“My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimers when I was in college and she had to be moved into a special facility. I quit school to care for my brother, who was still in high school, and because the money earmarked for college was needed for Mom now.”
“How was there money for him to go to college and not you?”
He was much too perceptive. She wasn’t ready for this. But how would he understand? How could anyone really understand? She let out a long slow breath and stared into her glass. Holding it by the stem, she tilted slightly and watched as the wine clung to the inside, seeping back down in narrow rivulets. “It’s sort of complicated and a really long story.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
“It probably won’t make any sense to you.”
“I’m also fairly intelligent. Sorry if you hadn’t noticed.” One side of his mouth turned up as if to encourage her.
“Well,” she said, “then you really won’t understand. All the academic types think it’s nonsense.”
“I didn’t say I was an academic type.”
She shuffled through her thoughts, a little muddled from the wine, searching for that little nugget to satisfy his curiosity in order for them to move on to something else. Anything else. This just wasn’t the topic of conversation for a first date. And way too deep for a one-nighter.
She took a bigger sip this time. The wine warmed the back of her tongue and slid down her throat. “My family—” oh, what the hell “—I told you my father died, right? Well, he went out one evening and never came back. I was ten years old at the time.”
“He ran out on you?” Dom looked up from the stove.
“That’s what everyone thinks, including the police. They found his wallet, his car, his credit cards, his money. The only thing missing was his driver’s license. He just disappeared that day. Never came home.”
“But you don’t think he left.” The man was very perceptive.
“No.”
Dom was quiet for a moment, probably wishing he’d never asked about all this in the first place. It made most people uncomfortable. She knew that. That’s why she hardly ever spoke about it. So why were they talking about it now?
“How long have you—” She tried to change the subject, to save him the trouble, but he interrupted with more questions.
“So, what does that have to do with you having to quit school when there’s money for your brother to attend?”
“That’s where it gets really complicated. Why don’t we talk about something simple and non-depressing, like what you’re fixing for dinner.”
“Salmon. Now please continue. I’d like to hear more.”
He reached a hand out and touched hers. His eyes, though piercing, had a kindness behind them, prompting her to say more than she might have otherwise.
“My father’s disappearance is just one of many in my family. It’s happened in each generation for as long as we’ve been keeping track...hundreds of years. My cousin was the latest to disappear last year.”
“What do you think is going on?” He returned to the stove, his voice stilted, almost robotic. Way too much information. She needed to back it down.
“I don’t know.” She studied his profile, watching as his jaw muscle flexed over and over, like he was chewing on his thoughts. He twisted one of his thumb rings with a forefinger. Why had she felt compelled to tell him? He was clearly uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry. I should never have shared all this with you. Maybe I should just?—”
“No.” He said it with such force that it startled her. “I really want to know more. You think your father’s fate awaits you, don’t you? And that’s why you really quit school.”
He got it. He really understood.
He gave her the kind of smile that made her ache inside. “I...I suppose so. Why waste the money? College represents the future, so with Mom’s illness and Stacy going missing, I decided to stop fooling myself and get realistic. I know that must sound terribly pessimistic to you.”
“Not at all. You’re just living the best way you know how within the framework you were given. But your brother obviously doesn’t feel the same way.”
“My brother? Corey is one of those people who doesn’t worry about much. All the weed, I guess.”
“Maybe he smokes to drown out the worry.”
