The trip back to Oklahoma had been eventful, until he had discovered the COPS SUCK sign on the back of the truck. Damn you, Angel, he thought, as he tore it into up and threw it away. Well, it didn't matter, as he didn't intend to pay any of the tickets. He wouldn't be going back to Los Angeles ever again. And he'd dump the truck as soon as he could find something else. Or maybe he wouldn't. If he went to New York, he wouldn't need a car, or so he'd heard.

He visited all of the graves: his parents, the twins, and his grandparents. Elaine, Tony, and little Mary Lindsay were buried in Los Angeles. Before he left, he had arranged for perpetual care for their graves. Joey was in the army and, by all accounts, doing well. Susie was married, happily, with a couple of kids. That just left Aunt Maeve. He couldn't believe that she was still alive, but she was; she still lived in the same tiny house where she had taken him and Elaine when their father and mother died.

"Aunt Maeve, it's Lindsey."

"I've been expecting you." He had forgotten that she had "the sight." "Please come in and have some tea."

He kissed his great aunt on her wrinkled cheek. "It's good to see you, Aunt Maeve."

"So you finally came back home." She took his right hand. "It's not really evil, you know. It was just trying to get your attention so you could help its original owner."

Lindsey was taken aback. "You knew that?"

"Of course. I saw the whole thing. I have something for you. Your mother gave this to me a long, long time ago. I've been waiting to give you this." Rising from her chair, she went to the bookcase and took down her Bible. Inside it was an envelope. It said TO LINDSEY ON HIS 25TH BIRTHDAY. "You're a little late coming home to get it."

Lindsey turned the envelope in his hands. "When did Mom give this to you?"

"Shortly after she brought you home from the hospital when you had that emergency appendectomy. Don't open it now. Wait until you are alone." She got up again and poured tea, and then she put little cookies on a plate. "Help yourself. Do you still use cream and sugar?"

"Equal and skim milk now. I have to watch my weight because I haven't been getting much exercise."

"I hope you'll still eat some of my cookies, Lindsey. You used to love them."

He took two on his plate and bit into one. "Still do, Aunt Maeve."

Shortly thereafter he took his leave, kissing her on the cheek. "Goodbye, Aunt Maeve."

"Goodbye, Lindsey. Be sure to take your time when you make your next decision about what you want to do with your life. You've made one very bad one, even though I can understand how the poverty and helplessness of your past drove you to it. You have a chance to turn your life around. You've already started. But just remember that your happiness and success cannot be bought at the price of someone else's unhappiness and failure."

He looked at her with awe. "You're right. I promise I'll think about it."

"And, Lindsey, you might start going to church again."

As it turned out, Lindsey did go to church sooner than he thought. Aunt Maeve died the next day. It was as if she had been waiting to see him one more time. Saturday morning he was a pallbearer at her funeral. Sunday in her honor he went to Mass. Then he set off toward the east.

He didn't even open the letter until that night when he was in a motel on the outskirts of St. Louis. What could his mother have waited so long to tell him?

My dearest Lindsey,

I don't know quite how to tell you this, which is why I'm waiting until you are fully grown and have chosen your path in life. Please don't judge me or blame me for what has happened to you, your brothers and sisters, and me. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was just a girl, just seventeen.

Mike and I had gone to the prom together. He was the handsomest young man in the school, and I loved him so. After prom some of us had rented motel rooms instead of going to the party. I should have known what would happen, but I guess I was stupid. And Mike was unprepared. I was so worried. That was all I could think about on the trip to New York with the Future Lawyers Club.

A young assistant district attorney just out of law school had been asked to take us on the tour. He was so good looking and so intelligent. Mike was handsomer but not as smart. I had had permission to go to the ballet with one of the other girls that night, but she had been sick and didn't feel up to going. I didn't want to go by myself, and I guess I mentioned it to Jack. He said he loved the ballet and offered to take me. So I put on my prom dress, which I had chosen carefully so it could go to the ballet as well, and took a taxi to Lincoln Center. Jack met me there, and we saw Swan Lake.

