24)

Despite the late night, I still woke up fairly early, the only difference becoming a werewolf had made in my sleep habit was I no longer nodded off at odd times, but with age, five hours had become and apparently still was my limit on how long I could stay down.

I could hear the sounds of some stirring coming from the kid’s room when I stopped by to check up on them, so I gave the door a knock. “Food in twenty, wash up.”

There were a few drowsy murmurs in reply.

I decided to keep it simple today by setting out bowls, spoons, milk, orange juice, and some of the cereals, flavorless for Sara, sugary crunchy nuggets and marbits, which is what the semi marshmallows bits are called, for the rest of us.

The kids came tromping, well slumping in Aran’s case, down at the same time my phone rang from a unknown number. I waved the kids in the direction of the breakfast bar, ignored Sara’s look of concern at the surgery goodness on display and answered the phone.

“Who is this, and how did you get this number.”

I recognized the sound of my nephew’s voice. “It’s me Uncle John, James, I’m using a burner phone.”

Huh, “Didn’t think you’d humor me that much, what’s up.”

“I got your email and the order has been placed, issue is someone calling himself Malcolm Jones tracked down my dad and was asking about you. He claimed to be from a law firm and was looking to arrange to deliver a bequest on behalf of a Brianna Caine. Dad said he hadn't heard from you in years, but the guy left his number, and made a point of saying it was a new phone.”

I started to ask for some more details, but James interrupted me. The younger kids were chowing down, but Sara must have picked up something from my expression, or my careful lack of one, and was looking at me with some concern.

“So what can you tell me, who is this guy, why are you ordering clothing for kids, are you in trouble?”

I pointlessly, as we were on the phone, held up my hand to slow him down.”Long story short, or shorter, three little kids showed up at my door, saying my old collage girlfriend, had sent them to me.”

“Turns out she had a kid several months after she disappeared so I’m pretty sure he’s my son, and they're my grandkids so I'm planning on taking care of them while their family drama gets dealt with.“

There was a pause on the other end of the phone as one of the kids in question look up with suspicion, Sara, a worried smile, Ami, and a complete focus on shoveling crunchberries down his throat, Aran.

James picked up the thread of the conversation in a wary tone. “...and them showing up less then a year after you win a huge fortune...”

I nodded at the phone. “Yeah, I know. Let’s just say there is more going with them, then I feel like talking about if we aren't in person and leave it at that right now. Little ears you know.”

There was another pause that I just knew meant James was nodding on his end of the phone, glad to know I wasn’t the only one who did that. “...gotcha, For right now, just don’t sign anything or make any promises that could be construed to be a verbal contract. I’m looking into the law firm this guy claimed to be working for, and you will find a picture of him from dad’s door cam in your email. All set?”

“Yep, thanks James. Bye now.”

I ended the call, and ignored the questioning looks while I opened my email and opened the “Your stalker” headed message.

I took a look, made a amused grunt, and showed it to the kids. “Any of you know this guy?’

Their was a collection of excited gasp before the deluge of questions. “That’s our dad, where is he, is he coming for us, can we talk to him, when is he coming, is our mom with him, is he okay?”

Instead of answering, “He looks like a giant leprechaun, are you sure he’s your dad?”

That shut them up for moment, before Ami gave me a big grin.

He wasn’t all that short, but was wide enough to look short standing by himself with nothing as a frame of reference, red haired and with green eyes that showed up even on the cheap color pinhole camera my oldest brother had installed on his front door.

As Sara started to protest my comparison, I copied down the phone number my nephew had included in the email since I wasn’t sure how to dial it from the text.

“Me and him have to talk for a bit, then I’ll pass the phone on, so just wait.”

I headed out to he patio outside the kitchen, turned and gave a firm look at the two girls who had started to follow me before I closed the new door behind me.

Then I took a deep breath.

I had questioned if this man was really my son, but the age was right…and he had my mother’s eyes. Plus I don’t think the kids would make up the story of him tracking me down to get a look at me, or walking away without talking to me, and why would he have done so unless he had a reason to have been curious about who I was to him.

Yeah, still feeling the disappointment in him not wanting to meet me after getting a good idea who I was in general, but was nice to get some confirmation that these kids who I had started to care about were really mine. I know the party line being pushed right now is family is more then just blood relations, but knowing the same blood that flowed in my veins, the same that had flowed in my now departed parents, and the rest of my family both living and dead was in theirs as well still meant something deeper.

To me at least, family was more then just the people you just choose to care about, it was a connection that doesn't have to be earned, and can never be severed.

Just like the one I may have with the man whose number I was dialing.

“Hello, Smith and Jones, Malcolm Jones speaking.”

Shoot, should have thought on what I was going to say, but I guess I own the little bugger a little for the whole, “you’re not worth my time to talk to” bit he had pulled.

In the most sinister voice I could come up with.

“I have your children.”