Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I closed the cover and set the napkin down gently on top, my hand shaking. “Oh my God,” I whispered. I’d never seen this before. My mother had to have placed this inside my baby book at some point before she’d died.
And I knew why she’d placed it in that particular spot, even if she hadn’t given it to me directly at the time. Maybe she’d thought I was too young. Maybe she’d meant to share more with me later, a later that never came, and this spot seemed like the perfect place to preserve such a precious item.
A wave of emotion rolled over me, the feeling that I’d asked my mother for guidance and she’d led me here, to this napkin pressed between the pages of my history. And if that was the case, then she meant me to go further.
My gaze hung on the sketch of my mother’s beautiful face, so many questions racing through my mind that I had no way to have answered. But maybe…that was because the answers weren’t here in Mud Gulch. Maybe the answers were in that town my mother had visited so long ago, the one where this sketch had been created, the one where she’d met a man and made me.
My mother had never told me or my uncles whether my father knew about me or not, but even if he did and had chosen not to pursue a relationship with me at the time, perhaps he regretted that now. And even if that wasn’t the case, I had a right to know who I was, didn’t I? Why shouldn’t I at least try to fill in the gaps of my history now that I had a lead? One my mother had left for me. I turned my head, staring mostly unseeing out the window, allowing an idea that perhaps had always been floating at the edge of my mind to form: what if…what if he was the pull? My father. His existence calling to me over time and distance.
Rufus yawned and I stroked his ear, a plan already taking shape. My mind whirred, details clarifying rapidly and a person who might help immediately coming to mind. I had an angle now in this casual sketch, this singular piece of art.
My night with Gage had rattled something inside of me. I had seized the opportunity a couple of nights before because I had wanted it—I’d wanted him—and I didn’t regret it. And now another opportunity was right in front of me. Wouldn’t I be a fool if I didn’t seize this one as well while I still could?
“What do you think, boy?” I asked Rufus as I stroked his ear. “Could there be something wonderful waiting for me out there?”
Again, Gage’s face flashed in my mind. But I quickly moved it away. Gage had been a temporary—albeit extremely pleasant—distraction. I was seeking something far more permanent.
I picked up my phone and FaceTimed Cash. A moment later, his rugged, bearded face filled the screen. I could see that he was sitting at the bar and I caught a glimpse of Romeo working behind him. My uncle was clearly already looking for things to do if he was hanging at Cakes and Ale at four o’clock on a weekday. I grinned. “Hi.”
In answer, Cassius gave me a raise of his dark brow. “I know that grin. What are you about to ask me for?”
“Cash…” I began as Romeo leaned in from the side.
Cassius’s brow dipped. “Here we go.”
“Since you’re home for the next couple months anyway, do you think you could watch the brood?”
For a moment, both my uncles looked completely perplexed. “Me?” Cassius finally said.
“Whoa. What’s this about?” Romeo asked, knocking Cassius slightly to the side to which he received a glare from his big brother.
“I’m not the person to watch your brood. I know sea creatures, not dogs,” Cash insisted, his gaze returning to me as he used his shoulder to assert his place front and center of the screen.
“Dogs are easy,” I told him. “Just feed them, walk them, and scratch their bellies and they’ll give you their undying devotion. They’re pack animals. They’ll just be happy to have you there.”
“Romeo, tell this girl whatever she’s thinking isn’t a good idea,” Cassius said.
How often had I heard that very phrase over the years, tossed from one uncle to the other? I’d been a mischievous kid, and a stubborn teen. But this wasn’t about some whimsical idea I’d gotten in my head five minutes ago. I’d been carrying questions inside about who I really was my whole life. The answers I might find could be life-changing. And I’d just been presented a tangible lead. “Just a short vacation,” I said.
Romeo was staring at me through the screen, a look on his face that was both sad and sort of hopeful. “I think you should go,” he said softly.