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She couldn’t help imagining another picture just like this one. Only it was a tiny Addison up on the bar, grinning joyfully at the camera. And Steve—or at least what she imagined he would’ve looked like in his late twenties—leaned over, bumping his shoulder against hers.
Tears stung her eyes.
Steve came out of the backroom hauling two obviously heavy boxes, one stacked on top of the other. He froze for a moment when he spotted them, then graced them with his disarming smile. “You two must have an even bigger drinking problem than I do,” he joked with a wink, placing the boxes on the floor behind the bar. “Three nights in a row, and this time we’re not even open yet. Come back in about an hour, okay?”
For a split second, Addison considered simply leaving. It was all too soon. Mason would help her figure out a new plan once they left New Mexico behind, just as he promised.
Mason placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and whispered, “I believe in you.”
Taking a deep breath, she looked her father in their near-identical eyes and said, “Actually, do you have a minute? I was hoping to talk to you, if that’s okay.”
An emotion flashed through Steve’s eyes, but it disappeared too quickly for her to figure out what it was. Motioning for her to take a seat at one of the tables, he moved around the bar to join them. He waited until they all got their chairs back to the ground and sat down before asking, “What can I do for you?”
“I guess there’s no easy way to say this,” she said, grateful when Mason wrapped his large hand around hers. “But I’m...” Goddamnit, why was this so hard? Taking a deep, bracing breath, she forced the words out before she lost her nerve. “I’m your daughter.”
At first, Steve had no reaction at all, as if her words had truly stunned him. Then his lips spread into that Dennis Quaid smile she was growing to love. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Addison Walker.”
His smile turned a little bit sad. “Walker. I’ll admit, I wondered as soon as I laid eyes on you. You look so much like Sharon.”
Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes again. “You remember my mom?”
He chuckled. “She’s a hard woman to forget. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.”
“I don’t remember much about her, to be honest. She died when I was little.”
His smile disappeared altogether. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He swallowed, looking away and blinking rapidly. “Very sorry to hear it. I always hoped she was doing well.”
“Would you mind, you know...” She struggled to find the right words, not wanting to upset him even more. “If you’re willing, I’d really like to hear what you remember about her. About your time together.”
Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his slightly too-long hair. “Of course,” he said, a little strength returning to his voice. “It’s only natural you’d want to know.” He stayed quiet for a while after that, staring off toward the bar as he gathered his thoughts. At last, he looked back her way and smiled. “Sharon was the kind of woman everyone would notice the second she walked into a room. She had this energy—I don’t even really know how to describe it. Almost a star quality. Part of me always expected her to show up in the movies someday.”
“When did you meet?” Addison asked, picturing this charming, magical version of her mom she never knew.
“Nineteen eighty-five.” His gaze drifted over her shoulder, toward the front of the building. “She walked through that door like she owned the place, and the second I saw her, I knew she was something special. She just got to town and needed a job. I convinced my granddaddy to hire her as a waitress.”
Addison considered everything she knew about her mother. Her childhood in New York. Her drug addiction and death at thirty-three in Santa Fe. There were so many holes in her knowledge that she couldn’t follow the path in her mind. It didn’t make any sense. “What on earth was she doing here?”
“Wondered that for a while myself,” he said. “Weeks went by before I figured it out. Turns out she was driving across the country, on her way to LA. She stopped at the old Bella Vista Restaurant down the way to grab some dinner, and her car refused to start back up. She didn’t have any money to fix it.”
Addison’s breath caught in her chest. So many things had to go right—or, in this case, wrong—for her parents to meet. Her entire existence came down to a faulty car engine.
“Anyway, I was twenty-three,” Steve said with a little shrug. “I’d never even been outside New Mexico. And here was this gorgeous, charming woman from New York who had eyes only for me. I’m sure you can imagine how fast and hard I fell for her.”
That made Addison smile. She liked the idea that she came about as a product of love—even if that love may have been one-sided. “So what happened?” she asked, images running through her mind of how life could’ve gone if her mom stayed in Cedar Crest. God, why didn’t she just fucking stay? Everything would’ve changed.
“I don’t honestly know,” Steve said, sighing. “She stayed a few months after she got her car fixed. I was starting to hope she’d stay for good. Then out of nowhere, she told me she found a better job somewhere else, and she was leaving. She didn’t even seem to care—cold as ice. And that was that. I never imagined she might be pregnant.”
She could hear the heartache in his voice. Even after all this time, he cared for her mother deeply. It made her wish she could give him a hug. “She didn’t tell you where she was going?”
“Absolutely refused, and believe me, I begged. But she just got in her car and drove away.” Steve wiped tears out of his eyes. “Remember, it was 1986 at this point. It’s not like we had cell phones. The internet didn’t even exist yet. She just up and disappeared, and I never saw or heard from her again.”
“I’m so sorry,” Addison whispered, choking back her own tears. She’d abandoned them both.
Clearing his throat again, Steve asked, “Where did Sharon go when she left?”
“Santa Fe.”
