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"Oh, I'm sorry."
"I would be shaken to the core to find out he wasn't really dead," Kade added, meeting my gaze. "Maybe you should think of this as a second chance."
"I want to think that way, but to be honest, I feel anger more than anything else. Then I feel guilty because I'm not thinking it's a fantastic miracle that she's alive. It would make sense if she'd had amnesia for twenty years and had no idea that she'd left her family behind. But since she had my number in her phone, I don't think that's what happened." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's complicated."
"It is," he agreed. "You'll figure it out." He grabbed the bat and stood up. "I need to take off. I'll be downstairs if you run into any problems."
"Okay." As I got up and walked him to the door, I felt oddly disappointed that he was leaving. I would have liked to hear more about my mother. But he was gone before I could formulate any more questions. I wondered about his sudden and hasty exit. He'd seemed to be happy chatting about his relationship with my mother and then he'd just decided it was time to go.
I let out a sigh. I had enough to worry about without trying to figure out the darkly handsome man who lived downstairs. I locked the door behind him and returned to the family room. Moving to the bookshelves, I trailed my finger along the titles of dozens of novels. I wanted something more personal. I wanted photo albums. I wanted a diary or a journal. I wanted to know who my mother was and what she'd been doing for the last twenty years. But there was nothing on these shelves.
I walked over to the desk and opened her laptop computer. I put in the same password as her phone, but it didn't open.That would have been too easy, I thought with a sigh.
As I considered my next move, my phone rang. It was my stepmother, Vicky. "Hello?" I said, wondering why Vicky was calling me. We rarely talked unless it was about some family function.
"Have you spoken to your father, Brynn?"
"No. I left him a message, but he hasn't called back."
"That's not good. Ross hasn't returned any of my calls or texts since Tuesday. I'm very concerned. Dani and Steve haven't heard from him, either. I know your father is busy with work, but he usually responds to a text, especially from you or Dani."
"Not always right away," I reminded her. "I've waited days for him to return a text or a call. When he's working, he gets wrapped up in what he's doing and forgets about the rest of his life."
Vicky let out a troubled, angry sigh. "I don't appreciate being forgotten."
I knew that. Vicky had always needed a lot of attention, and for the most part my dad seemed to give her what she needed. "I'm sure he'll call you tomorrow."
"Probably. I just feel like something is off. I can't explain it. He's been…secretive lately. It started after he went to New Orleans for a few days. I thought maybe the trip brought back sad memories. It was the first time he'd gone there since your mother died, since he'd spent a week trying to find her."
My muscles tightened as I debated whether I wanted to tell Vicky my mother was alive. But I couldn't tell her before I spoke to Dani or my father. "Do you think my parents were happy?" I asked instead.
There was a pause at the other end of the phone. "That's a strange question. Of course they were happy. They were very much in love." Vicky paused. "I've always known that Ross could never love me the way he loved Kim. But that's okay because I loved her, too. I was devastated when she died."
I wanted to scream that she hadn't died, but Vicky could not be the first one I told. "I have to go, Vicky. I'm sure my dad is fine."
"Will you tell me if he calls you? Will you ask him to get in touch with me?"
"I will," I promised, then ended the call. It did make me uneasy that my dad had dropped out of touch with everyone. Maybe he did know something. Hopefully, it was just work that was preoccupying him, and he'd call one of us back soon.
With my phone in hand, I walked up the stairs to my mom's bedroom. I moved into the small walk-in closet and looked at her clothes.
As I sifted through the hangers of tops and dresses, my breath caught in my chest. Some clothes still had tags on them, and the tags bore a familiar logo…Two Sisters Boutique.
My mother had clothes from our shop. She must have ordered them online. I couldn't imagine she'd been into the store.But how did she know about it?
If she'd gone to the website, she would have read the section about Dani and me, about how and why we'd started the company, although it was really all about why Dani had started it. I'd just been there to fulfill the "two" part of the Two Sisters.
I drew in a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed again with emotions. As I searched through the rest of the clothes, the new items were replaced by older tops and dresses. At the very end of the rack was a thick red sweater. An old memory flashed through my head. My mother had worn that sweater the day she left. She'd hugged me hard, and I remembered how soft and warm she'd felt.
Pulling the sweater off the rack, I pressed it to my face. I could still smell the scent of gardenias that came from her favorite perfume. It was a scent that had comforted me throughout the years. Tears filled my eyes. It was too much. It was all too much.
I took the sweater into the bedroom and laid down on the bed, wrapping it around me. I felt exhausted, emotionally spent. I closed my eyes, and as the darkness enveloped me, I let myself think her arms were wrapped around me, the way they'd been when I was a little girl.
It was the only thing I would allow myself to think. Everything else had to wait…
CHAPTERFIVE
I wokeup in the middle of the night to the sound of a dog barking. For a second, I didn't know where I was. Panic ran through me, but as the furniture in the room came into focus, I remembered everything that had happened. I rolled over in bed as the dog's barking got more frantic. I wondered where his owner was. I scrambled out of bed to look out the window. Then I heard a loud crash outside.
