Sutherland’s Pride by Kathryn Brocato Page A

groaned.
    “Obviously a talented kid,” Flynn said. “Just be sure he doesn’t eat some of the keys.”
    Pride signed the documents, conscious all the while of the wild clacking of a computer keyboard in the outer office. When she had finished, and Killeen affixed her signature and the notary seal to the papers requiring it, Flynn nodded at the white envelope Pride had laid on his desk.
    “I don’t know what’s in it,” he said. “I think your father was going to tell me, but he died before I could come to him.”
    Pride opened the envelope and extracted the document it contained. “It’s my birth certificate, and an old letter from my mother to him.”
    She studied it in silence, conscious of Flynn’s regard as she read the names of Alan Donovan and Elizabeth Bernard Donovan. There was nothing on the certificate she didn’t already know, and she wondered why on earth her father had retained her birth certificate among his legal papers.
    The old letter, written before her parents had married, very likely contained the answer. She replaced the letter and birth certificate back in their envelope and tucked it in her tote. She didn’t dare read the letter until she was alone, if then. Maybe she would have Gloria read it.
    “I think he was trying to tell you something,” Flynn said.
    Pride looked at him, conscious of a swirl of conflicting emotions in her heart and an equally conflicting swirl of thoughts in her brain.
    A loud wail sounded from the outer office. Pride recognized Tracy’s voice, and an instant later, heard Gloria putting down the insurrection.
    “I think I’d better change clothes so we can go,” Flynn said. “Otherwise, the children may kill each other.”
    “You’re so right,” Pride said. “Believe it or not, all that fighting means they’re learning how to get along.”
    “True,” Killeen said. “All too soon, they’ll quit speaking to each other. Mine are at that stage.”
    “How old are your children?” Pride asked, interested.
    “Thirteen and fifteen. The thirteen-year-old is jealous of the fifteen-year-old, and the fifteen-year-old thinks the thirteen-year-old is too gross for words. It’s an interesting development, after all the fighting they did the previous twelve years.” Killeen smiled warmly at Pride and left the office.
    Pride filed away the fact of Killeen’s single parenthood of two teens. Writers tended to collect people who were experts in a wide variety of fields.
    “What are you thinking, Pride?” Flynn asked.
    She looked up to see his warm, brown gaze on her face.
    “I was wondering how Gloria was going to get along when her kids get into their teens,” she improvised.
    “She seems to have her children well-in-hand. Want to step outside while I change?”
    Pride went and plucked Johnny off Killeen’s computer. She held him in her lap and sat down to engage Killeen in a discussion of Tracy Eric’s thoughts as applied to single parents of teenagers.
    Flynn appeared, now clad in old khakis and a plaid shirt, and Pride studied him from behind Johnny. He looked like the Flynn she remembered, far more enticing to her eyes than the suit-clad lawyer.
    He led the way to the parking garage, carrying Sylvia and Johnny both, while Pride and Gloria herded Tracy and Eric.
    “We’re going to Galveston,” he said. “Who wants to ride with me?”
    All the children wanted to ride with Flynn, which would be possible if all the safety seats designed for children were transferred to Flynn’s Bronco. Grinning, Pride personally saw to the transfer. It was high time Flynn received an overdose of eager children. They’d keep him hopping all the way to Galveston.
    She and Gloria rode alone in Gloria’s SUV and experienced incredible silence. Pride drove and enjoyed herself both in watching the scenery and in conducting an uninterrupted conversation with her cousin.
    “He seems so intelligent,” Gloria mourned. “How can he possibly think Johnny is my