chapter 18 #2
“She already has a tablet for her schoolwork. She can go on the internet whenever she wants. And there are restrictions you
can put on phones that block children from certain sites.”
“Even if that’s true, a smartphone will give her greater access to social media, and social media is so unhealthy for young
girls. I don’t want her to compare herself to other kids her age who seem to have everything—or constantly feel left out because
it appears as if everyone’s having fun except her.”
Sloane opened her box. “She has to be feeling pretty left out now. I think a smartphone would reconnect her. Make her feel less vulnerable. Besides, we can teach her the proper perspective.”
Charlotte looked up in surprise. “We can teach her the proper perspective? In a month?”
“Probably not in a month, but . . .”
Charlotte set the curling iron and other hair care products she’d found in her box to the side. “I thought you were against
me keeping her.”
“I’m just being more cautious than Julian. I want to be sure it’s what’s best for both you and Lilly. But since you lead with your heart, just like my brother, you’ll probably do it, regardless.”
Charlotte started to laugh.
“What?” Sloane grumbled with a scowl.
“Lilly’s growing on you already, isn’t she?”
Sloane responded with a sheepish shrug. “She’s not a bad kid.”
Charlotte was about to say Lilly was a good kid.
She was truly beginning to believe that, despite Luca’s take.
But the words caught in her throat. She’d thought it might take an hour or more to dig through all the boxes and was frustrated that Luca would mix something as important as Sabrina’s cellphone in with all her other belongings.
But Sabrina’s purse was right beneath the hair tools—and the phone was inside it.
“So would it be okay if we talked about your mother a little bit?” Julian asked as he watched Lilly pick at the chocolate-filled
croissant he’d just bought her. They were sitting at a table on the narrow street that went through the heart of Praiano,
taking in the sights and sounds of the quaint little town. A few cars and several Vespas zipped by, but most people were on
foot. Tourists were scarce this early; it was mostly locals buying groceries, sweeping sidewalks and opening shops.
“What do you want to know about her?” she asked, keeping her gaze on her plate.
Julian took a drink of his oat-milk latte. “Nothing too personal, just general stuff.”
Her expression still wary, she glanced up. “Like . . .”
He shrugged, keeping it casual. “Was she a happy person?”
Lilly seemed to be okay with that question. “Most of the time, I guess.”
“What kinds of things did she like to do?”
“Shop. Go to the beach. Shop,” she said again with a fond smile.
Lilly had a sense of humor, Julian realized and smiled back. “What kinds of things did she buy?”
“Clothes, shoes, makeup.”
Julian assumed those things weren’t for Lilly or Lilly would’ve made that clear. “She liked to dress up and go out?”
She nodded. “I think that’s why she didn’t want to stay in Iowa.”
“Because there was nowhere to go?”
“It was a really small town. She used to tell Steve, ‘It doesn’t even have a movie theater.’ And we lived out on a farm with
nothing but corn around us.”
“Did you hate it there, too?”
She took a bite of the croissant. “No,” she replied as she chewed. “I loved it.”
“What did you love about it?”
She thought for a moment. Then she said, “A lot of things. The tire swing Steve put up. The big porch on the old house where
he’d sit in the rocking chair that used to belong to his parents and have a drink at night. The apple tree—apples have never
tasted so good. But mostly Old Blue.”
“Who’s Old Blue?”
“My dog. Well, Steve’s dog. In a way. He didn’t buy him or anything. He said Old Blue just showed up one day and moved in,
and Steve allowed him to stay. Blue was blind and lived in the barn. I tried to get him to move inside the house with me,
but he liked to be by the horses.”
“You two became friends?”
“Best friends,” she confirmed.
“Is that the only pet you’ve ever had?”
“I had a cat once. But my mom made me give him away when we moved because he shed a lot and scratched up the furniture. And
she said it was too expensive to take care of him, that it was hard enough just to take care of me.”
“How long ago was that?”
“I was in the fourth grade.”
She seemed to feel safe and unthreatened by the conversation, so he continued, “Have you had any contact with your grandparents
over the years?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She frowned. “They didn’t get along with my mom, didn’t like what she did.”
“All that shopping?” he asked with a grin.
A brief smile curved her lips, but then she looked down. “And all the men. Moving around. Leaving me home to go out. That sort of thing.”
“They made that clear?”
“I could hear them fighting. They fought a lot,” she added ruefully.
“Did they like the farmer?”
“Steve? They never met him. They were out of our lives by then.”
They hadn’t tried to stay in contact with their granddaughter? That was unfortunate. She’d obviously needed them, but maybe
Sabrina had made it impossible.
“Where do they live? Are they still in California?”
She shrugged.
He wanted to ask more about Sabrina’s parents but didn’t want to make her feel bad, especially when she was just coming out
of her shell a little bit. “What about aunts and uncles? Do you have any of those?”
“My mother’s sister was the good daughter. My mom used to say she was the black sheep of the family.”
He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back. “Meaning your mother was the bad daughter?”
“I guess. Aunt Justine had a skiing accident and is in a wheelchair these days, I think.” She pushed her plate away, leaving
her croissant only half-eaten. “Are you looking for someone to take me? Are you going to ask about my dad next? Because he
says my mother got pregnant on purpose, to trap him, and he doesn’t care what happens to us.”
“How do you know that? You heard him say it?”
“My mom told me.” She sighed. “Steve’s the only one who ever wanted me. I would’ve stayed there, but my mom said he must be
a perv like Walter to want to keep a young girl in the house.”
Apprehension bit deeply as he asked, “Perv as in pervert?”
She nodded.
“Who’s Walter?”
Her face went dark. “The guy we lived with in Colorado.”
“What was he like?”
“Never mind. I don’t want to talk about him,” she said and the way she clamped her lips into a thin, straight line told Julian
she was done talking.
He didn’t press her. He wanted her to feel safe, to trust him. But he made a mental note of the name of Sabrina’s Colorado
boyfriend, and when Lilly went to the bathroom, he texted Charlotte. Is there a Walter in Sabrina’s phone?
He didn’t get an answer, so he figured he’d have to talk to her about it later. Lilly’s whole demeanor had changed when she
mentioned that name. Something had happened with “Walter,” and it wasn’t hard to guess that it’d made a significant impact.