well, considering there was a possibility that I was his father?
Did you hide anything from me? Or am I just too desperate to have you back, that I now convince myself to believe that the child could be mine?
The child is not mine, its best I take that in and believe it, before I hurt myself.
The child is not mine, and all I can do is to hope that one day you will come back to me.
I still love you.
Forever yours, JRR