20. Graham
TWENTY
GRAHAM
“Not sure it’s a good time for you to be here.”
I’d missed this woman. She was sweet and southern and everything you pictured if you imagined a woman running a business in the South on her own. Her hair was curled but pulled back with more gray in it than there was six years ago. She was more rounded, but it was the way the left side of her mouth drooped a bit when she talked. And the way her arm hung loosely at her side that grabbed my attention more than the worry piercing her golden-brown eyes.
“I had Jonah in my camp this week. I have questions, you know?”
“Not sure how you can when you darn well know he’s not yours.”
If I were younger, I’d be embarrassed if someone close to who could have been my mother’s age knew about my sex life.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have questions, and frankly, you owe me this, Caroline. You kept me away from her.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t do anything except protect my own, and like I said, now’s not a good time.”
I scanned the restaurant, where only a couple of tables were taken. It’d fill up soon, though, hopefully. “Because she’s so busy?”
I couldn’t keep my sarcasm hidden, and Caroline scowled at me.
“Mr. Graham!” The door slammed open, and Caroline jumped out of the way as the cute little kid I’d spent practically all day with ran up to me. “You should eat dinner with me! It’s so boring here when Mommy has to work. You like onion strings? Aunty Caroline makes the best.”
“I know, Jonah. I’ve had them before.”
“You have?” he asked like I’d told him Santa was coming tonight. “When?”
“Back when we were friends at the big school, Jonah,” Holly said. She stepped through the doors, looking at me like she was dreading every step she took.
Jonah smiled wide, and I glimpsed the similarity between them, along with the differences. Same eyes. Same shape and color and everything. No wonder why I’d been drawn to this little guy. She wasn’t smiling, but that wasn’t anything new. Every time I pulled a smile or laugh from Holly, it felt like I’d won a battle. Now that I knew more about her life, I understood.
Knowing what I learned before she ran from me, I now understood a lot from our time together back then. The way she guarded herself, the way simple gestures like how dinner seemed to mean everything to her. The fact that the first time she’d melted into me meant so much more to her and her ability to let someone in than it had to me at the time.
Questions raced and fought themselves for first place in my mind, but there were so many, and she was standing in front of me, guarded all over again.
She was dressed in the same clothes she had on earlier. The only new addition was the apron she used to wear when she worked. Another question flared.
Here? She worked here ? Still?
“I shouldn’t even be surprised you’re here,” she finally said, scanning the restaurant. “You always were tenacious.”
There was a slight tease in her tone, which gave me hope she wasn’t going to kick me out.
“Can we talk?”
“Yes!” Jonah bounced on his toes. “Mommy, I told Coach he could have dinner with me. He said he loves Aunty Care’s onion strings.”
“Rings,” Holly corrected. “They’re rings.”
“They’re so tiny like my shoestrings, though. And delicious.” He grinned up at all of us.
“How about you help me go make them, then?” Caroline said and held out her hand. “Let’s give your mom a chance to get caught up with her friend.”
“But…”
“No buts, Jonah,” Holly said. She smiled down at him, but her tone was firm. “Go with Caroline. We’ll eat later.”
She was a mom . How had this happened?
“Fine,” he muttered and slinked back through the kitchen. The door swung slowly back and forth behind him.
Caroline tossed me a small smile over her shoulder. “You look good, Graham. Hope you’re well.”
“I am, ma’am. Thank you.”
At least I was . Before today. Before everything went ass over teakettle, like my grandmother used to say when describing how everything fell apart.
“We can go sit,” Holly said. She moved toward a table piled with crayons and markers and books, and I imagined it was Jonah’s table when he had to be here.
I followed her to the table and shoved some of the books to the side when she sat down on one side, staying at the edge. She was ready to jump and bolt, and I couldn’t blame her.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I admitted, and it probably wasn’t the best first thing to say.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t expect to see you at Jonah’s camp.”
“Touché. So…hockey, huh?”
A pink glow rose on her cheeks, and she looked out the window toward the parking lot. “He likes it, and I want him to have the things he likes.”
There was a soft smile curling her lips, and my chest squeezed.
In my youth and stupidity and thinking I could crack through her walls with patience and time, I’d dreamed of being the one to give her that.
