Brock and I are in different places, though—such different places that I’m not sure anything will ever work between us, no matter how much I want it to.
Plus, there’s a significant difference between last night and this morning—one I shouldn’t ignore.
Dragon was looking for nothing more than a quickie.
Davey is asking me for a date.
And also…who says a date with Davey has to lead to anything? We don’t have to end up in the sack—which is definitely where Dragon and I were headed.
“I understand,” Davey says.
“You know what? I’ve only been on two real dates with this guy.”
“Guy?”
“Yeah. I’m bisexual. Didn’t I mention that at our interview?”
“You did. I’m bisexual as well.”
Yup, the radar never fails.
Maybe this is what I’ve been looking for. Raine and my two significant others before her couldn’t handle my bisexuality. If Davey is bisexual herself, she’ll understand. She won’t constantly be worrying that I’m attracted to men, because she’s attracted to men as well.
I clear my throat. “Davey, like I said, I’m flattered. You’re very attractive and obviously intelligent and caring, but… Can I think about it?”
“Sure. You have my number.”
“I appreciate that. Part of me wants to say yes right now, but I guess…”
“You guess you should talk to this other person? This guy?”
“Yeah, I should.”
I need to do some serious thinking, and not just about what I might want with Brock.
About the fact that I may very well be carrying his child, and that changes everything.
“Not a problem,” Davey says. “It was nice talking to you again.”
“You as well. Bye, Davey.”
I end the call and then stroke my abdomen.
Until my phone buzzes yet again.
Chapter Forty-Six
Brock
I study my father’s profile as I sit on the passenger seat of his pickup. Just the two of us, he and I, are driving across the Wyoming border. Donny and Dale were both unavailable, so it’s Dad and me.
I wish my cousins were here for backup. I love my father—I do—but I feel like I don’t know him anymore.
He’s quiet. When my father’s quiet, I begin to worry. It means his mind is working. He’s thinking. He’s thinking about things that I probably don’t even know about. Sure, he came clean about some of the stuff, but it’s clear.
There’s a lot I still don’t know.
Finally I speak.
“Tell me. Tell me who tried to kill Mom. And why.”
He doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he stares at the road in front of us. Driving to Wyoming is driving through a lot of nothing.
Finally, “Your mother had a patient. Her name was Gina. She was Aunt Ruby’s cousin.”
I widen my eyes.
“Your cousin Gina was named after her. Anyway, she was a patient of your mother’s, and she committed suicide.”
My jaw drops.
“Except she didn’t actually commit suicide. That’s what we were told, at first. But the person who took her wanted your mother to believe it, so he kidnapped her and left her to die in a garage, tied up, while a car was running.”
I feel sick. My stomach’s about to come out my mouth. How did she escape? I want to ask, but the words don’t come.
“You know how smart your mother is. She managed to get her wrists untied, got into the car, and backed it through the garage door. She was treated for carbon monoxide poisoning.”
Still, I say nothing. My beautiful mother. My brilliant mother. All this happened before I was born.
“Funny,” Dad says. “I haven’t thought about this in so long. But that’s how your brother came to be.”
“What?”
“Your mother was kept for several days, and she didn’t have her birth control pills with her. So she missed a few days, and when she escaped, and she and I got back together, she got pregnant.”
Pregnant.
Before they were married.
With this new knowledge, I feel a kinship with my father I never felt before. A different kind of kinship.
“So I guess you could say that if none of that had happened, we wouldn’t have your brother.”
Talk about a silver lining. “Look, I get that you love Brad. I do too. But for God’s sake, someone tried to kill my mother.”
“Yes. So much bad happened to our family during that time. So much we’ve all tried to bury. To keep it in the past. And when we do think of it, we try to think of something good that came out of it. The good that came out of your mother’s kidnapping is your brother.”
I pause for a moment. My father’s philosophy is not a bad one. Will I look back on what I’m going through someday and see only the good that came out of it?
So far I’m not sure any good has come out of it.
The more we uncover, the more horror we seem to find.
“What you need to remember,” Dad says, “is that your mother lived through it. She saved herself. Part of it was luck, of course, but part of it was her own intelligence and shrewdness. She’s a clever woman. And I thank God every day that I have her and the two of you boys.”