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"That's really optimistic of you," she said.
"Nope, that's just the way I feel."
"Then why didn't you tell Andy and Derrick when she contacted you?"
"Because the way I feel isn't the way they feel. See, we went on this big trip to Oregon once. Andy probably told you about it."
Shay nodded.
"Well, when that trip was over, that was the first time I saw her."
"You... but Andy said—"
"I never told them. We had a note that said she worked in this bakery, and we thought we'd gotten the information wrong, but we didn't. She was just going by a different name then. It was before she stopped trying to hide from us."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "I stopped back there before our flight on the last day and there she was. She'd dyed her hair black, but that only made her look like Derrick. It was impossible not to recognize her. I guess it was just harder for her to recognize me."
He thought back, remembering the rush that came over him in that first instant of recognition. Remembering her sad, lost eyes as she stocked muffins into the little display window. "I bought a muffin and left. She didn't recognize me."
"That must have been hard."
Matt frowned. "No, not really. It was a relief, really."
He turned his feelings over, trying to find some way of describing how freeing that moment had been. Luckily, he knew it wouldn't be hard for Shay to understand. After all, she knew abandonment, too. And loneliness. She knew heartbreak where family was concerned.
"It's like..." he started, paused, and then began again. "It's like in that moment something sort of clicked. I could be standing ten feet from this woman and she wouldn't feel a thing, just like I didn't feel a thing. Sure, she gave birth to me, but that doesn't mean there's some special bond between us. There might have been once, but she gave it up. There was no reason I should tie myself up with the string she left behind."
"And that's why you haven't spoken to her?"
"Not in person. We had a brief email correspondence, but when it came to actually looking her in the eyes…I haven't spoken to her because I don't need to. I'm already at peace. So is Andy, I think. And Derrick, in his way. She's the one who feels abandoned now. Maybe one day I'll take mercy on that fact and let her say her piece, but it's not today."
Shay watched him silently. Then, straightening in her seat, she said, "So, what now?"
"Now I guess I thank you."
"Thank me? For what?"
"Listening," he said, and a pang of awkwardness shot through his gut.
"Oh, you don't have to thank me for that," Shay said, and to his surprise, a slight tinge of pink colored her cheeks.
"I do, though. You're a good listener. And it's good, you know. To talk to someone who understands."
Shay nodded, and he started the engine up and then pulled back onto the street.
For a while, they drove on in silence, neither of them acknowledging the strange current between them. Still, it was everywhere, clinging to every breath he took. He was aware of her in a way he never had been before. Like somehow, without realizing it, he'd made things serious and deep.
And for some odd reason, that only made him want her more.
Then, when they were nearly to the house, Shay broke the silence.
"Why me?" she asked quietly. So quietly that he almost didn't hear her over the radio.
"What do you mean?"
"You... you didn't tell Andy or Derrick about your mother. Why would you tell me?"
