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“Yes. I want that,” I cry.
“I know, babe.” He shouts my name, and I feel him come inside me. He pulls out of me, and I fall flat, unable to move. He slaps my ass. “Get up, Feb. We’ve got places to be today.”
“Ugh, I know,” I say even though I could sleep for days.
We take a quick shower and dress for the day. I’m beginning to think this whole thing is a wild goose chase because of course the man here, Walter Cochran, is not my dad. We hit the aquarium and a fancy bistro where we ate outside on the patio.
To take my mind off it, Connall takes me on a haunted horse and carriage ride through Charleston. We ended up making out almost the whole time like teenagers, but it was worth it.
The more time I spend with this man, the more I fall in love with him. I don’t know what I’ll do when this trip is over. I don’t want it to be over. I never want my time with him to end.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CONNALL
Today is sort of melancholy for us both. This is not only the last man on the list, but our adventure is essentially over. Now, as far as I am concerned, we are not over, but I can already feel her pulling away from me. “Are you ready?” She asks, taking a deep breath. Looking at her, I can see the resignation in her eyes. She has lost hope somewhere along this trip even though her sister told her this doesn't have to be the end. They could do it next summer, but my girl is not buying it.
“That is the question I should be asking you, babe. Are you ready?” She nods her head and shrugs her shoulders.
“As ready as I will ever be.” She reaches her hand out and rings the doorbell. We wait a few minutes and just when we are sure no one is hope, we hear a man call out.
“Be there in a sec,” he says. A few minutes later a man opens the door and smiles at us. “Hi. How can I help you?” I can’t help but smile back because I have been to Charleston, South Carolina, and this is exactly how the people are. Gracious and smiling.
“Hello. My name is February, and I am looking for my biological father.” For a split second, his eyes get big.
“Your mom wouldn’t be Sherry Winthrop, would it?” I can see hope in his eyes, and I began to feel bad that he is going to be let down.
“I’m sorry no. The man I am looking for donated his specimen before enlisting in the service.” He nods his head and chuckles.
“Ah I see. Well no darling, I did not do that. My mother would have disowned me.” His laugh is contagious, and we both begin to chuckle. “Say, would you, too like to come in and have some tea?” Feb looks at me and then back at him, nodding her head.
“We would love to.” Entering his home is like walking into a war museum. He has uniforms hanging from mannequins, medals, and commendations encased in frames. On the table is A Farewell to Arms, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Art of War, and Their Finest Hour. When I look up I see he is watching Full Metal Jacket.
“Have a seat,” he says, walking to the kitchen. February and I are sitting in this room, taking it all in. “I hope you like chamomile.”
“We do,” February says, holding up her cup.
“I don’t get company often,” he says. “Not everyone feels comfortable sitting in the presence of a man with one leg. I think it makes them feel sorry for me, and then they don’t know what to say.” he leans over and sort of whispers it to us in jest, and we both chuckle.
“I don’t understand why. The fact that you found a way to go on and not forget your time in the service shows your strength,” I tell him to be honest. He smiles at me and sips his tea. He is a pleasant man, and he makes this last stop pleasant.
We spend another hour with him, and then his physical therapist comes, and we say goodbye. Once we are outside, she pulls out her phone and grunts before looking at me. “Well, now we really have to go.”
“We were leaving tomorrow anyway. Is something going on?”
“Yeah. Mr. Toshiba is in town and needs to do his meeting tomorrow instead of the next day.” Well, shit. She is right. It takes us twenty minutes to get to the hotel. In the meantime I have my plane getting ready to take off.
Once we have all of our stuff we are in the car heading to the airstrip when the phone chimes again. I hear her gasp beside me. “Babe, what’s wrong?” She lifts her phone showing it to me. I am confused. “Who is that?”
“According to the chat it is another sister named March.” Holy shit!
“That’s amazing, Feb. Does January know?”
“Yeah, she has been talking to her in the chat while we were with Mr. Logan.” We are pulling up to the plane. I help her out of the car and have the stewardess grab our bags. Once we are inside and seated, I pull her to my side and kiss her head.
“What else does it say about her?”
“I just asked her where she lives. She said Memphis.” Then, a lightbulb goes off.
