She was obviously pissed at him and wasn’t ready to talk, but he knew he had to keep trying. He had a son he knew nothing about, and he wasn’t going to let that slip away from him. She’d accused him of not trying to contact her, but every call he’d made to her parents’ house always ended in a hang-up the second they’d known who it was, or the phone had just rung without even being picked up by their ancient answering machine. And had she really tried to call him? His new phone had the same number, so if she’d called his cell, he should have gotten those calls. He rubbed his hands through his hair, feeling horrible, knowing he’d done nothing to help her. And she’d kept his child instead of aborting it or placing it for adoption. A son. He would be just over seven years old. Stephen didn’t have much experience with children other than his cousins, since he didn’t have any siblings. Though Hawaiian families were traditionally very large and close-knit, his was different.
