Traded

by Tess Thompson

  “I have no interest in a relationship, let alone a wife. You know that.”

  “I do, but I don’t understand it,” she said.

  “I thought you didn’t want her around?”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s the type of person who knows how to get a thing done. I admire that,” Flora said.

  “Because it reminds you of yourself?” he asked, laughing.

  “Something like that.”

  After he left Flora, he went back to his room and opened a beer from the minibar. With his drink in hand, he went to the window and looked out at the lights of San Francisco. Today had exhausted him. Between Flora’s news and the hospital ordeal, his emotions had been tugged and stretched to the point of numbness. If this private investigator found Flora’s son, what would that mean to her? Would he be a bloodsucking leech who would go after her money? Over the years, Lance had made sure to invest her savings. Because of his savvy investments, she was worth millions. He wanted her to use that money to do things she wanted: trips, adventures, classes. Finding a long-lost son had not been in the plans. Allowing strangers into their lives left her vulnerable.

  And this high school sweetheart that had gotten her pregnant and abandoned her—what of him? She painted him as an innocent in the story, but why hadn’t he tried to find her. How did he not know she was pregnant?

  He needed to make sure Kara understood the situation. Whatever happened, Flora must be protected from harm.

  He paced in front of the window for a few minutes before deciding to call her. She answered on the third ring, sounding breathless.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Brody.”

  “Hi. Is everything all right with Flora?”

  “Yeah. She’s tucked into bed already. Have you been running?” he asked. “You sound breathless.”

  “I’m just leaving Zumba. Is something wrong?”

  An image of Kara in workout clothes flashed through his mind. Focus on the task at hand.

  “Flora told me about her baby and the long-lost boyfriend tonight,” he said.

  Silence greeted him from the other end of the phone, followed by the sound of a car door opening and closing.

  “She told me you found a detective,” he said.

  “That’s right.”

  He’d intended to launch into instructions, but instead, his feelings spilled out of his mouth. “It’s weird she never told me. It’s even weirder that she went to you about this instead of me. I mean, you’ve known her for a month. I’ve known her all my life.”

  “It makes sense if you think about it,” she said. “I’m a stranger to her, and I’m not going to be around long. I’m safe. It was my idea about the detective.”

  “Flora’s worth a lot of money.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Keep that in mind when you open up Pandora’s box,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the detective digs deep into whomever he finds. People aren’t always what they seem on the surface.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” he said.

  “Are you angry? You sound angry.”

  “No, I’m worried. I want to meet these people before we introduce them to Flora,” he said.

  “That’s something you should talk to her about. She’s an adult, Brody.”

  “I know that. But she’s racked with guilt, which makes her vulnerable.”

  She didn’t answer right away. “I suppose that’s true. How about we wait to see if Mike can even find anything.”

  That was reasonable. Mike might not be able to find either one of them. Why did he like that idea so much?

  “I probably sound selfish to you,” he said.

  “No, just concerned.”

  “I never thought she had anyone but us. I liked it that way.”

  “Even if she does find her son and the long-lost boyfriend, as you called him, her feelings for you and your mother won’t change. You’re still her family.”

  “I guess,” he said.

  “Try not to worry so much. The truth is always better.” Her voice softened. “It’s good to be skeptical and protective. We’ll work together to make sure Flora’s safe.”

  Together.

  “Fine.” It came out gruffer than he wanted. “I should go. Early day tomorrow.”

  “Please keep us posted,” she said.

  “I will. Good night,” he said.

  “Good night.”

  He plopped onto the bed and closed his eyes. The day after tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Kara

  Kara knew Flora’s surgery would take a long time, but the day dragged on and on as she and Janet waited for news. Brody had sent texts with updates that all appeared to be going well. Finally, about four that afternoon, he texted that she was out of surgery and the doctors felt confident they’d gotten most, if not all, of the cancerous cells.

  Feeling relieved, she went to her dance class. She’d just showered and was on her way downstairs to make dinner for her and Janet when she heard the doorbell. When she opened the door, Doctor Jon Waller stood under the porch awning holding a bottle of wine. Jeans and a sweater had replaced his usual dress slacks and a button-down shirt.

  No wonder Janet has a crush on him. She’d thought it the first time she’d met him, and every time since. He was at least six feet tall with thick salt and pepper hair cut short, a strong jaw and deep green eyes.

  “Good evening, Kara.”

  She ushered him inside. “Come in. What brings you out tonight?”

  “Janet texted earlier to ask me for dinner, which a lonely guy like me never turns down.”

  Dinner? Janet hadn’t mentioned there might be three for tonight. “I was about to get dinner started. I’ll go get her.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “May I ask you something? About Janet.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you have a read on whether this is a date or not?” He held up the wine. “I took a chance that it was.”

  She thought fast. What was the best answer? It must have been spontaneous, or Janet would have asked her if she would make dinner for three instead of two. She lowered her voice. “All I can tell you is that she regrets not saying yes when you asked her out. Therefore, I think you should proceed like this is a date.” Janet must have finally gotten her courage up. Good for her.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he said. “I’m so out of practice. I was so embarrassed the first time she said no that I didn’t want to risk asking again. Although, I’ve been getting signals lately that wanted me to ask again.”

