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“She waited me out. There’s a very stubborn woman under that pretty veneer.” Avery smiled fondly.
Did Avery know how blessed she was? Funny they were talking about moms on this of all nights. “She seems really great.”
“She’s always been there for me. For all of us.”
Jealousy pricked Katie hard. Though Mama Jill had always been there for her, it was different. She’d been there for all her fosters—dozens of them over the years. And while that said worlds about the woman, it also made Katie feel just a little less special somehow. And the insecurity planted by a birth mother who’d basically abandoned her didn’t help either.
“Well, I’d better go see my last patient so I can get home.” Avery turned at the door and waggled her brows. “Mr. Darcy awaits.”
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” The group of about twenty chanted the prayer from a semicircle in a church basement that smelled of old books and coffee. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting unflattering light on the attendees.
Katie had arrived just in time for the meeting and grabbed the closest open seat to the door. The fiftyish woman on her left, who was not chanting, had already snagged the closest one. Her hands were clutched, white-knuckled, around the purse in her lap, as though she might bolt any moment.
Katie let her gaze drift to the front row where her mother sat. She could only see the back of her head, but Katie knew it was her. She’d seen her photo on the website, and she was the only other blonde woman in the room.
An old man with a flannel shirt—despite the stuffy basement—was reading something. Katie couldn’t focus on the words. Her heart was jackhammering in her chest, and her palms were damp even though her fingers were like blocks of ice.
Someone opened up the floor, and a twentysomething man stepped to the front. He wore khakis and a button-down shirt and looked entirely like someone who shouldn’t be here. Then again, the meeting was made up of a mix of people. All different ages, ethnicities. Some dressed up, others dressed down.
Katie wiped her palms down her pants, the man’s words fluttering loosely in her mind but not landing anywhere. Would her mother speak to the group? Would she hang around afterward?Would she welcome Katie personally? And if she did, would she recognize her daughter?
Of course she wouldn’t. Katie had only been five when she went into the foster care system. When she’d been old enough to understand, she was told by her caseworker that her mother was an addict, and her father’s identity was unknown.
Katie could only suppose that that made Spencer her half brother, but neither of them had ever acknowledged that or even cared really. They were all each other had.
And now he was gone.
They’d never searched for their mother. Why should they? If the woman wanted them, she would’ve tracked them down. It’s what a loving mother would do.
But one lonely night three weeks after Spencer’s death, Katie had searched for her mother on the internet. The woman wasn’t on any social media sites. But someone with her name directed an Alcoholics Anonymous group in Riverbend Gap. There was a staff page with photos, and voilà. There was the mother she barely remembered. The mother who’d left Spencer and her in the dust. Since then, Beth Wallace had apparently fought her addiction and gotten her life together enough to help others.
But she hadn’t sought out the kids she’d forfeited. Katie’s chest tightened in that familiar way, squeezing the life out of her, or so she imagined. Even though her mother had failed her, there was still a little girl inside who dreamed of being wanted again.
In February when Avery had reached out to her about the job in Riverbend, Katie decided it was a sign from God. She wanted to start over someplace else, why not here where she had actual family?
It seemed like such a foolish notion right now, with her mother sitting three rows up, completely unaware that her daughter was in the same town, much less the same room.
Another woman got up and spoke briefly about her life. Katiedidn’t hear a word. She fought the urge to flee. She’d waited months for this—she wanted to be settled, with a stable job and a home. Wanted her life to be sorted out before she came face-to-face with her mom. But hanging on the edge of that cliff had reminded her that life could change in an instant. So she decided to jump on her plan to get to know her mother from a distance.
But now that the moment was here, old insecurities rose to the surface. How foolish she’d been. Had she honestly thought she’d impress her mother so much that the woman would welcome her back into her life?
Her breath felt stuffed into her lungs. Heat prickled under her arms. This was pointless. This was another heartbreak, another rejection, waiting to happen.
She stood abruptly, skirted past the nervous woman, and darted out the door. Because Katie Loveland had already had enough heartache and rejection to last a lifetime.
8
Cooper needed an escape and he couldn’t think of a better place than the Trailhead Bar and Grill. On the restaurant side of things, the brisket and ribs were pretty convincing. But the lively bar area with the chatty bartenders and friendly neighbors also held appeal. He pulled his truck into an open spot in the gravel parking lot in the heart of town.
At seven o’clock on a Friday night, Cooper had no illusions about getting a table in the dining room. He was shouldering his way through the crowded lobby when he recognized a familiar face. Cooper had worked a summer on Wayne Curtis’s organic produce farm during high school, and they’d been friendly ever since. Wayne also happened to be the father of Cooper’s campaign opponent.
“Hey, Mr. Curtis,” Cooper said. “You’re looking well.”
The man’s rugged face beamed. “Cooper. Good to see you, son.And please, you gotta stop calling me Mr. Curtis. You’re making me feel old.”
His wife nudged him. “Weareold, dear. It’s good to see you, Cooper.”
“You too, Mrs. Curtis. How long’s the wait for a table?”
