chapter 19
Once they plugged it into the charger, Sabrina’s phone revealed more than Charlotte had ever wanted to learn about her birth
mother. She’d been hoping to gain some sense of who Sabrina was, where the woman had come from emotionally and geographically—and
whether she’d missed out in some sense by being given away. But what she and Sloane read in Sabrina’s texts and dating-app
messages revealed a part of her birth mother that should’ve remained private.
“Ugh,” Charlotte said with a grimace. “She said whatever she could to keep these guys on the hook.”
“Why do you think that’s the case?” Sloane asked with a grimace. “It was like she had to have someone in reserve at all times.
Why was she never satisfied with who she was with?”
“Hard to say. Insecurity, maybe? She must’ve fed off the compliments and the chase, which is why she pivoted to sexting so
fast. She was always trying to get them stirred up and wanting her.”
“Could be vanity.”
“Human beings are complicated. It’s probably a mixture of things. But wouldn’t a stable, loving relationship be more fulfilling than the fleeting attention of so many men?” Charlotte asked, still trying to figure out how this side of her birth mother made her feel.
“Someone who’s more mature might realize that,” Sloane said, her voice flat with irony. “Sadly, Sabrina seemed pretty shallow.”
“I hate that I agree,” Charlotte said. Everything she’d seen and heard pointed to the same thing. “Steve’s number’s in here,”
she added. “Should I call him?”
“What for?”
“He might be able to put all of this into some context, and context is the only way we can ever truly understand what she
was like.”
Sloane nibbled at her lip. “If you want to,” she said at last. “At least then we can learn more about Lilly, too. That could
help a lot.”
Charlotte was also curious about Steve himself. What had drawn him to Sabrina? He seemed to be a much more admirable person . . .
With the time change, it’d be six o’clock in the morning in Iowa, far too early to call most people. But Steve was a farmer.
She couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t be up.
Taking a cleansing breath, she hit the number on his contact record.
She was rewarded when he answered almost immediately, and after a heartbeat of silence—during which she thought she could
detect surprise—he sounded fully alert. “Sabrina?”
She froze. Did she really have any business bothering a total stranger with her family drama? He was probably relieved to
have Sabrina out of his life.
But he’d picked up. And he’d been good to Lilly. “I’m afraid it isn’t Sabrina, Steve. My name’s Charlotte Williams.”
He didn’t seem to know how to respond. “Who are you, and why do you have Sabrina’s phone?” he asked after a heartbeat or two.
“I’m afraid that . . . Well, I’m sorry to tell you that Sabrina’s no longer with us.”
“What does that mean?”
“She passed away.”
The resulting silence was filled with shock. “You mean she’s dead? How? When?”
“She swerved on a Vespa and…collided with a bus.”
“A bus?” he repeated. “When she was on a Vespa—in Italy?”
“Yes.” Charlotte swallowed against a dry throat. “It happened a few weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Where’s Lilly?” he asked immediately. “Is she okay? Or—”
“Lilly’s fine,” she broke in. “Or as fine as a twelve-year-old could be in her situation. She wasn’t with Sabrina at the time.”
“Thank God. But . . . don’t tell me she’s been left with that guy in Italy.”
“She’s not with him anymore. I have her now.”
“And you are . . .?”
“Her half sister.”
Again, she could feel his surprise. “I wasn’t aware she had a half sister,” he said slowly.
“Sabrina put me up for adoption when she was eighteen. I . . . I never even knew I was adopted. The people who raised me acted
as if I was their own. I would’ve kept believing that, but after Sabrina died, I was contacted about my half sister because
she now has no one to take care of her.”
“Sabrina never mentioned she had . . .”
When he let his words trail off, Charlotte assumed it was because he’d realized how that might make her feel.
“Another child?” Charlotte finished for him. She’d had a good life; it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did that Sabrina had never acknowledged her existence. But she couldn’t override the pain.
“Where’d you grow up?” he asked.
“In LA.”
Silence fell. Then he said, “I guess, on some level, that doesn’t completely surprise me. What’s going to happen to Lilly?”
“That’s what I’m trying to decide. I’m twenty-nine and about to be single. I’m not sure I’m her best long-term option. But
there doesn’t seem to be anyone else. You don’t know anything about her father, do you?”
“Not a lot. Sabrina told me he lives in Mexico. Owns a fishing charter down there.”
“Do you know if Sabrina had any contact with him?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I don’t think so. He hated her. Accused her of getting pregnant on purpose—as an attempt to trap him—and
he wasn’t having it.”
