They’d been married?
Legs like Jell-O, I melted to the floor, unable to peel my eyes away. My parents had been married. They’d had a child together. Something thick and slimy settled in my stomach, leaving the heavy aftertaste of unwanted truth sour in my mouth. I stared at the quilt, shards of my fragile reality splintering and cutting into me with ragged edges.
I’d been unwanted—not by a mother who was too young or too messed up or too whatever to care for a baby like I’d always told myself. I hadn’t been saved from a drug-addict or born in prison to a woman who’d done the only thing she could do. I’d forgiven her because I always thought she hadn’t had a choice. She’d wanted a better life for me. It wasn’t her fault I’d ended up homeless and abused. She’d tried her best.
No, this was worse. Much worse. My mother hadn’t been trying to save me from anything. She hadn’t been on the run, or in danger. She’d had a home. A husband. A mother-in-law who, up until this moment, I had considered the most wonderful person in the world.
No wonder Ida didn’t tell me. It wasn’t just my mother who’d abandoned me. It was all of them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, all of my imagined scenarios and fabricated explanations crumbling under one undeniable truth.
No one wanted me.
Had guilt driven Ida to seek me out in her final days? My stomach soured. Lava building, churning, smothering. I stalked out of the room. Before I could gather myself, I stomped down the stairs, out the front door, across the overgrown grass, and up the concrete driveway to the house next door.
Pristine, the Queen Anne boasted sunny yellow fish-scale siding and smiled down from its pedestal of prosperity, proud of the sheltered, healthy relationships stored inside.
I hated it. And all it represented.
A life I should have had. A life that hadn’t been stolen from me so much as I’d been deemed unworthy. Seething, I stood there both wanting to berate Ryan for dragging my stupid hopeful heart into this game and wanting to demand he give me everything that belonged to me so I could get out of Maryville, Mississippi, and never look back. I didn’t belong here with these close-knit people anyway.
The front door suddenly opened, and the object of my rage stepped out, whistling a tune as cheery as his polished life.
Ryan stopped short when he saw me standing in his yard like a steaming potato. Lumpy, sizzling, and too hot to handle.
His eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”
I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms until it hurt. “I’m not playing this stupid game.”
His dark eyebrows drew together, and he bounded down the brick steps. “What game?”
I tilted my head back to look at him, the concern in his chocolate eyes melting a little of my fury. “You heard me.” I pushed loathing into my words, expecting him to shy back. Admit I wasn’t worth the trouble. Give me what I needed so he could be rid of me.
Before I could move, Ryan placed his hands on my shoulders, and my breath faltered. I didn’t let people touch me. But the weight of his touch felt…strangely comforting.
I shook him off.
He regarded me evenly and waited, though I was pretty sure it was his turn to talk.
That was how conversations worked. One person talked. The other responded. This man waited calmly, his expression nonjudgmental. I both hated how long it took him to respond and oddly, at the same time, found the opportunity to sort through my raging emotions beneficial.
Finally, I groaned. “Look, I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to go on some convoluted trail of discovery only to end up where I already know I’m headed. It’s a waste of time.”
He nodded slowly. Weird. I expected argument. Or for him to say I was overreacting. Instead Ryan cocked his head and stared at me, but not in a creepy way. In a way that made my insides turn to slime. No. That was gross. Not slime. More like hot butter or—
“I understand.”
His words jarred me out of my weird thoughts. He did? Just like that? “What?”
Ryan lifted his hand like he wanted to comfort me again but thought better of it and ran his fingers through his hair instead. His words came out slow and measured. He spoke like the kind of man who put thought into things before he shared them. “It must be hard, wanting answers when the only way you can get them is to jump through a bunch of hoops. Doesn’t seem fair.”
Huh. My shoulders slumped, the last of the fire slipping out through my sweaty fingers just like that. I took a step back from him. How had he diffused my emotions so quickly? “Yeah.”
His wide mouth tilted up into a smile that further set me off balance. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
How on earth did you argue with a guy like that? I expected a fight. He wanted to buy me coffee. I wrinkled my nose. “You have a coffee shop in this town?”
He laughed, a sound bold and rich like the kind of stew that stuck to your ribs. “Kind of. Really it’s a sweets shop, but they make good coffee.”
The temptation to go with him surprised me. What was wrong with me? I shook my head. Get it together. “Maybe another time. Thanks.”
I shifted, unable to meet his probing gaze. Now what?
Ryan wore cowboy boots. Ones with a square toe and plenty of scuff marks. What did this man do for a living? Why had Ida given him the instructions? A more unnerving thought than the usual rambling ones jumped in and strangled my breath.
How much did he know?
I pulled my shields around me and fortified myself, looking up to meet his gaze. “Why do I have to go through all of this?”
His warm gaze held purpose. “Ida wanted it that way.” Irritation bit at me, but his sweet smile kept it from lashing out. “And one thing I know about Ida. She always had her reasons. Most of the time, those reasons were pretty soaked in prayer. Do you trust her enough to find out?”
Did I? I loved Ida, even as little as I knew her. She’d been kind to me. Supportive. And she’d found me when she hadn’t had to. She’d spent her final days working on something. For me.
I hated being ruled by emotions. They took over, fickle and shifting like a boat with big sails and no anchor. In the course of a few minutes I’d gone from curious to devastated to furious and now to pitiful, feeling guilty that I couldn’t trust Ida through the first clue. What a mess.
The wind danced over the swaying grass, ruffling it around Ryan’s shoes and my…ugh. Bare feet. I wrapped my arms around my waist and turned away from him, looking back at Ida’s house in the glittering sunlight of the late May afternoon.
Maybe she had a reason after all. The truth might not be pretty, but I’d handled plenty of ugly before. I needed to know so I could get past it. So I could move on and figure out a way to have a life.
“I’m too old for treasure hunts,” I said, letting my gaze sweep over the manicured lawn and down the oak-lined sidewalk of this quaint little neighborhood. Branches of old trees swept down toward a lazy street, concealing merry birds calling to one another.
Ryan laughed and, strangely, the sound coaxed a smile from my puckered lips and drew my gaze to find his. His eyes danced. What would it be like to have eyes that held that much light? Light untainted by a mean world filled with people who hid pointed teeth behind their varnished smiles?
I shook myself. I didn’t know this man. He seemed genuine. He was certainly handsome. But sometimes the ugliest souls hid behind the prettiest faces. I reminded myself never to let down my guard and leveled a prickly stare on this unnervingly confusing man.