She couldn’t hit the Block button fast enough. That was after Anita’s wedding, and she hadn’t heard from him since. Until this morning. He had called the office, and fortunately she’d been out showing a property to a client—the client who had just called her and changed her mind about purchasing a house.
“You’ve got that look again,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.
Her gaze focused on him. “What look?”
“The one you had when you were on the phone earlier. Same as the one that showed up on your face when Madge called.”
“Ugh.” Although thinking about her mother was better than musing about work or what she was going to do about Jack if he didn’t leave her alone. A tad better, but she’d take it.
He ran his thumb across the edge of the white-and-gray marble countertop. “I’m sorry she hurt your feelings.”
“She didn’t.” Harper jumped up from the chair and rushed to the stove, where she gave both the soup and pasta a stir.
“Sorry.” He took a big swig from the tea. “I shouldn’t have assumed that.”
Harper blew out a breath and turned around. “Don’t apologize. Honestly, my feelings aren’t hurt exactly, but...” She leaned against the counter. “How can parents forget their children exist?”
His head jerked up. “When you find out the answer, let me know. I haven’t talked to my folks since I was eight.”
“You haven’t?” Her brows shot up. “Oh, Rusty, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Not everyone does. Just a few people who grew up here.”
One thing she knew about the lifelong citizens of Maple Falls was that they could keep a secret if they set their minds to it. She’d found that out when Riley’s wayward mother had shown up a little more than two years ago, then disappeared just as quickly. Before that she hadn’t heard a peep out of anyone about the woman. “I’m sorry I brought up a sore subject.”
“Oh, I ain’t that sore.” He shoved back his long bangs, but they fell to the sides of his face again, almost obscuring his eyes. “Not anymore. Senior and G’ma did a good job raisin’ me and Amber. Better than our parents could have. Junior—that’s my dad—never sat still much. Didn’t like bein’ stuck in the garage. Really didn’t like it when my mom got pregnant with Amber when they were still in high school. They had the shotgun weddin’ and all that. By the time I was born three years later, Junior up and left us and Arkansas. Last I heard, he was livin’ in a camper and writin’ a travel blog.”
“You didn’t try looking him up?”
He shrugged. “Why would I? I never knew him, and I barely knew my mom. She met someone else with a kid and kept droppin’ us off with Senior and G’ma. Next thing I know, she’s married and moved to Chattanooga.”
“That’s awful.”
“It ended up all right. Senior and G’ma were the best. I miss G’ma, though. When she died, it was tough on all of us, especially Senior. But he’s livin’ with my sis now and happy as a pig in a wallow.”
She chuckled. Rusty’s southern drawl was as thick as it was charming.
The timer dinged for the pasta, and she got up and strained it, then added it to the soup. After putting a loaf of French bread into the oven to toast, she removed bowls from the cabinet and started to set them on the table.
“I can do that for you.” Rusty got up and took the bowls from her.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten at her kitchen table for supper. She and the Lattes had gotten together a few times for Sunday lunch here, but they usually congregated around the island while they ate takeout or something Tanner had prepared and sent with Anita. Her cooking skills weren’t anything near his, but she could make a decent soup.
Rusty set the table while she added the finishing touches to the soup, and when everything they needed was on the table, they started eating.
“This is good,” he said, dipping a piece of bread in the minestrone.
“Glad you like it. It’s a good way to use up leftover veggies.”
He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “I’ll have to remember that.”
As they ate, silence stretched between them. Not exactly awkward, but also not the easy camaraderie they’d had before. She also figured that since he’d told her about his family, she should at least fill him in on hers. “Madge and Don have decided to ‘find themselves.’”
He picked up his tea glass. “What does that mean?”
“I have no idea. When I was growing up, Don was always out of town. He’s a retired pilot and used to fly out of Memorial Field a lot.”
“Why do you call your parents by their first names?” he asked.