Charlotte gripped her phone tighter. Just how terrible a person was her mother? Although it didn’t seem as if Lilly’s father
was much better. Hers probably wasn’t, either. “After knowing Sabrina, would you say you believe that or . . .?”
“Are you looking for the truth?” he asked.
She winced and braced herself. “Of course.”
“I could believe she’d do something like that, yes—if it suited her.”
Feeling even more deflated, Charlotte dropped her head in her hand and immediately felt Sloane touch her arm in a show of
empathy. “He should still have to pay child support,” she pointed out.
“If he ever comes back to the States, maybe you could go after him,” Steve said. “But it costs money to track someone down—probably
more than you’d ever get out of him. Since he’s in business for himself, it’s pretty easy to hide money. It’s not right, but
it happens.”
So . . . the cost of trying to collect would outweigh the recovery. “That’s not hopeful.”
“There’s what’s right, and then there’s what’s practical. Believe me, if Sabrina thought she could get him to pay, she would’ve
tried.”
Another comment that made her believe her birth mother leaned on others—mostly the men in her life—whenever she could. “I
see.” She cleared her throat. “What about Lilly’s grandparents?”
“Sabrina was an unexpected pregnancy herself. Her mother was on drugs and wasn’t reliable, so she was raised by her grandparents,
and they’re far too old to take on another child.”
“But they’re still around?”
“To a point, I guess. While Sabrina was with me, her grandmother had a stroke. Her grandfather spends what time, energy and
money he has left taking care of her.”
“Even if . . . if they can’t help, it might be good for Lilly to reconnect with them—providing they’re willing. Do you know
their names or how I could contact them? I don’t see them in Sabrina’s phone—but I also don’t know what name to look under.
There’s nothing obvious like ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ or ‘Grandma’ and ‘Grandpa.’”
“Last I heard, there was a big blowup between them, and they were no longer speaking to her. Maybe she deleted them. I’m not
sure. Sabrina didn’t like to dwell on anything she felt she might be responsible for. For the most part, what I’ve learned
came from overhearing her on the phone or observing her behavior.”
“I see.” But there had to be someone . . . “What about other extended family? Did Sabrina keep in contact with anyone else?”
“I got the impression the entire family had written her off.”
“Why?”
A sigh came through the phone. “She burned a lot of bridges, wasn’t easy to love in the first place.”
“Did you love her?” She’d asked Luca the same bold, intrusive question, but Charlotte was willing to risk it—again—because the answer
mattered to her. Did Sabrina burn every single bridge? Did she not learn from her mistakes and do better?
“I tried,” he said softly.
“What drew you to her in the first place?”
“I live in a small town, was hoping to meet someone. She brought fun and excitement. She was always up to something, always
laughing. For someone who’s been entirely about work since I can remember—I was raised on this farm—that was appealing. Too appealing,” he added.
“So what went wrong?”
“There wasn’t enough there beneath the shine,” he replied.
“What about Lilly? You cared for her, didn’t you?”
“I did. I feel bad for her. She’s a good kid. Deserves better.”
“She says you tried to give her ‘better.’”
“I hated to see her taken away from the farm. She was happy here. Loved Old Blue like nothing and no one else.”
Imagining what could’ve been nearly brought a lump to Charlotte’s throat. “Old Blue’s your dog. Luca told me about him. He’s blind, right?”
“Yeah, he’s blind, but not as old as you might think—only about five. I just call him ‘old’ because he reminds me of a horse
I used to have when I was a child. The horse was old,” he said with a chuckle.
“And Lilly and Old Blue were close?”
“Inseparable.”
“Can you send me a picture of him I can show her? She’s going through such a tough time. Maybe it’ll help.”
“You bet. They hit it off immediately,” he told her. “Whoever owned Old Blue before he found a home here with me abused him pretty badly—that’s what happened to his eyesight. The poor boy doesn’t trust easily, but he trusted Lilly.”
Horrified to think anyone would mistreat a dog, especially to the point of blinding him, she straightened. “He lost his eyesight
because of . . . because of abuse?”
“At best, it was negligence. Anyway, I think Old Blue and Lilly were kindred spirits, just trying to heal together.”
Steve seemed like such a kind, decent person. “Would there be any chance that . . . I mean . . . would you mind terribly much
if I were to bring Lilly to town one day to see you and Old Blue? I think she’d love that.”
“Of course. Lilly’s always welcome here. I’d even . . .” He cleared his throat. “I’d even let her live with me if you don’t
want to become her guardian, so don’t feel as if you’re painted into a corner.”
Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “You’d take her in?”