Discovering (Lily Dale #4)(14)



He doesn’t answer that.

She does. “I know they weren’t. They were still in love.”

“Yeah, well . . . nobody’s perfect.”

“Nobody’s perfect?”Calla’s eyebrows shoot up. “What kind of thing is that to say?”

“It’s true.”

She hates his reasonable tone of voice, hates that he isn’t outraged with her. How can he sit here discussing it like they’re talking about her mother switching brands of laundry soap?

“You can’t possibly think it was okay, what my mother did?”

“There are a lot of worse things,”he says flatly, “a mother can do. Much worse.”

Oh.

Right.

“I’m sorry,”she tells Jacy, whose mother, she heard, neglected and abused him. Calla doesn’t know the details, and she hasn’t felt comfortable asking. She lost custody. Signed adoption papers to give him away to someone else.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because . . .”She shrugs. She can’t say it. He doesn’t need to hear it.

Here comes that defensive expression of his again, rolling in like storm clouds. She’s seen it before.

She touches his arm.

Ordinarily, he might have shaken her off, or at least, have failed to respond.

But they’ve turned a corner. He looks up at her and nods, as though he knows exactly what she’s thinking.

“You can’t change what happened to me, Calla. You can make a lot of things better for me. But not the past.”

“I know . And the same goes for me. You can’t really blame me for wanting to protect my dad from what she did.”

“I don’t blame you. Maybe you’re protecting yourself, too.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I mean . . . maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want to know the truth.”

“Me? I want to know . Of course I want to know .”

“Okay.”

“I went all the way to Florida,”she informs him, “and I almost got myself killed, because I want to know .”

“Okay.”

“You don’t think I’m the least bit curious about the fact that I might have a sister or brother?”

“You didn’t read the rest of her e-mail.”

“Not yet. But I was going to. I was going to . . . tonight.”

Except that she wasn’t.

Not tonight.

Maybe not even tomorrow.

It’s still so raw.

“You don’t have to find out the rest of the story, you know,”Jacy says quietly. “It is what it is. You can just leave the e-mail alone and remember your mother the way she was.”

“Except that I have a half sibling somewhere in this world.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“They had a baby together.”

“Did Darrin raise it?”

“It’s possible. But Darrin’s dead. I don’t know how I can find out now.”

“You could ask his parents about it.”

“His parents? You think they know? Do you think my grandmother knows, too?”

“You won’t find out unless you ask.”

“I know, but if I ask—and they didn’t know—then . . . they’ll know .”

He’s silent.

“I guess I could ask,”she says slowly.

“You said you wanted to go talk to the Yateses this week, before they leave for the winter, and tell them Darrin’s dead. I’ll go with you. We’ll do it together.”

“Is that really up to us, though?”She thought it was, back when she found the article on the Internet that stated Darrin had died last June in an unsolved murder. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Jacy gives her a level look. “We’re probably the only two people alive who know that Tom Leolyn was really Darrin Yates. Are we really going to let those old people wonder for the rest of their lives whatever happened to their son?”

“No! I wouldn’t do that.”She hesitates. “I’m just afraid to face them. Remember when they told us that they sense he’s still on the earth plane? How are they going to react when they find out they’re wrong?”

“It won’t be easy for anyone, but I’ll go with you, like I said the other day. We’ll show them the death notice from the newspaper, and we’ll tell them what you found out.”

“What, we’re going to just march over there and break the news that their son is dead? What do we do when they start screaming in grief? Because that’s what people do when someone they love dies, you know .”

That’s what I did.

She doesn’t say that part, though; just presses her fingertips to her temples, telling Jacy, “I have a pounding headache, and I can’t even think straight.”

He wraps his arms around her again. “That’s no surprise. You’ve been through a lot.”

She swallows hard. There’s a lump in her throat.

Everything feels wrong in her life— everything but Jacy. Nothing is familiar— not this relationship. Not even herself. What happened to sweet, nice, easygoing Calla?

She’s turned into a stranger. And so has her mother.

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