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His head moved in a brief bob of understanding; nothing really registered on his expression. It was nice not to feel judged, but she should know better than to lose control of her mouth, especially so soon after losing control of her body.
“What ‘bout your dad?”
She shrugged and picked at the label on her bottle. “Never knew him.”
“Could be out there.”
To a guy like Danny, the prospect of hunting the man who’d sired her probably made sense. A sense of pity came over her. He might look capable, but he was so naïve.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start, Danny.”
“Someone’s gotta know who he is. Hire like a detective or something, you know, like a private dick.”
Naïve and juvenile, if his snickering was any measure. Still, he was sweet in his own way.
“I don’t even know if he’s alive,” she said.
“Know where they met?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure my mother knew who he was.”
“Like mother like daughter.”
The impact of offense opened her mouth, but her glare relaxed when she saw his smile. The guy was an idiot, not in a bad way, he was just trying to cheer her up. Pushing away from the sink, Tess moved toward him.
“My mom did not accost men with condoms.”
“Sure,” he said, adjusting his head on his fist when she stopped at the end of the bed. “Otherwise, no you.”
Her focus descended to the label she’d picked at. “She had love once. I think.”
“Not your dad?”
Frustrated, Tess tried not to let her annoyance rise again, but it wasn’t easy. “I don’t have a damn clue who he was or who she loved.”
His brow creased in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
With her mouth closed, Tess inhaled through her nose. “I found love letters… I think they’re love letters,” she said, sinking down to the edge of the bed as he sat up. “Don’t know who they’re from, or even if they’re to her… I found them in her room. I know she treasured them.”
“This guy know she’s dead?”
The simplicity of such a question hit her hard.
Tess whipped around to look at him. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Guess that’s a no,” he said, slouching against the pillows. “Sucks for him, I guess… Wonder if you’ll get another one.”
Tess had no clue whether the letters were recent or old. From her interpretation, they were written sometimes years apart. The guy, this H, could be out there. He would have no way to know the object of his love was dead… if her mom was that object.
“Oh my God,” she whispered again and thrust the beer at him. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Why?” he asked, taking the beer and hold of her wrist too. “Whoever he is, you’re not gonna find him tonight.”
“Do you have a Yellow Pages?”
She didn’t blame his frowning recoil of surprise. “Heard of the internet?”
Tess shook her head. “I need an address… I don’t use the internet, I can’t.”
