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“We just crossed over into North Carolina. Says we have around an hour to go.” She looks green all of a sudden. “You all right?”
“I didn’t think we were so close.”
“Yeah.”
“Should I use the bathroom here?” Sarah looks behind her to the convenience mart, which is pretty rundown.
“If you aren’t desperate, we’ll definitely be able to find a place when we get there.”
“Someplace slightly cleaner, maybe better lit?”
“Yeah, this does give off aDeliverancevibe.”
“Never saw that one.”
“Me neither. I just know it’s a cultural reference for a place you don’t want to be.”
“I’d ask if you want me to take the wheel but I can’t drive shift.”
“My uncle swears everyone should have that in their life skills toolbox, but since there are hardly any manual cars around I look at it as more of a lost art than a necessary skill. And it works to my advantage because no one can ask to borrow this beauty.”
“You’re a glass half-full kinda guy after all.”
“Ha…You’re the first person to accuse me of that.”
Chapter Twenty-One
SARAH
I’ve been watching the dashboard clock count down to our ETA the way I imagine a special forces operative watches the timer on a detonator.
What was I thinking, just taking off without a plan? This is crazy. I set off like a badass, intent on getting answers, and now I’m praying to God this woman who gave birth to me doesn’t answer when we arrive on her doorstep.
“Darling Drive,” he says as we take the exit for Durham off the highway. “I’d say it’s definitely a nice place but I live on Misty Harbor Lane and I’m not that close to the water.”
“Yeah, let’s hope for a darling, though, ok?”
“Oh, I’m ‘a hoping, I’m ‘a praying…”
I can feel my heart begin to race when we pull up outside a townhouse that sits amid several identical two-story structures. He must sense my unease because he reaches over and takes my hand, stroking his thumb over the top. It’s soothing, and makes me realize that Liam is, if nothing else, my friend.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For coming along on this crazy ride, and for…everything.”
“You got it.” He looks away when he adds, “No place else I’d rather be.”
“So, what do you think of this place?”
“Looks like it could be students, but there’s a mix,” he says, taking note as a middle-aged couple walks by holding hands. After waiting a beat during which I make no move to get out of the car, he says, “Shall we?”
“Yeah, I guess.” But when we get to the door, I can’t do it. “You knock, all right? And you ask for her. I mean, she knows she had a daughter, so if you knock we won’t get a door slammed in our faces.”
“Let’s expect a positive reception.”
“Expect the best, prepare for the worst.”
