“My favorite,” I say, though they already know. “Sasha’s favorite, too.”

“It was always a struggle to get any of that bread,” Mr. Cade remembers. “Sasha would eat the whole damn loaf if you didn’t pay attention.”

We share a laugh and settle into the plush high-backed chairs around their formal dining table. Mrs. Cade has gone all out tonight, using the same fine china she uses for Christmas dinners.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” I say as Mr. Cade hands me the tray of garlic bread. “I’d be happy eating out of a pizza box in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Cade’s diamond earrings sparkle under the chandelier and she waves a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I love cooking a good meal every now and then, and since Walter actually got home at a reasonable hour tonight, I thought it’d be a perfect opportunity to have you over as well.”

“I appreciate it,” I say.

Mr. Cade talks about his work and how they’re going through the boring process of auditing the firm they recently acquired. I nod politely as we eat, trying to ask an interested question every so often, but eventually Mrs. Cade tells him to stop talking about work at the dinner table.

“We don’t want to bore our guest,” she says.

“I’m not bored,” I say, reaching for another piece of garlic bread. “People think it’s so cool that I know Walter Cade, the tough Texas lawyer.” At that, Mr. Cade’s face lights up, and I continue, “I think it’s really cool how you put so much effort into helping people.”

“Thank you, Raquel. I’m one of the good guys in a field of sharks,” he says with a hearty chuckle. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t play the role of shark occasionally. It’s all for the greater good in the end, though. That’s why I call myself tough in the commercials. I didn’t think that phrase would stick as much as it did.”

“That reminds me,” Mrs. Cade says, taking a sip of her wine. “Remember that commercial we did when Sasha was about four? That was the cutest thing.”

“What?” I say, eyes wide. “I didn’t know about this!”

“Oh, we have to watch it,” Mrs. Cade says, hand over her heart. “It was so adorable. Sasha said something like, ‘My daddy will fix your problem because he’s the tough Texas lawyer.’” She makes her voice high and childlike as she imitates Sasha.

I thought I knew Sasha nearly as well as I know myself. I wonder what other secrets I’ll discover now that she’s gone. “I can’t believe I never knew about that,” I say, recalling all of the Walter Cade commercials I’d seen over the years. They’d always just featured Mr. Cade and sometimes his happy clients.

“She might not have remembered it herself,” Mrs. Cade says. “It was a long time ago.”

Talking about the past makes me think of Elijah, and I realize I’ve never learned the answer to the biggest question of all.

“What made you adopt Sasha?” I ask in the contented silence that lingers. Now that I know Elijah was out there, orphaned and alone, I need to know the answer.

Mr. and Mrs. Cade exchange a look, and then Mrs. Cade answers. “I couldn’t have children of my own. Once the doctors confirmed that, they offered all those medical options, but I just had this feeling — this hunch, I guess you could say — that we should adopt.”

“We went to an adoption agency in Austin the very next day,” Mr. Cade says, sitting up taller. “We were just going to talk to them, look around and see how the process worked and all that.”

“Oh, honey, you make it sound like we were picking out a puppy or something,” Mrs. Cade says, rolling her eyes. She turns to me, one hand still on her wineglass. “We had arranged a consultation with the agency, but on the walk down to the woman’s office, one of the caretakers walked by carrying baby Sasha. Sasha was crying, so I tried to cheer her up by making these goofy faces and stuff, and it worked. She looked up with those beautiful blue eyes and stopped crying. She even gave me a little laugh, and that was it,” she says, lifting a shoulder. “I knew she would be my baby girl. It wasn’t as easy as that, of course, but we got through the long adoption process and soon she was ours.”

The warm memory makes me feel all good inside, but only until I remember that Sasha’s brother never had the same thing happen to him.

I twirl a strand of pasta around my fork. “Did you ever think of adopting another child?”

Something dark flickers across Mrs. Cade’s eyes as Mr. Cade clears his throat. “We thought about it, but in the end, we just wanted to give all our love to our little girl. We’re too old to adopt now, but …”

Mr. Cade wipes his mouth with his napkin and looks over at his wife. “We’re thinking about maybe fostering some kids. Just one or two at first, see how it goes.”

“Really?” I say, looking to both of them. “That’s amazing. I think Sasha would like that.”

Mrs. Cade’s eyes seem far away and she nods. “After that speech Sasha had you give at her funeral, we started talking about it. We certainly have the means to take care of other kids, and I think Sasha would approve. It could be something we do in her memory.”

For the millionth time, I wonder why Sasha won’t let me tell them about Elijah. Sure, he’s an adult now and doesn’t need a foster family, but they’d definitely want to meet him. Now they want to foster more kids, but they should have sought out more when Sasha was a baby. Elijah needed that same love that Sasha bragged about in her letter. He needed the Cades. I bite down on the inside of my lip to keep from saying anything.

After dinner, Mrs. Cade walks me out to my car and gives me another one of her motherly hugs. “We’ll do this again soon,” she says, pulling away and holding me by the arms. The dark circles under her eyes have eased up a bit, and that makes my heart feel lighter. “Next time, bring your parents, okay?”

“I will,” I say.

“Are you still dating that same guy?” Mrs. Cade asks, almost as an afterthought. “Zack?”

Tags: Cheyanne Young
Source: readsnovelonline.net