Lindsey, I honestly don't know how it happened, but after the ballet we went to Jack's place. I didn't stay the night, because the chaperones were expecting me, but I might as well have. I knew I'd never see him again, but, Lindsey, it was magical. I felt like a princess. Mike couldn't have begun to know how to treat me like that; he was just a nice Oklahoma boy. Jack was everything I'd ever dreamed of in a man.

You know the rest. A few weeks later I discovered that I was pregnant. Mike and I were married. He lost his scholarship and so did I. We tried to make it on our own, and we did for a while. Then we had Elaine, and then Susie. And then you got appendicitis.

We rushed you to the hospital, where they took out your appendix. Both Mike and I were tested to give blood for you, but they wouldn't take either of ours. Dr. Willis told me that I was anemic. He said that although Mike was borderline anemic, he would have taken his blood, but it didn't match yours. No way was Mike McDonald your father. Somehow I wasn't too surprised. Although you looked a little like Mike, you were so terribly smart that I had begun to doubt that you were his. I also saw a look on your face, a look of sheer determination, that I had never seen on Mike's face.

I knew that someday you'd have to know this, in case, God forbid, you needed a transplant or you fell in love with your half-sister or something like that. I must be dead, or I would be telling you this myself. So Lindsey, your father is an attorney and is, or perhaps was, an assistant district attorney in New York City named Jonathan James McCoy. I don't know what you'll do with this information, but I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm so sorry I've hurt you, Lindsey. Please forgive me. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I love you more than life itself.

Mom

Lindsey read and re-read the letter. He couldn't believe it, but it explained so many things. It explained why he had never really felt close to his dad and why he was different from the other kids. It explained the way his mother had looked at him sometimes and why she had gone to Confession so often. Now what was he going to do?

He took out his laptop and tried to locate Jonathan James (Jack) McCoy. It would appear that he was the Executive Assistant District Attorney of New York City. As Lindsey had considered going to New York, among other places, he decided to head that way.

When he arrived in New York, he learned that there was a shortage of Assistant District Attorneys. His grades and recommendations from law school professors, and even a few from legitimate clients of Wolfram & Hart, got him in the door for an interview with District Attorney Nora Lewin.

"So, Mr. McDonald, why did you leave Wolfram & Hart? I understand the firm has a rather checkered reputation."

"I finally realized that it wasn't the place for me. I had gone there because they had made me the best offer. After three years I knew I wanted to be able to look at myself in the mirror. I want to make things better and to make up for things that I've done that I'm not proud of."

"I believe in second chances, Mr. McDonald. However, I also believe in honor and ethics. As long as your mistakes are honest ones, you'll do all right here. If I think you've violated your oath, you'll be out and, if circumstances warrant, subject to prosecution and/or disbarment. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly. As I said, I want to start doing the right things. You won't have to worry about me, I promise you."

"Very well, you can start Monday. Jack McCoy, my executive assistant, will be expecting you at 8:30."

Lindsey couldn't sleep at all Sunday night. Monday he dressed carefully and re-read his mother's letter. The butterflies in his stomach kept him from eating any breakfast. At 8:20 he was waiting in Jack McCoy's office.

A pretty girl with shiny blonde hair wearing a pale blue suit had smiled at him as she walked down the hall. She had a striking resemblance to Kate Lockley; rather, she looked like Kate might have looked if she had taken pains with her hair, her makeup, and her wardrobe. Lindsey smiled back.

As he waited, he read the letter one more time. Should he give it to Jack? He heard the door to the office open. "Lindsey McDonald?"

He rose and turned to face the tall man with piercing dark-brown eyes, a beak of a nose, and a full head of graying hair. Before he held out his hand, he stuck the letter in his pocket. Some things were better left alone. He would never tell Jack about his mother. What good would it do? It would be his secret.

"Hello, Mr. McCoy," Lindsey said to his father.