“You don’t have to convince me. I’m just asking the question. I’m curious about where the grandson will stand on all this.”
At the mention of Ray Rawlings, Christy-Lynn felt her face go hot. “I don’t care where he stands. Iris is the one I care about—and Rhetta. As soon as the documents are drawn up, the lawyer will send her a copy to look over. When I’m sure she understands everything, we’ll sign the papers. After that, the funds will be released. I know she hasn’t said yes yet, but she will. I’m determined to make her see that this is the best thing for everyone.”
“Does that include you?”
The question seemed to come out of left field. Not just the words, but the way he’d said them, as if he knew something she didn’t. “I don’t really have anything to do with it.”
“I think we both know that’s not true. From the moment you laid eyes on that girl, you’ve been consumed. It’s like you think by fixing this you can fix all the other stuff.”
Christy-Lynn felt her hackles rise. “What other stuff?”
“Stephen cheating on you. Stephen lying to you. This crazy idea that it’s all your fault. Or maybe it’s something else. I just know this isn’t some casual cause for you. Something’s going on, and I’m not even sure you know what it is.”
She was silent a moment, sipping her latte. Of course something was going on. Every time she looked at Iris, she saw herself, the child she’d been trying to outrun for years, reflected back in sharp, heartrending fragments. A selfish, emotionally absent mother, the grim sense of uncertainty, a childhood on the brink of collapse.
“Can’t it just be about doing the right thing?” she asked finally. “About helping because I can?”
“Yes, it can be. But I don’t think it is. And I don’t think you do either. I’m not saying don’t do it. I’m just saying don’t pretend it’s not a big deal when it obviously is. You’re probably the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met, but this isn’t just kindness.”
“What is it then?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was gentle, thoughtful. “Something else. Penance maybe. Or atonement.”
“Atonement?”
He let out a sigh. “Okay, maybe that’s not the right word either, but I see you shutting down, keeping everything and everyone at arm’s length. Except this little girl.”
Christy-Lynn peered over one shoulder, making sure Tamara was out of earshot. “So this is about the other night? About what happened in the boat?”
“No,” he countered defensively. “Okay, maybe, but not the way you think. I know what it looks like when someone’s pushing the whole world away and how much you can lose while you’re doing it. And yes, I know I sound preachy right now, but this isn’t about me and what I want. It’s about you. Do you even know what you want?”
The question made Christy-Lynn squirm. Yes, she knew what she wanted. She wanted to go back, to clean it all up, to rewrite her story without all the dark parts, to unknow the things she knew, to unsee the things she’d seen, to live without her memories, her shame, her regret. And maybe that was a kind of atonement, after all. But none of those things were possible.
“Christy-Lynn?”
Her head came up sharply. Wade was still staring, still waiting. “Hmmm?”
“I asked if you knew what you wanted.”
Christy-Lynn reached for her latte, sipping slowly as she fumbled for an answer. In the end, she decided the best she could hope for was a change of subject. “Well, I could use someone to cat sit while I’m out of town. Interested?”
Wade’s brows shot up. “Did you say ‘cat sit’?”
“It’s only two days, but I’ve never left him alone before. I don’t want him to feel abandoned. And the two of you did seem to hit it off.”
Wade seemed to be holding his breath, as if searching for a way to steer the conversation back to more serious matters. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh. “Sure. I’ll be your cat sitter.”
His response caught her off guard. “Seriously?”
“Why not? No diapers. No cooking. How hard can it be?”
“It’s just Saturday and Sunday, and I’ll leave food down and everything. All he’ll need is someone to check his food and give him a little pet for reassurance.”
Wade emptied his mug and set it down with a grin. “I told you, animals have a thing for me. It’s the grown-ups I can’t seem to win over.”
Something caught in her throat, a protest or an admission. She wasn’t sure which. “Wade—”
“Go to West Virginia,” he said softly, cutting her off.
“Thank you. I’ll leave a spare key with Tamara.”
“Do me a favor?”
She smiled, feeling shy suddenly. Was he flirting? Was she? “Well, you’re watching my cat, so I guess I owe you one.” God, she was flirting.
“Come back safe?”
And now he was flirting back, all scruffy smile and brooding charm, like one of those guys on the Hallmark Channel. This had to stop. This had to stop right now. And yet she was still smiling as she pushed back from the table and stood.
“All right. I can do that.”
THIRTY-NINE
Riddlesville, West Virginia
July 23, 2017
Rhetta pressed a hand to her lips, papery lids clenched tight. Across the kitchen table, Christy-Lynn waited for the moment to pass, pretending not to notice Iris standing in the doorway clutching her tattered teddy bear for dear life.
Several moments passed before Rhetta managed to find her composure. “I don’t know what to say. Are you sure about this? It’s . . . so much.”
Christy-Lynn smiled. It had taken more than two hours to explain the ins and outs of what she was proposing, but Rhetta finally seemed to be warming to the idea. “Yes, I’m sure. Stephen should have taken care of this when Iris was born, but he didn’t, so I’m doing it for him.”
“But it’s your money now. Legally it belongs to you.”
“Look at me, Rhetta.” Christy-Lynn waited until Rhetta’s hazy blue eyes lifted to hers. “I want to do it. In fact, I need to.”
“Why?”
Christy-Lynn thought back to her conversation with Wade, to his theories about penance and atonement—about her trying to fix the past. But whose past? Hers? Stephen’s? Or was this about Charlene Parker, who, like Honey, had turned her back on her daughter? Perhaps Wade had been closer to the mark than she wanted to admit.
“My reasons aren’t important, Rhetta. But Iris is. We agree on that, don’t we?”
Rhetta nodded mutely.
“Then you’re saying yes? You’ll let me do this for you?”
Rhetta nodded again, with a little gulp, then buried her face in her hands.
Iris was instantly at her side, a tiny arm wound about Rhetta’s neck. “Nonny, don’t cry.”
Rhetta sniffed loudly and managed a smile. “Nonny’s fine, baby. Sometimes grown-ups cry when they’re happy. That’s what I’m doing. I’m crying because I’m happy.”
Iris shifted her gaze to Christy-Lynn and then back again, clearly perplexed. Rhetta took hold of her shoulders, turning her to face Christy-Lynn squarely. “You remember Miss Christy-Lynn, don’t you? You liked her so much you gave her a fish, and she put it on her icebox.”
Iris nodded almost dreamily.
“And now she’s come back to do something nice for you, like an angel sent from heaven. Can you tell her thank you?”
Christy-Lynn dropped her eyes uncomfortably. She wasn’t an angel; she was merely trying to right a wrong. But Iris had clearly taken her great-grandmother’s words to heart. Hesitant at first, she broke from Rhetta’s side, eyes lowered as she approached. And then, with a shy smile, she laid her teddy bear in Christy-Lynn’s lap.
She was gone in an instant, scurrying from the kitchen in her stockinged feet. Christy-Lynn met Rhetta’s eyes. They were moist again.
“She likes you,” Rhetta said softly, her voice full of emotion.
Christy-Lynn dipped her head. “I like her too. And she deserves a good life. Hopefully this trust will help give her one.”