Page 91 of Blue Line

Hadley.

I scrub a hand down my face. I wish I could yell at her, But I love you. I want you and only you. I won’t find her one day because I’ve already found her.

Except Hadley’s not here, and I am alone in life once again. This time, it’s my fault. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix this with her, and that absolutely shreds my heart.

With shaking hands, I drink my coffee, leaning against the counter and staring at the engagement ring, until it’s time for the call with my cousin. Reluctantly, I make my way into the living room and take a seat on the couch.

It’s not that I don’t want to talk to her. It’s just the timing sucks, and I am not in the mood. But this will be good. At least I hope so.

“Hi, Donna,” I greet the woman on my phone screen when she picks up.

I search for a resemblance to my dad, but there is none. Where my dad and I could have been twins with the same black hair and gray eyes, Donna has curly red hair and blue eyes.

“Hi, Weston. Nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“Same.”

“I dug out the family tree my dad made when I was younger.” She holds up a sheet of paper with writing on it that I can’t make out. “I figured I’d scan it and send it to you so you can see your other relatives.”

“Thanks.”

“I searched through all of my grandfather’s things—I have a few boxes in my attic—but I didn’t find much in the way of pictures or mementos of his brother.” Her smile drops. “I’m sorry. I asked my dad if there were any other boxes stashed anywhere, but he said I had all of them.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

She nods, and we lapse into silence. I rack my brain for something to talk about.

“You said you were a teacher? What do you teach?”

“Second grade.”

She tells me about the school she teaches at and how her husband is a mechanic, and I try to listen, try to care, but I find that I don’t.

Don’t get me wrong, Donna is a very nice lady, and she’s been super helpful with answering my questions about my grandfather. But I don’t feel any connection to her. She kind of feels like the librarian at the library. They’re nice, they point you in the right direction, but they’re just doing a job.

“That’s cool,” I tell her when she takes a breath.

Once again, we lapse into silence, and I decide it’s time for this call to end.

“Thank you for all of the information and for answering all of my questions. I appreciate it,” I say.

“Of course.”

“I won’t keep you. Maybe we can chat again soon.”

Maybe. If she calls me, I’ll answer, but I’m not planning to go out of my way to talk to her. I don’t feel much of a connection, and it feels like she’s not that interested in getting to know me any better. She didn’t ask me any questions during our chat. And while that hurts, I get it. She already has a family. She wasn’t expecting to find someone else. And I’m just a cousin. Not like I’m a brother she didn’t know about.

“Of course. If you think of anything else you want to know, just ask, and I’ll try to answer your questions.”

“Thanks. Have a good one.”

“You take care now, Weston.”

I end the call and drop my phone onto the cushion next to me, tipping my head back and staring at the ceiling. So much for finding family. I mean, I found family, but it didn’t have the effect I thought it would. I thought that after all of our emails, this call would be the next step in building a relationship, but it wasn’t.

No girlfriend.

No family.