  “You were right. Between you and me, she must have finally gotten her courage up because I had no idea you were on your way here.”

  “Between you and me, I’ve never taken a shower as fast as I did just now.”

  They laughed as Kara led him into the living room. “Now you open that wine, and I’ll let Janet know you’re here.”

  “No need, dear. I’m here.” Janet came into the room using her crutches. She’d gotten fast over the past few weeks. A light blue blouse paired with a long skirt that almost hid her cast flattered her slim frame. She had fixed her hair in attractive waves around her face and done her makeup, including a bright lipstick.

  “You look beautiful,” Jon said.

  “Thank you.” Janet’s eyes sparkled. “Kara, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we had a guest, but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing. We were chatting on the phone while you were at your dance class, and I suddenly thought we needed company for dinner—to keep our minds off Flora.”

  “It’s no problem. I always make too much anyway.” She switched the fireplace on and dimmed the overhead lights. “That’s better. It was much too bright in here.” Kara exchanged glances with Jon. “I’m happy to whip up dinner for you two, but I can’t stay.” What excuse should she make? “I promised Hono
r I’d meet her in town for a glass of wine.”

  “Oh, well, some other time,” Jon said. “We can talk shop.”

  Kara nodded. “I’d love your advice on possible job prospects.”

  “Sure, yes. Anything I can do to help,” Jon said.

  “For when she’s done here,” Janet said. “Which won’t be for at least a month.” She smiled up at Kara. “We’re attached to her already.”

  Kara almost burst into tears. “Me too, Janet. Okay, I’m off to make dinner.” She scampered to the kitchen before she embarrassed herself.

  Once there, it occurred to her that a bottle of wine needed a food pairing. She prepared a cheese and cracker plate, along with slices of apple.

  Jon and Janet were sitting on the couch when she came into the room with the tray. “I thought you two might enjoy an appetizer before dinner,” Kara said as she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of them.

  “How nice,” Janet said.

  “Perfect. A little wine will make me so much better looking, but I don’t want to get drunk on our first date.” Jon winked at Kara like they were in cahoots to win Janet’s affection. Trust me, you don’t need my help.

  “To our first date.” She held up her glass.

  Before they clinked glasses, Kara made herself scarce. Not that they seemed to notice her. They only had eyes for each other.

  Kara set the dining room table for two and finished the stir fry. Before she invited Jon and Janet in to eat, she lit some candles. Not that lighting was important. Given the way they gazed at each other, fluorescent lights would have been just as romantic as candlelight.

  She texted Honor.

  Any chance you could meet me in town for a drink?

  A few minutes later Honor responded.

  I’m cozy here at home, but do you want to come over? I can open some wine.

  Perfect.

  KARA ARRIVED AT HONOR’S a few minutes late, having underestimated how long it would take to drive the narrow street from town up to Honor’s home. As she pulled into Honor’s driveway, the sun descended into an orange horizon. The weather had shifted that morning, with a cloudless sky and sunshine that gifted the afternoon with temperatures in the upper sixties.

  Honor’s house was built into the gently sloped hill above town and nestled amongst pines and maples. The yard appeared well maintained, although simple, with a cement walkway and modest shrubs. She rang the doorbell and turned back to look at the view. It struck her, once again, how extraordinary it was to be here. Would she be able to stay long term? Unlikely. But for now, she intended to absorb every moment of the beauty.

  Honor opened the door, wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, with her hair piled in a messy knot on her head. Kara was struck at how young and innocent she looked without makeup and dressed so casually. Hidden under Honor’s bravado was a little girl looking for love.

  “Come on in,” Honor said. “Did you have any trouble finding it? The driveways can be confusing here.”

  Driveways on both sides of the narrow road were not well marked with addresses, other than Honor’s. Hers was marked not only with the street number, but also her last name: Sullivan. Kara suspected the sign represented more than just simple directions. “I found you with no problem. I like your sign.”

  Honor smiled. “I do too.”

  Kara followed Honor inside. Her home was not at all what Kara expected. Ash wood floors, minimalist furniture, and walls the color of sandstone were understated and calming. The living room, decorated in blues and white with an oversized couch and chairs, looked out through picture windows to the ocean. Business, fashion, and food magazines peppered the coffee table. A bookshelf along the back wall was filled with self-help books.

  “Come on back to the kitchen, and I’ll pour us some wine,” Honor said.

  With a refurbished table and rustic cabinets, the kitchen was an updated take on the traditional farmhouse. A ceramic rooster and a few tins were the only items on the counters.

  “Your house is so nice,” Kara said. Jealousy threatened to ruin her mood. She would not let it. Good for Honor. Someday she would have a beautiful home of her own. Like she used to. She swallowed her bitterness and focused on her hostess.

  Honor opened wine, chatting about the process of refurbishing the kitchen. “I made this Pinterest board for the designer with the types of kitchens I liked. She came back with this design, saying I have a country girl’s heart, which I find hilarious given how I am. You know, like, I don’t eat it if I can’t make it in my microwave. But there’s something about this kitchen that makes me want to start grinding or mashing my own baby food or whatever it’s called. If I had a baby, which I don’t and probably won’t.”

