Until There Was You(86)

“What? I have no sense of fashion? I already know that.”

Gretchen didn’t laugh. “This is serious.”

The sun was bright outside, and the sound of wind chimes could be heard over the springtime birdsong…a sharp contrast to the somber look on Gret’s face. Posey sat up. “What’s the matter?”

Gretchen took a deep breath. “Posey, you never tried to find your birth parents, right?”

“Right.”

“Why not?”

Posey took a deep breath. “Well, Max and Stacia are my parents. I mean, I wondered about my biological parents, sure. I’m glad they gave me up. But even if I wanted to find them, it was a closed adoption. I can’t contact my birth mother, she can’t contact me.”

Gretchen looked at her steadily. “Posey…she actually did.”

Posey blinked. “What?” She shook her head. “No, she didn’t.”

“She sent you a letter.”

“No! She didn’t. What are you talking about, Gretchen?”

Gret took a deep breath. “Okay, this might make me look like a sneak, but…well…” She shook her head briskly. “It was when I was living with you guys senior year. A few weeks before we graduated, Aunt Stacia got a letter. From an attorney. She was really upset, and I thought…I thought it might’ve been about the accident or something.”

All that pasta from lunch suddenly felt like cement in Posey’s stomach. “My mom wouldn’t keep something like that from me.”

Gretchen looked at the floor. “I waited till everyone was out, and I know I shouldn’t have, but I thought it was about my mom and dad. So I snuck into their room and found the letter. It was in the drawer with all her girdles. So…I read it. Well, I read part of it. As soon as I realized what it was about, I put it back. And I swear, I never looked at it again.”

“What did it say?” Posey asked. Her voice sounded high and strange, and her heart was clattering in her chest.

Gretchen squeezed her hand. “Well, your birth mom was in college when she got pregnant. There was some stuff about her and your father. And some family medical history.”

“Anything bad?”

Gretchen shook her head. “I don’t remember the specifics, but no. Normal stuff.”

Posey closed her mouth and forced herself to swallow. “Anything else?”

Gretchen was quiet for a minute. “I only read a few lines. Maybe I should’ve told you a long time ago, but if Max and Stacia didn’t want you to see it…I don’t know. It wasn’t really my business. But I just thought you should know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LIAM WAS A LITTLE torn. Nicole had canceled her afternoon with the Tates, claiming too much homework, and while he didn’t mind the fact that he wouldn’t have to see his in-laws today, he’d been planning on seeing Cordelia while Nic was out. He could cancel—Cordelia wouldn’t mind—but since Nicole was indeed in her room surrounded by books, maybe he’d go anyway. Nic was always telling him to get a life, after all. And it wasn’t like they were doing anything together right now.

And he did want to see Cordelia.

He hadn’t expected her to be so…fun. Or sweet. She was unpredictable; one minute she’d be cheerfully insulting him, the next, looking at him with those big soft eyes. She baked cookies the other day, which was just so not her that he could tell it was a big deal.

“How are they?” she’d asked.

He chewed assessingly. “Not the worst I’ve ever had.”

Her eyes narrowed, and before Liam saw her move, she’d snatched the cookie from his hand and tossed it in the trash. “No more for you, ingrate.”

Liam looked at his now-empty hand. “Really?” He grinned. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“I am. You want another cookie, you have to come through me.”

They’d ended up doing it on the kitchen table.

And that was another thing. Liam hadn’t expected the sex to be so, well…mind-blowing. Here he was, a good month into seeing someone—granted, no strings attached—and was feeling a little bit like a randy teenager, walking around with a goofy smile on his face.

The only problem was that he suspected Cordelia might be getting a little…attached.

He walked down the hall and knocked on his daughter’s door. “Nic, how much longer are you gonna be?”

“Dad, this paper is killing me! Can you, like, stop interrupting?” She glared at him from her desk. Audrey Hepburn posters had replaced Edward the Vampire, he was happy to see, and the clock from Sweetie Sue’s glowed above her bed.

“Well, I just wondered if you wanted to do something later.”

“No. This will take the rest of the day. I may as well just chain myself here and, like, work until I pass out, and you can just throw some raw meat in here. This teacher is insane! She thinks we have nothing better to do than study!”

An excellent teacher, clearly. “Okay, well, I thought I might run out for a couple hours,” he said.

“Do it. Leave me alone, or I’m going to fail everything.”

“You okay here by yourself?”

“Dad!” The three syllables of doom, followed by a huffy sigh. “I’m not six years old, you know.”