“Liar.”
He glances at me over his shoulder, shaking his head. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
“I do. Now ‘fess up, McCurry.”
He looks towards the house and gives a little wave to Becca through the window. She smiles back, but doesn’t come out to us.
“Did something happen with her?” I ask, petting the dog.
A small laugh rumbles out of him. “Not really. She’s a good girl.”
“So? I don’t see the problem.”
He gives Yogi one final nuzzle before facing me. Taking a deep breath, he speaks. “My phone rang this morning.”
“My phone rings all the time.”
“Smartass,” he laughs. “So do you pick yours up and it happens to be the woman that gave birth to you that gave you up for adoption that you’ve met once in your life?”
The gasp I emit is quick and shaky. My eyes are bulging, my hand going to my mouth. “You’re kidding me.”
The color of his eyes, usually so playful and clear, are dirtied with unnamed emotion. He doesn’t look like the Cord I’m used to seeing: sharp, fun, smart. He reminds me of one of the kids in my class that is in trouble and afraid.
His head shakes side to side. “She’s incarcerated somewhere in Kansas.”
“What’s she want you to do about it?” I say that, but then realize that’s not even what I’m thinking. “Why would she even call you about that? What the hell, Cord?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs, clearly torn about his predicament.
“So, how does that conversation go?” I ask, starting to see red as I watch Cord fight with the situation this callous and despicable woman put him in. “Hey, I’m the lady that hasn’t cared about you for your entire life. But I need help so come help me?”
“Basically.” He leans against the truck, his head in his hands. Yogi comes up and licks his forehead.
“Fuck her, Cord. You don’t owe her anything.”
“The jail said she was arrested for drug trafficking. If I bail her out, I’d be responsible for her—”
“Oh, no,” I say, pulling his hands down so he’ll look at me. “You aren’t bailing her out. I can see on your face that you feel responsible for this somehow, like because she called you that you should run and help her, but you aren’t.”
Shoving away from the vehicle, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I know that. I do. I’m not stupid, Elin.”
“I know,” I say, my hand resting on his bicep. “But I hate seeing her put you in this spot.”
“I don’t even know how she got my number.”
“She can lose it,” I say, squeezing his arm before letting go. “She’s nothing to you. We are your family.”
The words wash over his face, inch by inch, until they begin to lift the corners of his lips. “Thank you.”
Waving my hand in the air, I snort. “No thanks needed. You know I love telling you what to do.”
“No shit,” he laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and starting towards my house. “I don’t think this thing with Becca is going to work out though.”
“Why?” I ask, stopping in my tracks. “I thought it was going good.”
“We hung out last night and today a little. She’s a great girl.”
I nod, an exaggerated up and down, agreeing with him. He laughs at my antics, but the heaviness is back in his eyes.
“She needs someone that is ready to give her a house and a family. That guy’s not me, Elin.”
“He could be you!”
“He’s not,” he laughs. “My life turns into a mess every time I think about trying to make something out of it.”
Huffing, I nearly stomp my foot. “That’s not true.”
“It is. And it’s okay.” His arm goes back over my shoulders again and we hit the stairs to the house. “I’m just the sidekick, the guy that wanders aimlessly around. I’m okay with that.”
He pulls the door open and waits for me to go inside. Before I do, I study his face long and hard. “Everyone has a purpose in life. Even you.”
“I wish I could figure it out,” he groans as I walk by.
“You will. I promise.”
Starting inside, I’m stopped by the sound of a phone ringing behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see Ty’s phone on the lawn chair by the basketball net.
Jogging down the driveway, I snag it. Swiping the screen on, I answer it. “Hello?” I say breathlessly.
“Hello,” a female voice responds. “Is Ty there?”
“Um, who is this?”
“Tell him it’s Nila.”
Red. Instantly, I see explosions of red-hot fury. My hand trembles, almost dropping the phone, as I catch myself from telling her off. Instead, I give her what she wants. I’ll get what I want at the same time—the truth.
“Just a second,” I say, heading towards the house.
Before I hit the steps to the patio, Ty pokes his head outside. He starts to say something, but reads my face first.
“You have a call.” I extend my hand, the phone lying in my palm like a dead fish. “It’s Nila.”
Stepping gingerly towards me, the door shutting behind him, he takes the phone.