  “Why not?” Kara asked.

  “I’d be a terrible mother. I’m way too selfish.”

  “You take care of Brody pretty well,” Kara said.

  “Yes, and he is a giant baby.”

  Kara laughed. “He’s giant, that’s for sure.”

  “It’s not his fault. Flora’s spoiled him rotten,” Honor said. “It’s ridiculous how she still treats him like he’s ten.”

  “You weren’t the one who had to sit through an afternoon of ‘how to cook for Brody’ lessons.”

  “I don’t know how you got through that afternoon without one snarky comment. I could never have done that,” Honor said.

  Honor grabbed two glasses and the bottle of wine and directed Kara back to the living room. They settled into the soft sofa as the last sliver of sun washed the room in a warm glow. She was comfortable here with Honor. She must allow her heart to be open to the idea of new friendships, even though she missed Jessica with the ache of a consistent, low-grade fever.

  “Are you hungry?” Honor asked. “I put out snacks.”

  Kara hadn’t noticed the tray of cheese and crackers when she’d come through the first time. This small touch surprised Kara. She hadn’t pegged Honor for the hostess type.

  “How did you find this place? I haven’t seen a for sale sign on a house since I moved here,” Kara said.

  Honor reminded her that she’d inherited the house from an aunt. “She was my great-aunt, actually. She and my mother’s mother were sisters. They’d had a falling out at some point and lost touch. I didn’t even know I had any relatives, let alone one who wanted to leave me her house. Her name was Caroline Marie and she was eighty-eight when she died. She lived her last days in her own house which, as far as I’m concerned, is the best anyone can hope for. Aunt Caroline never met my mother or me, but for some reason, she left the house to me. I just got a call one day, right after I’d aged out of the foster system that I’d inherited a small sum of cash and a house from Great-Aunt Caroline. A house with no mortgage in California. That’s like winning the lottery.”

  “It’s unbelievable, considering your childhood.”

  “Right? We couldn’t make this stuff up,” Honor said.

  “Anyway, the cash sum wasn’t much—not enough for college tuition or anything like that. At that point, I knew I wanted to get a degree, and I had good grades from high school, but no way to pay for it. Even with loans, it would have been a stretch. So, I came here to Cliffside Bay to look at this house, figuring I’d sell it and take the money and run, so to speak. I had this whole life planned. Graduate from college with a business degree and move to L.A. Get a job anywhere I could and hustle my butt off and slowly work my way up, which I know, doesn’t sound like someone in our generation, but when you grow up like I did, you know nothing in life is owed to you. When you’re like me, you have to work for every damn thing.” She drank from her glass of wine. “But as they say, make plans to make God laugh, or whatever it is, because the minute I drove into town and walked into this house, I fell in love. It took some imagination to see how this house could shine, kind of like the girlfriend with no fashion sense that needs a good makeover. First off, the house had the smell of a reclusive old lady.”

  “What’s that smell?”
Kara asked.

  “Damp newspapers, rose perfume, and dirty hair.”

  Kara laughed. “Was all her stuff still here too?”

  “Yeah. It was filled with all kinds of old lady stuff. I swear there were fourteen sets of ugly china with various flower patterns, all displayed in cabinets with fussy carvings. Furniture that belonged in the forties, all flowered patterns and dark wood. It wasn’t just the way it was decorated either. There was a ton of shit in here. The upstairs bedrooms were the worst. It was a lifetime of stuff you leave on the kitchen table thinking you’ll clean it up tomorrow. Old magazines stacked as high as the ceiling. Boxes of old letters. Enough books to create an entire library.”

  “Did you fix it up yourself?”

  “Kind of. I had a giant garage sale, which when you’re eighteen years old and never had more stuff than could fit in a shoebox—it was like planning a freaking wedding. I spent the entire summer sorting through everything and deciding if it was yard sale worthy or needed to be thrown out for the sake of humanity. I basically got rid of everything and started over.”

  “That’s amazing,” Kara said. “What did you do about college, then?”

  “I decided to go to the junior college that’s about a half hour from here and get a job to support myself. I figured it might take me a little longer, but I’d get to keep the house. I lived in this house with almost no furniture—literally, it echoed in here—and worked for Zane’s dad at the bar. This was eight years ago—long before he got sick. I transferred to a four-year college when it was time and did live in Los Angeles while I finished. Ironically, I decided it was definitely not for me. Way too many narcissists. Plus, there was something about this place that felt like home, like I belonged here, which is weird since I didn’t have one clue what that actually felt like, and the people here were not exactly welcoming. Regardless, I couldn’t wait to come back. When I graduated, I came back here with absolutely no plan. But as luck would have it, I applied for the position with Brody and, voila, here I am. I feel lucky, but not guilty over my good fortune.” Her pretty features clouded over as she sipped from her glass. “The first eighteen years of my life sucked bad enough that I guess the universe figured it owed me.”