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“Well . . . you see, I love your son, and I’m hoping you still love him too, because he could really use your help.”
“Drake never wanted my help,” he growled, yet I heard the regret. “Goodb—”
“Wait,” I begged. “Please don’t hang up.”
I was met with a long, heavy breath, but he didn’t hang up.
“I know there is a lot of hurt to go around, and I won’t pretend to know even the half of it, but this I do know: your son needs you right now.”
“Is he sick or something?” Some worry crept into his tone.
“Not physically, no. But he’s sick about what happened between you. He blames himself for the demise of your family. So much so, he’s scared to have one of his own.”
“Don’t you have a son together?”
“Yes.” I was intrigued by how he knew that. I took it as a good sign—he was still interested in Drake’s life. I stood and stared out one of the attic windows. There were still a couple of reporters across the street. In front of the inn was a car with a security guard inside, ever watching over us. It was no wonder Calvin knew about Jameson and me. I felt like my entire life was currently on display. I thought to ask an interesting question. “Would you like to meet Jameson?”
He paused before he whispered, “Jameson.”
“I named him after your son.”
“The last thing Jameson,” he said his name reverently, “wanted was to be my son.”
“I think you might be mistaken.”
“I wish I were. Are we done here?” he asked abruptly.
“I don’t want to be, but I understand if my call has been painful for you. If so, I’m sorry.”
“It’s neither here nor there.”
“I don’t believe that. And if you change your mind, the offer stands for you to meet your grandson. Actually, we don’t live too far from you. I’m renovating the Old Rock Church Inn in Fair Hollow.”
“I’m familiar with the place,” he stammered. “Nora,” he could hardly say her name, “and I stayed there once.”
I knew Nora was Drake’s mother’s name. “You did? When?”
“I need to go.” He hung up.
I stood, dumbfounded, and stared at my phone. Drake’s parents stayed here? What a bizarre coincidence. I had to call George and see how far back they kept records. I knew there were some old guest books around here somewhere. I was buzzing with curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I felt like it was my mission to find out when they had stayed here.
I ran downstairs to tell Izzy before I called George, even though she’d warned me not to try and force a father-and-son reunion. I wasn’t trying to force one; I was just giving them a little push. I knew she didn’t understand, but Jameson and I needed Drake to figure this out. Jameson was missing Drake something fierce. The daily phone calls weren’t cutting it for him—or me. Even the private ones Drake and I would have after Jameson would go to sleep, where he would whisper things into the phone that made me blush and the butterflies in my stomach would reenact the “Do You Love Me” scene from Dirty Dancing. Which reminded me, Izzy and I really needed to watch that movie again.
I fanned myself, thinking of that yummy scene and dancing with Drake like that. Come to think of it, Drake and I were a lot like Johnny and Baby. Cute, perky girl lands the most desirable man in the country club—make that the world. How was that even possible? Believe me, I wasn’t the only person asking. There were online forums trying to answer that very question. For my sanity, I had to quit reading any of them. Especially the ones where my dear mother would get on and trash-talk anyone who dared to mess with her baby. And believe me, there were plenty willing to take their digs. One would think I had no redeeming qualities. Or that the only qualities that mattered to people were clothing choices and the size of their breasts. Drake had reminded me that there were just as many posts, or more, trashing people like Marissa. Which honestly didn’t fill me with any delight, like I thought it would have. It was a sad statement about our society. He’d begged me not to listen to the trolls. With that said, we might all need some therapy after this—or Valium.
I whipped around the spiral staircase to find George walking in the front door. I stopped on the second step from the bottom. “George, I was just going to call you.”
“I had a feeling.”
“Of course you did.” I smiled. Maybe George was Santa Claus or something. He had excused himself early from Christmas Eve dinner last year.
Izzy came out of the bathroom nearest the dining hall. She was installing the wainscot today. I should have been helping her. I would feel guilty later.
