The Passing Storm(67)

Yuna’s attention strayed to the center of the table.

The lacquered box caught the sun’s golden light. The tiny rivers of glass sparkled.

Drawing the box near, Rae smoothed her palm across the pleasingly glossy surface. “Lark must’ve found it last summer.” She dimly recalled a sweltering August day—rushing to leave for the office—and Lark trudging out in her pajamas, moody and needing a project to occupy the hours. “Near the end of summer, Lark was incredibly bored. I suggested she spend the day organizing her bedroom for the upcoming school year. Or help Connor with chores around the house. Later, she called me at work—she’d been rummaging around in the attic. I assumed she was sorting through some of my mother’s old things. My dad wasn’t with her. If he’d gone up to keep her company, he would’ve recognized the box.”

“And told her to get your permission before taking it,” Yuna supplied.

“I’m sure she began devising a plan to contact Griffin soon after.”

“You know, this might explain why Katherine has been less than kind toward you. From her perspective, she has good reason.”

“Such as?”

“Rae, she was dating Griffin.”

The news came as a surprise. “When?”

“Last year.”

“How long were they dating?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Not long. But if Lark was bragging to Quinn that she’d found her father, what if she also told Katherine’s daughter, Stella? Or Griffin’s niece?”

Lark was gone, but Rae’s instinct to protect her daughter remained fully intact. “Even if she was bragging to the other girls, why would it matter? Yes, Lark was friends with Stella and Jackie, and she may have told them. But they treated her like a second-class friend. Why would they care if she was bragging?”

“Think about it. If Lark told them while Griffin and Katherine were dating, it might’ve irked Stella. She’s a nice enough girl, but she’s the Queen Bee.”

“All that Thomerson wealth—she’s not used to having competition.”

Yuna nodded. “If Lark announced that Griffin was her father . . . it probably didn’t go down well. Stella wouldn’t have liked another girl boasting about the man dating her mother. It might’ve embarrassed her.”

Dazed, Rae fell back in her chair. “Lark didn’t want to attend the slumber party,” she murmured. She looked up suddenly. “I knew she was on the outs with one of her girlfriends.”

“Lark wouldn’t tell you who she was fighting with?”

The question made Rae shake her head with bemusement. “Wait until Kameko reaches adolescence. There’s lots of stuff your teenage daughter won’t share. You’ll do your best to dredge up the intel on all sorts of issues, but you’ll get nowhere fast.”

Yuna rolled her eyes. “Gosh, I can’t wait.”

“All I knew was that Lark had a falling-out with one of the girls. A disagreement over who-knows-what. Girls that age have the silliest battles.”

“And the way I heard it, Katherine wasn’t happy when Griffin broke it off.” Yuna’s shoulders lifted in a show of unease. “Last year, when I heard they were going out . . . should I have told you?”

“Of course not,” Rae said too quickly. Regret feathered through her, along with the rush of “what if” questions she’d learned to suppress. Pushing them away, she added, “My relationship with Griffin ended in high school. Months before we graduated. I’m not even sure when he left for Ohio University—fast, is what I heard eventually. I guess he spent the summer working down in Athens before starting classes in the fall.”

“You’re sure it doesn’t matter?”

“Yuna, I last dated Griffin sixteen years ago. We’re different people now. This morning I humiliated myself in front of a man who’s basically a stranger. I’m sure he thinks I’m rude and obnoxious.” She picked up her coffee, her emotions in flux—about Griffin, but even more so, Lark. Was it possible she’d argued with Stella over Griffin? The thought made her unexpectedly sad. “I am a dope. This morning I accused him of encouraging my daughter. He hadn’t, obviously. When Lark first showed up in his office, it must’ve thrown him.”

Yuna’s lips pursed. The question she was too courteous to ask floated between them.

Was Lark correct? Was Griffin her father?

She’d never pose the question. For good reason—she was Rae’s dearest friend. Their bond was airtight. And she understood: if Rae had wanted to share the name missing on her daughter’s birth certificate, she would’ve done so before now.

Instead, Yuna appraised the lacquered box with palpable respect. “I didn’t open it. Griffin wasn’t keen about discussing the contents. I can tell you aren’t either.”

“No, I’m not.” Rae took a meager sip of her coffee. “I do need to apologize to Griffin.”

How did one compose an apology that was years overdue? It seemed an impossible task.

“Leave it for now. Griffin won’t think less of you. For whatever the reason, you’ve both gone out of your way to avoid each other. What happened this morning doesn’t change anything.” Yuna offered a comforting smile. “You’re both good people. Lark’s fairy tale no longer matters. It’s best to move on.”