Page 27 of Forgotten Dreams
“Bruce,” she says his name, then looks at me and back at him. “Who do we have here?” He turns to her, but she doesn’t give him a chance to say anything because she gasps. “Are those donuts?” She walks over to the table, and then looks at him with a glare and then looks at me. “Did he tell you to bring these?”
“No,” I lie for him, and I’m only doing it because he took the time to talk to me. “I came to ask him a couple of questions, and I didn’t feel right coming empty-handed.”
“I don’t believe you,” she retorts to me, putting the basket on the table and then closing up the box of donuts. “Here”—she holds out the box—"you take these home.” I lift my hand and take the box from her.
“Woman,” Bruce finally snaps, “those are my donuts. She brought them to me as a gift, and it’s rude to give gifts back."
She turns to him. “You better watch it, mister,” she hisses. “You have high blood pressure, and you know that sugary stuff isn’t good for you. I’m not going to sit around watching you kill yourself.”
“She’s always been a little dramatic.” He picks up his tea. “She gets more dramatic as she ages.”
“I can leave,” she bites out, and he ignores her. “Is that what you want?”
“Heloise,” he says her name, looking at her and then at me, “meet Sierra.” She looks over at me. “She’s the Jane Doe we found in a cardboard box.”
“Oh my,” she replies, sitting in the chair beside her, putting her hand on her chest. “I thought you were his long-lost granddaughter.”
I can’t help but laugh, literally. “Woman, what are you talking about? We’ve been together since we were sixteen.”
“You went away for the Navy,” she snips back. “How was I to know you didn’t go philandering around?”
“I’m not his long-lost granddaughter,” I confirm to her. “I just found out that I was adopted.” I tell her the story, and she has to wipe away the tears. “So now I’m going to try to find my birth parents.”
“Honey,” she advises softly, “maybe that isn’t the smartest idea.”
“Leave her be,” Bruce interjects. “She does what she needs to.”
“Hush yourself”—Heloise slaps his arm—“and focus on finishing that donut before I take it away from you,” she warns him. “You do what you need to do, and we will help you in any way we can.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, and by the time I look around, the three of us are having dinner together. Bruce sneaks another donut in, and when it’s almost seven, I walk out of the house with a smile on my face and the box of donuts tucked under my arm. Getting into the car, I turn and see the two of them standing there waiting for me to drive away. I wave at them as I pull away from the curb and head toward Lilah’s house.
I don’t call before I get there, grabbing the box and heading toward the front door. I walk up the steps and press the doorbell, wondering if maybe I should have had this talk with her before. I regret this decision when the door opens, and I see her face light up when she sees me. “Hey.” She moves away from blocking the door to give me a chance to come in. “This is a surprise.” I step in. “I called you this afternoon.”
“I know,” I say of my missed call when I was talking to Bruce and Heloise, “I was with Bruce.”
She looks at me with confusion as I fill her in on who Bruce is. “That’s incredible,” she gasps. “Check that off the list.”
“I know, but there is a reason I came here.” I look around. “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”
“I’m home all alone,” she states, walking to the living room and sitting on the couch. “Emmett and Lucy went for a nighttime ride.” She grabs the throw blanket and puts it on herself as she turns off the television. “So we are as alone as we can be.”
I sit at the other end of the couch and turn to her. “Okay, I have to tell you something,” I finally say, “and you are going to hate me, and it might ruin our whole friendship.” I can’t stop my mouth from talking.
“Ruin our friendship?” she asks and sits up, her face filling with a look of fear.
The pit of my stomach burns so hard, and I think I’m going to throw up. “There isn’t an easy way to say this.” I avoid looking at her as I close my eyes and take a deep breath for courage. “So I’m just going to say it.” I look at her. “I kissed Caleb,” I admit it, and then see her eyes go big. “I know, I know, it was wrong, and I swear it was only one time. But I crossed a line, and I’m so sorry.”
“You kissed Caleb?” she asks, and I nod, waiting for her to tell me I’m the shittiest friend to ever live. “Like Caleb Walker?”
“One, how many Calebs have you dated?” I almost hiss out. “Yes, the one you dated.”
“Dated is a stretch,” she retorts. “I kissed him twice, and it’s only because the first time was so bad I thought it was all in my head.” I literally gawk at her. “News flash. It was gross. Both times.” She holds up two fingers. “Gross,” she whispers out the word.
“Caleb?” I now say his name because there is no way she kissed the same guy I kissed, definitely not the same guy she kissed.
“Oh my God, is that why you look like you stole someone’s kitten and are keeping it hidden in your bedroom?”
“Lilah, you dated him, which means he’s off-limits.” My voice rises.
