Her jaw tightened. “Are these the types of questions you’re asking the other women about me?”
“I’m seeking to get a sense of the big picture.” She sidestepped answering Tracy’s question directly. “Any and all information could be helpful.”
The skin between Tracy’s eyes creased. “Are you trying to pin the fact that you were switched at birth on one of us?”
“Like she said. She’s just trying to get a sense of the big picture.” Sebastian’s tone was polite but firm.
“Joyce was always running short on money,” Tracy said. “She had three kids and a husband who was a big spender. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she was taking medicine from the hospital and selling it to pay bills. I don’t remember anything about Lois’s or Bonnie’s personal lives. I left Magnolia Avenue as soon as I was offered a job working as an administrator for a plastic surgery practice.”
“Which practice is that?” Sebastian asked.
“I’d rather not say.” She frowned at Leah. “I’m here to help you. I don’t want anyone calling my boss and making trouble for me.”
“No one will call your boss,” Leah said.
“I hated nursing, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t good at it. I worked hard, and I did my job. I was certainly sharper mentally than Joyce, who had the attention span of a gnat, and Lois, who was retirement-age.” Tracy rose to stand. “If one of the nurses made a mistake with you, it wasn’t me.” She turned and walked away.
Leah watched her cross the street toward the row of shops and restaurants on the other side.
“Sweet lady,” Sebastian commented.
“Not the most trustworthy of individuals. She struck me as . . . shifty.”
“Same.”
“I can believe that Tracy’s capable of switching two babies, but I can’t imagine why she would have been motivated to do so. I think I might try to root around in her past a bit more to see if I can uncover anything. If I can’t, I might be at a dead end. I’ve already exhausted every information source I can think of concerning my parents and the Brooksides. I’ve spoken with Joyce and now Tracy. I can’t find Bonnie.” Facing him, she took in the striking ratios of his face. “Do you have any ideas?”
“What about checking county court records? You could do that while you’re here in Atlanta, since this is where everyone lived at the time of your birth.”
“Court records?”
“For civil cases. Criminal cases.” He lifted a muscular shoulder. “Because of my job and the amount I pay in malpractice insurance every month, my mind naturally goes there. You could check to see if your parents, the Brooksides, or the nurses had charges filed against them.”
She was as far removed from the world of arrests and lawsuits as the sun from dwarf-planet Pluto. The prospect of court records hadn’t crossed her mind. Yet, if one of the parents or nurses was sued or arrested, that could provide all kinds of valuable insights. “Where can I access court records?”
“The Fulton County Courthouse, I think.” Sebastian jutted his chin toward the far side of the park. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
Before they’d left his apartment, they’d finalized their plans for the day. Meet with Tracy. Relax at the park. Eat Halloween dinner out. Tomorrow, they’d revisit the church the Brooksides attended so that Leah could hopefully get another glimpse of them.
He wedged the blanket he’d brought from home under his arm. They walked from the more crowded area of the park toward the quieter, less manicured section.
She checked her phone in case Dylan had called or texted her. He hadn’t.
“How’s your brother?” Sebastian asked, correctly guessing the reason she’d peeked at her phone.
“Hopefully not injecting amphetamines as we speak.”
He shot her a grin, and attraction jolted through her.
“I’m pleased to report,” she said, “that I received some good news about him yesterday. The dean of the fine arts program at Georgia Southern emailed me to say he was impressed by the drawings Dylan submitted with his application. Should Dylan be admitted there, the dean said he hopes he’ll consider choosing them and listed half a dozen scholarships he should apply for.”
“That’s great.”
“I was astonished. I’ve known for some time that Dylan’s a talented artist, but I hadn’t realized he was talented enough to receive personal interaction from a prospective college.”
“Good for him.”
Sebastian unfurled the waterproof side of the blanket across a patch of grass and they stretched out side by side. The sun’s rays—and a wave of peace—seeped into Leah’s skin.
She was not someone who experienced chemistry with men or days this splendid.
Except, now, somehow . . . she did?
Since she’d gained custody of Dylan, she’d only ever left him overnight with Tess and Rudy for chess tournaments or to travel as a chaperone on class trips. Perhaps she should have made an effort to get away a little bit more often. Why hadn’t she?
Because until now, she hadn’t known how freeing this would feel. Here, removed both geographically and psychologically from Dylan and her job, ropes of stress were unwinding from her.
For this one weekend, she could just be Leah. Not Leah the caretaker, teacher, grocery shopper, wage earner, or house cleaner.
She pondered the geometry of the autumn trees that formed a canopy above, then peered into the unending sky. “‘The infinite! No other question has ever moved so profoundly the spirit of man.’”
“Who are you quoting?”
“Mathematician David Hilbert. Even though we don’t know whether the universe is infinite or not, it’s certainly larger than my ability to comprehend. Every time I pause and take a moment to look—really look—into the sky, it reminds me of infinity.”
Sebastian propped up on his elbow, facing her.
Her mouth went dry because her view of him was much, much better than her prior (excellent) view of trees and sky.
His personality was both determined and good. When a determined man liked you, his affection was resolute. When a good man liked you, he tempted you to trust him. When she was with Sebastian, she felt as though she were the only thing in the world he saw or heard or cared about.
She needed to be very, very wary.
Even if she’d felt about men in the past the way she felt about Sebastian, she strongly suspected that her relationship with Sebastian would still have been a singular experience. There was nothing mundane or ordinary or predictable about him.
Her task this weekend: to enjoy his company without allowing herself to become serious about him in the detrimental way that her mom had become serious about her dad.
His position gave her an opportunity to study his masculine face, the lines of his shoulders and ribs, the way the strands of his hair fell.
She and Sebastian had both been cut off from their biological parents. Just how much of the tangible and intangible stuff that made them who they were had been passed to them by people who were not a part of their lives? “Did your mother have gray eyes?” she asked.
“She had blue.”
“Is there anything about your appearance that resembles hers?”