Max Evans, known as Parker Maxwell for the past ten years, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two kids in front of him. He couldn’t believe what he saw, heard and felt. The boy glanced from Max to the blond girl next to him, his eyes slightly wary. The girl clutched the boy’s hand tightly, like a lifeline. Max shook his head and took a tentative step forward. Neither of them took a step back and Max was again puzzled by how they looked at him like they knew him. He’d never seen either of them before, and yet he did feel as though he knew them. The boy’s words jolted him out of his silence.

"It’s my father."

Max’s eyes went wide at the statement and he studied the boy, unable to believe it could be true. Logically speaking, it didn’t seem possible. He’d made love to one woman in his entire lifetime, and it had only been that one time with Liz. As Max narrowed his eyes and looked at the boy, he nearly gasped. He saw Liz in the boy, in his smile and open face. Looking closer, he saw himself too. The boy looked a lot like he had looked as a kid, dark hair, and light brown eyes. Max’s eyes lifted to meet the boy’s and Max tried not to look too stunned.

He really was looking at his son. At Liz’s son.

Max was trying to make sense of the jumble of questions and thoughts in his head while the girl pulled on the boy’s hand, somewhat impatiently. The boy looked at her pleading eyes and without a word to her, turned to look back at Max.

"Where is Michael?" he asked. Max hadn’t thought he could be surprised more that day, but he was. How did these children even know about him, about Michael?

"Who do you think I am?" Max asked cautiously, sidestepping the question.

"Max Evans, from Roswell, New Mexico. Though you’re originally from somewhere much further away," the boy said, grinning just a little.

"And who are you?" Max asked, his voice barely a whisper as he stepped forward.

"I’m Max Parker, and this is Elizabeth DeLuca," the boy said, gesturing to the girl next to him. Max blinked as he looked at them, at his and Michael’s children.

"I go by Beth," the girl said quietly, looking at Max hopefully. "Do you know where my father is?"

Max looked into Beth’s green eyes and her expression, so trusting, puzzled him. He didn’t understand how these children knew anything about him. He sat down on the ledge of the bridge and ran a hand through his hair.

"Michael’s in Venezuela. He’s been there for the past ten years," Max said, trying not to notice how Beth’s eyes filled with tears at the news that her father was not nearby. She hid her face in her friend’s shoulder as he studied Max carefully.

"Where have you been?" Max asked his father, his tone even. Max looked at his son and detected no hurt expression, just curiosity.

"It’s a really long story. I’m obviously behind on current events. I have a son," Max whispered, looking at the boy in front of him. Reaching out, he pulled Max towards him and engulfed him in a tight hug. He felt the ten-year-old’s arms hold onto him tightly.

"I have a son," Max knew his tone held disbelief. He held Max out to look at him carefully.

"Please, tell me what happened," Max said urgently, eager to hear what had happened in the last ten years. The boy took a deep breath and glanced at Beth before he began.

"We know why you and Michael left. You thought that you would be blamed for Sheriff Valenti’s murder. He didn’t die though. He woke up a month later and cleared you and Michael and even though he told the police it was Topolski, no one could find her. They tried to find you but couldn’t. Isabel tried every night, but you were blocking her. They tried to tell you it was okay to come back," Max said. Thoughtfully, Max nodded at his son.

"We were blocking her, because we knew she would find us otherwise. We thought we were keeping them safe," he whispered. Young Max nodded.

"They knew that, they’ve always known that. They just never got to tell you that Mom was pregnant with me and Aunt Maria was pregnant with Beth and Mike," he said. That caught Max’s attention.

"Mike? Who’s Mike?" he asked.

"Mike is Beth’s twin. And Aunt Isabel and Uncle Alex have a daughter named Belle. She’s a few months younger than the rest of us, but we were born within a few days of each other," Max replied.

"What happened? How did Liz and Maria end up in New York City?" Max asked, desperate for any news about Liz.

"Mom and Maria came here when Mom’s parents wouldn’t help her. Mom decided to go to Columbia University and Maria went with her. They’ve lived here for ten years. Mom thinks about you all the time," Max added softly. His father turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?" Max asked, unable to hope that Liz could possibly still love him after all that had happened.

"She talks about you. She shows me pictures and tells me stories. She won’t take off the wedding ring you gave her. She never goes out with other men. She tells them she’s married. She still hopes that one day you’ll come back," Max said, studying the man he’d heard about his entire life. Max swallowed, unable to look at either of the children.

"Wait, she tells people she’s married?" Max asked, grasping onto what his son had said. The boy nodded. If she told people she was married, like Steve had said, that meant what he’d heard in the museum wasn’t true. Liz wasn’t married. And she still wore the ring he’d given her. She’d promised to never take it off, and she hadn’t. Max glanced down at his left hand and ran his thumb against the smooth metal on his finger. He clenched his fist as he thought about the promises he broken to Liz.

It pained him to think that she had been so unhappy over the years, but at the same time he felt hope. He felt hope for the first time in over ten years. Despite all that had happened, he hoped that maybe he’d be able to tell Liz how sorry he was that they’d ever left. He and Michael had thought they were protecting the others when they’d gone. Instead, they’d created more pain. And he’d never known that he had a son until just a few minutes before.

"When Michael and I left, we headed south to Mexico," Max began his story, knowing the children needed to know. "We made some money and traveled to South America, taking odd jobs where we could. We heard news of some UFO sightings in Venezuela and Michael convinced me to go. That was eight years ago. We spent the next three years in Caracas. Michael studied cave drawings like the ones in Roswell that he found and investigated UFO sightings. I started to write stories for the local English speaking paper. My work got noticed and I was hired by the New York Times five years ago. I’ve been living here every since. And you’ve been here the whole time," Max said, amazed at the coincidence. Young Max grinned at his father.