We were older now, though, and I’d spent the last few hours trying to figure out what to say to her. Hell, I’d spent the last six years thinking about it.
Which was probably why I broke the silence and blurted, “I understand, you know, why you left. You were right back then. Sophie, Piper, our families…” I shook my head and shrugged. It was so easy to see why she assumed the mountains between us back then were insurmountable. They weren’t, not really. But from her perspective, I could see why she thought it. “That would have made things really difficult.”
Holly’s lips pressed together, and her shoulders heaved as she sucked in a breath. “I always felt bad for letting you know so cruelly. I could have found a better way.”
“Well, your dad calling from prison wasn’t the best time, but I get it. We were young, and you did what you thought was best.”
She reached for a set of rolled up silverware, removed the paper wrap, and unfolded the napkin.
“So, you’re here now? You stayed.”
She was still so pretty, even with her sad eyes that seemed to get sadder when I asked the question. There had always been something so enthralling about Holly. Maybe some of it had to do with the mysteries she cloaked herself in, but the rest was all her. Beneath the exterior she’d had to grow, there was a softness I’d craved to discover.
It appeared at random times, in the smallest moments, but there were enough flashes of it to keep me hooked.
“Things happened, life changed. I needed Caroline’s help with Jonah, and she needed mine.”
There was a wistful expression on her face, telling me it wasn’t all bad, but she still had dreams.
“Can I ask? About Jonah?”
“I don’t know his father, if that’s what you’re asking.” There was a bite in her tone.
I had the sense I should tread carefully, but that wasn’t really my style, and it never was when it came to Holly. “He’s the same age, Holly…and we never…”
She picked at the napkin and stayed looking at the table where she was peeling the napkin apart. “He’s not mine. At least, I didn’t give birth to him, but he is my son.”
“I don’t understand.”
She lifted her head, and the coldness in her eyes made me lean into the booth’s back behind me.
“You don’t have to. Why are you here, Graham?”
“Because I saw you and knew I’d regret it if I didn’t come and find you. Pretend we were nothing more than friends, if you have to, but I wanted to catch up. See how you were.”
“And figure out if I was with Jonah’s dad when we were together? If I cheated?” She shook her head back with force. “I’m past the days of letting people create their own versions of me. The day Jonah was handed to me was the day I stopped living in fear and irritation of what everyone else thought of me. He became the only one that mattered, and he still is.”
“Easy.” I lifted my hands, palms facing her in surrender. “I’m not here to get the dirt, Holly. Have you considered the fact that maybe I’ve thought of you over the years, wondered about you? Maybe I came here tonight for the closure I should have gotten all those years ago.”
I didn’t even think about her cheating. She wouldn’t do something like that. It took me thirty seconds to clock her character, and she didn’t have that kind of betrayal in her. It was one of the few things I was certain of.
Ire spiked, and that same pain returned, the pain of watching her leave, the horrible truth she’d flung at my feet. I’d been nothing but good to her . Sure, I told her it was in the past. That I understood. All those things were true, but now she was sitting across from me. Angry. Frankly, I hadn’t done anything to deserve it except start to fall in love with her.
She sucked in a breath and her shoulders fell, the fight left her in a gentle wave. “Tell me about you. The camp. What you’re doing now. Are you teaching?”
“Northwest of Charlotte, in Denver. I had to substitute teach for a while, but I was hired to coach right away. I took a teaching job once one opened.”
“That’s good.” She smiled. It was soft, but there was genuine happiness in it, too. “You’re doing everything you wanted. Is that why you were at the camp?”
“An old teammate puts it on every year, and this was the first year it worked for me to get here and help out. It’s summer break, and my own school’s season is over, so I thought it’d be fun.”
“You always loved the game. Jonah talked my ear off about you all the way home.”
“He seems like a good kid. You’ve done well with him, Holly. I hope you’re proud of that.”
“Raising Jonah is the best thing I’ve ever done. The only thing I care about.”
“Tell me, then, tell me the truth. How is he yours?”
I leaned forward and rested my forearms on the table. I needed to know. Was it a guy before me? A guy right after? But she’d said she didn’t give birth to him…
Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek. I gave her time. Giving Holly time came as naturally as breathing.
“He’s my half-brother.”