“Well, that’s just dumb,” Maggie said. “And it makes no sense.”
Betty sighed and stepped back, ushering them out the door with one hand. “You be careful, girls. You dig deep enough, you’re bound to find things you don’t like.”
With that, they left, cold and unsatisfied despite the May sunshine that poured over them.
A moment later, they got into the car and shut the doors, silence pressing between them.
“Have you ever heard that name before?” Jo Ellen asked. “Cotton Ramsey?”
“Never in my life,” Maggie said. “I thought I knew everything about Roger. Turns out I know…nothing.”
“We’ll tell Peter about it,” Jo Ellen said. “See what he can dig up.”
Maggie started the car, noticing that her hands trembled, making the mottled surface of her skin look old and fragile.
They weren’t Nancy Drew or theMurder She Wrotelady. They were just two aging women with sunspots and aching backs and stubborn hearts. Just two old ladies who wanted answers.
But for the first time since she laid eyes on Jo Ellen after thirty years of missing her, Maggie wasn’t sure if she wanted these answers anymore.
The conversations by text and phone that Lacey had been having with Roman had somehow given her a false sense of readiness for tonight’s family dinner. She’d only seen him once since they met in Rosemary Beach a week ago.
He’d taken a one-month lease on a three-bedroom house on Lagoon Drive, not five minutes inland from the Summer House. Lacey had stopped by to see him and the house, which was clean and recently remodeled, situated on a canal with lovely sunset views. When he showed her around, he was most excited about the dock…well, second-most excited.
He’d practically jumped out of his skin when she told him he was formally invited to the Summer House for dinner to meet her mother, grandmother…and his biological mother and grandmother.
Now they were minutes from the start of that evening, and all her mental and emotional groundwork seemed to evaporate into thin air. What would happen? Would Tessa know? Would he blurt out the truth?
Stepping outside when she heard the rumble of a sports car pulling into the driveway, she felt flushed despite the cool whitesundress she wore. Nerves stretched across her chest every time she thought about what she was doing.
Breaking promises. Telling lies. And pretending to have a boyfriend.
The engine of a navy blue Porsche—what else?—quieted as she reached the bottom step, where she paused to watch him climb out of the car.
Holy…moly. Forget whether or not Tessa would recognize her own son—who in that house, or the world, would believe that Lacey Knight would attract the attention of this guy?
He wore a loose-fitting white linen shirt that somehow made his shoulders even broader, and khaki pants that looked clean, pressed, and wildly expensive. His hair might have been combed, but the Gulf breeze tousled his soft golden waves. With his sunglasses on, all she could really see was his smile, which blinded even from twenty feet away.
“Hey, can you help me with my gifts?” he called.
“You brought gifts?” she asked, hating that her voice sounded slightly high-pitched as she approached the car.
“Of course. I know there’s a slew of women waiting in there, so I did my best. Flowers for your mother because that’s what my mom would want.” He handed her a fat bouquet of sunflowers and white lilies. “And this cute little plant because you said your grandmother liked roses and this is a miniature rose bush.”
She gathered the bouquet and took the handle of a sweet bucket that held a tiny bush with delicate pink buds.
“And for the others, chocolate. Not so creative, but what woman doesn’t like chocolate?” He produced a gold bag emblazoned with the logo of a high-end candy shop in town. He leaned down and whispered, “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that my birth mother andhermother are both here.”
Here and about to be blindsided, she thought.
“Roman, this was all very thoughtful.” She raised the bouquet and bucket as he hooked the bag on her free finger. “They’ll be so grateful.”
“I didn’t forget you, of course.” Once again, he reached into the car and produced a small bag. “I hope my girlfriend will wear my jersey.”
He pulled out a turquoise football jersey, holding it open to reveal “Matteo 14” on the back. “It’s big but…” His lips lifted in a smile that could melt the chocolate she held. “You’ll look spectacular in it.”
All her stress instantly morphed into a different sensation—this one making every female cell in her body tingle right down to her toes.
“I’ll wear it with pride,” she said with a breathless laugh. “Gifts weren’t necessary. They’re all pretty excited to meet you.”