"Isabel and Alex are here too. Belle and Mike are also in the Park. Mom’s sitting by the Lawn right now," Max said, watching his father carefully. He saw Max’s brown eyes light up at the mention of Liz and then how they shifted.

"They’re all here? I can’t believe it. I don’t think-I can’t see her. After all that’s happened, it doesn’t seem fair to barge right back into her life," Max said helplessly. His son fixed a hard gaze on him.

"There’s no ‘back into her life’. Mom hasn’t had a real life since she lost you. If it wasn’t for the rest of us she wouldn’t have survived this long. You just don’t get what you and Michael leaving did to everyone. But there’s no way that we’re going to let this hurt them more than it already has. I know that they think it would be better if you came back, but I want to be sure," Max said vehemently. Beth stared at Max in horror, his words surprising her.

"Max! What are you doing? Aunt Liz would want to know that he’s alive. And what about Aunt Isabel?" she pleaded, her eyes hoping for her own father’s return as well. Max caught her eyes and he softened a little, but she still noticed the resolve there.

"Not until we know it’s safe. Do you really want to watch my mom and yours go through it all again?" Max asked. Beth stared at him a moment before agreeing. Max looked at the kids, a little uncomfortable. He was starting to understand what position his absence had put his son in. He was obviously very protective and careful when it came to Liz. Max stared at his son in admiration, knowing that he couldn’t have asked for a better person to take care of her.

"I won’t walk back into her life and cause her more pain. I’ve already done enough," Max said softly. Young Max studied his father, starting to see some of what his mother had told him. Suddenly, his head shot up and looked behind them, where he and Beth had come from. He could sense two presences coming closer.

"Belle and Mike are coming," he whispered to Beth. Her eyes widened and they both looked back at Max.

"We won’t tell anyone we found you, but you’ll meet us again, right?" Max asked, his voice hopeful and pleading. His father seemed to consider it a moment before he nodded.

"Tomorrow afternoon? Right back here?" Max suggested, to which both kids nodded. As Beth started down the path, Max approached his father.

"Please bring Michael back," he said, extending his hand. His father took it and when his broad hand enveloped his son’s, he saw a thousand images at once. And he felt every emotion behind each image. The longing that Max felt whenever someone spoke about his father. The love he felt towards the family that had raised him. And the fierce protection of his mother. Max stepped back reluctantly, releasing his son’s hand. He watched at the boy walked down the path and around the bend, finally releasing the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Beth grabbed Max’s arm as they walked down the path towards the Lawn, their scavenger hunt forgotten.

"Max, can you believe it! We found them! Wait until we tell the others!"

"No."

"Max, what do you mean? We HAVE to tell them! You couldn’t have been serious back there!"

"Beth, we can’t. Not until we know it’s safe. We need to keep this between you and me until we know for sure," Max said, stopping to face her. Beth looked exasperated.

"But Max, it is safe! There’s no crime that they’re accused of, and they’re both alive. Why can’t we tell everyone?" Bath said, obviously desperate.

"Because I don’t want to put my mom, yours, Isabel or Alex through this without knowing for sure. You know as well as I do that we need to be sure," Max replied. Beth nodded.

"I know. I just want to see her face, when we tell her that my father’s alive and he’s coming back," Beth said tearfully. Max softened and comfortably put an arm around her shoulders.

"I know you do, I do too. Come on, we’ve got work to do," Max said, referring to their scavenger hunt. Although he’d been calm as he talked to his father, Max was quaking inside. It was like every birthday wish he’d made, and every wish on a shooting star had suddenly been granted. He’d found his father. And he would bring his father back to his mother.

Mike and Belle came crashing through the bushes loudly as Belle called to them. Beth and Max exchanged a silent glance before they turned to the others, carefully trying to conceal the secret they’d uncovered.

Max stood dumbfounded at the corner. He was just barely outside of Central Park, watching traffic go by on Fifth Avenue. The crosswalk had changed more times than he could count already, but he couldn’t quite seem to order his feet to move. Finally, he shook his head and crossed the street, walking on autopilot back to his apartment. After picking up his mail he climbed the stairs to his floor and dropped his backpack as he entered. The mail hit the table with a slap, completely forgotten as Max reached for the phone. He entered a long string of memorized numbers and waited as the line dialed, static crackling slightly in the background. Finally, a woman picked up.

"Hello?" she said, her voice touched with an English accent. Max grinned, knowing immediately who it was.

"Corrine, it’s Max," he said, addressing the woman who owned the apartments he and Michael had lived at when they’d been in Venezuela. She also served as Michael’s message service when he was out on trips.

"Max! So good to hear your voice! You must come visit soon, Michael has grown quite unpleasant since you last came down two years ago," Corrine said. Max nodded to himself, but pressed on impatiently.

"Is Michael around? It’s very important," he asked.

"No, he’s been on a trip to Angel Falls. He left three weeks ago and I expect him back any day. What message should I leave for him?" she asked. Max recited the words carefully and thanked Corrine before hanging up. He stared at the phone in his hand for a few minutes before he set it down on the table and walked over to the window.

Just that afternoon he’d been ready to pack up and leave behind New York. He'd been tired and worn out from all the hiding and running he’s done for the past ten years. That had all changed when he’d seen his son in the park. It felt like the answer had been given to him. Everything was still unclear, Max didn’t want to hope for too much.

He couldn’t hope for Liz. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stay in his apartment until the next day. He would have to find some way to find them. As much as he wanted to do just that, he had to remind himself to stay in control. Not until it was safe. Glancing back at the phone, he tried to will it to ring. Max knew that Michael would just get his message and react immediately, Corrine had taken down his message word for word.