Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, not for profit, story. I do not own these characters, just borrowing them from Lewis.

A/N: James is so clever and inscrutable that I find it very difficult to write for and about him. An anonymous fan of Lewis fiction kindly gave me this intriguing story idea. I liked it so much I am going to take a risk and try to create something with it.

A brooding and carefully positioned James Hathaway fidgeted in his chair as he waited for someone. He was meeting with her for the first time even though he had known the woman for several years. He had known her professionally that is. It had now been a few years since he discovered their inconceivable personal connection. Each was waiting for the other to make the first move towards a reunion. And now here he was expecting her, in an ice cream cafe of all places. James surveyed the other patrons. Most of the tables were populated by parents and their children, having fun together, enjoying a treat. The Hathaway family never visited an establishment like this. His parents considered ice cream to be frivolous.

James had arrived an hour early. He needed time to adjust to the surroundings and the circumstances. The extra moments alone and some black coffee strengthened his courage. He smiled as he recalled the morning a nervous Robbie Lewis sat in a dental office waiting for his appointment. The longer Lewis sat there, the more nervous he became until he made his escape. James was different, a bit calmer now than when he opened the door of the cafe. If he had turned up at the agreed upon time, he would have changed his mind and not gone through with it. As a boy whenever he went swimming he couldn't jump straight into the pool with the other children. He had to first dip in an exploratory toe and get used to the idea of the cold water saturating his body. Then he would carefully lower himself into the water in precise increments. He only jumped in if someone's life was at stake.

He chose a table with a view of the entrance so he would see her the moment she appeared. The chair across the table from him was empty waiting for the woman responsible for his life to occupy it. Several times he resisted the urge to go outside and have a cigarette. If he did that, he might not come back in.

James didn't remember not knowing that he was adopted. His parents believed in openness on that subject. He didn't think much about it until he was twelve and his family moved away from the estate at Crevecoeur Hall. Then he wondered what his life would have been like had he not been given up by his birth mother or if he had different adoptive parents. Could his childhood have been worse than growing up under the influence of the Mortmaignes?

For James, being adopted meant he was clueless about his provenance. Was there anyone else in the world who looked like him, felt like him, and battled demons like him? What was the real identity of the faux James Hathaway? His decision to finally meet with his birth mother wasn't just to learn about her, it was to learn about himself. Since finding out who she was, he was sure there was just cause for her to give him up; she must have been very young when he was born. However it didn't lessen the feeling of rejection he had carried with him all of his life.

He spied her crossing the street and walking briskly in the direction of the cafe, fifteen minutes before the appointed time. Was obsessive over-punctuality a genetic trait? She didn't look any different than she did on a normal workday when she was bossing him around. He blushed; a bit embarrassed about the times he had felt some attraction towards her. Was that his inevitable Oedipus complex manifesting itself?

Even though he was committed to seeing this through, James had no hopes that anything good was going to come of it. One set of parents had let him fall into despair. A second set, or another Mother at least, could lead to his complete destruction.