Thirteen
END OF MARCH
Walking into Turfway Park was what I imagined walking into a Vegas casino would be like. Slot machine noises went off around me as I squinted to see in the dimly lit building. Last time we came to Turfway, I’d barely peeked inside the main building. This time, I was meeting Aaron.
He’d asked me to hear him out. I couldn’t help but remember Tuck’s comment about Aaron needing to see Jesus. Did that mean I should continue with the article? I feared I’d spend too much time trying to shield my parents from any hidden agenda Aaron had.
Not to mention that talking about my feelings around transracial adoption wasn’t as freeing as it was initially. I had known the topic would come up—I was an African American with Caucasian parents—but talking to another minority about my upbringing ended up making me feel less than. Aaron was a whole lot more in touch with his ethnicity than I was, and toward the end of our sessions, I was left feeling more uncomfortable than safe.
I’d always been an oddity. Thankfully, people in Eastbrook had long since stopped staring at me when I walked by, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still get peculiar looks when I ventured out of our small town. If I was with my parents or Tuck, there was a higher chance of stares and whispered comments—some subtle and others more in your face.
I wished I was used to the unwanted and unwarranted attention. I wished I could say they no longer bothered me. But I had yet to arrive at that level of self-assuredness. Often my twenty-eight-year-old self still felt like the insecure kid from ?l?r? Ilé waiting for my biological family to reach out to me or for my newly adoptive parents to ask how it felt to be the only Black person in our town. As much as I loved my dad, his response had always been not to engage. Unfortunately, that didn’t really address the issue.
And Mama... Well, I’m not actually sure how she felt. As I was growing up, she’d tried to connect me to my roots. She thought it was important to understand my birth country. As a kid, I even had a few pen pals from ?l?r? Ilé. Dad thought it unnecessary since we lived in America, the melting pot. He believed being raised by loving parents was all that mattered. Which I could agree with to an extent, but he didn’t have to grow up in a skin many shades darker than those around him.
I’d lived for the moments I got to leave Eastbrook and see people who resembled me. Representation was often the reason I’d reach for a book that had a lady on the cover with the same dark brown skin as mine. Knowing there were authors and cover designers willing to give minority voices representation touched me in ways I didn’t share with many. Representation colored my social media account and everything around me. But so did my Kentucky roots and love for bluegrass and country music. I was the very definition of a melting pot.
Now if only I could boldly say that to Aaron so he could understand that these were my sum-total parts.
Perhaps I should start practicing being vulnerable with my BFF so talking with strangers wouldn’t cripple me. Wasn’t I tired of keeping my thoughts close to my chest? How would Tuck react if he could read my every thought? Wouldn’t I like the opportunity to read his?
When we’d watched Never Been Kissed a week ago, Tuck seemed more quiet than usual. No, not quiet. Introspective. Like he had something on his mind and wouldn’t share it unless I pried with all my might. The thing was, I rarely pried. I understood what it was like to want to keep your thoughts safe from those who could be hurt by what you were contemplating.
I blew out a breath when I saw Aaron. He stood by the restaurant entrance, hands in his slack pockets. He turned and froze as our gazes met. Too bad the eye contact didn’t have any meet-cute vibes. Instead, I was trying very hard to maintain a neutral expression. I hadn’t forgotten that this man was the reason my parents’ names were being dragged through the mud. Tuck’s suggestion was the only reason I was still talking to Aaron Wellington III.
“You’re looking good, Piper.”
Why would I need to hear that from him? “Do they have a table ready for us?”
“Yes. I was just waiting for you. Didn’t want you to get lost looking for me.”
Right.Like I couldn’t ask the hostess where he was sitting. The urge to let my eyes rotate in their sockets was strong, but the Holy Spirit kept me from activating the action.
The hostess maneuvered through the tables and sat us at a table for two with even dimmer lighting. I hung my purse over the back of the chair and placed the cloth napkin across my lap. Manners, Piper, Mama would surely say if she were present.
“You wanted to talk?” I asked.
Aaron smiled. “Let’s chat first.”
Why? What was with the oil-salesman vibe he was emoting? But my thoughts remained just that. “Fine.” I folded my hands and tilted my head. “Have you talked to your reporter friend about getting his colleagues to vacate Bolt Brook’s premises?”
“Now, Piper, it’s already all over the national news.” Aaron gave me a placating smile. “There’s nothing he can do about it. His media outlet won’t leave until everyone else does.”
I detested patronization or mansplaining.
My phone hadn’t stopped ringing since the news broke. I could only imagine the toll on my folks. Mama would probably need counseling after this was all said and done. “Can’t you make them leave sooner?” Surely reporters called in favors to others.
Then again, in the movies they seemed to actively hate one another.
“That’s not how the news works.”
“It should. It’s not like my folks will give a statement, nor will the media find anything by camping outside their farm.”
Aaron leaned forward. “Be realistic. If they did something illegal, they should be held accountable.”
The nerve!My folks would never do anything to jeopardize Bolt Brook. No one who worked for them would do something so heinous either. “They are not guilty.”
“Are you sure?” Aaron’s eyebrows rose. “Most folks have blind spots when it comes to those close to them. I’m surprised the RMTC hasn’t looked into your trainer.”
If I were a cat, every hair on my spine would be standing at attention and my paws ready to strike. “You sincerely think Tuck could ever do something like that?” I stared at him. “Are you the reason the RMTC came to our farms?”
Something shifted in Aaron’s gaze. “What? When did that happen?” He placed his arms on the table, his lanky frame bent over.
“An RMTC agent tested our horses last week.”
“I didn’t start that.” Aaron blew out a breath. “I wouldn’t. You’re my subject.”
Subject? Very telling. Funny how I ever thought this man was kind or sincere. “Did you or did you not call someone to look into my parents, putting this whole ball into motion?” Ugh, I hated using clichés, but this one was so apt.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose you want an apology.”
“What am I even doing here, Aaron? You said you wanted me to hear you out. I thought you’d start with an apology. Maybe even tell me why you were still the right person to tell this story.” I swallowed. “I genuinely believed you were the right person to talk to. I prayed over this before I said yes to you. I had some idea you’d shine a light on a sport I love dearly and show how important inclusion was. Instead, I get the feeling you’d rather stir up trouble than document facts.”
His expression hardened. “Excuse me if I don’t want to jump on the white savior train. Doesn’t it bother you that white people adopt kids who look like us and then stick them in a small town where they don’t see anyone who looks like them? You can’t tell me that hasn’t done something to your psyche. You love a sport no one cares about only because of who adopted you.”
My chair screeched back, and I was on my feet before the movement even registered in my mind. “You can’t tell me that being raised by loving parents and having all my needs met isn’t better than rotting away in an orphanage where want is all that’s in abundance.” I had my issues. Who wouldn’t with my background? But no one would ever make me believe my parents were wrong for wanting to love a child.
“I’m done.” I grabbed my purse.
Aaron stood, coming to stand by me. “Come on, Piper. We can talk about this. You and me, we understand each other.”
“No, we don’t. I thought you’d see me for me. I thought you’d be able to give me something I’ve been longing for.” Identity. Representation. I’d been so foolish. But man couldn’t be the source of my identity. Only God could fulfill that role.
I straightened my shoulders. “You see only your agenda and nothing else. That doesn’t make you a good writer. That makes you a good salesman. Consider this article dead. Don’t contact me again.”
I purposely tilted my chin so he could see me walk away with my head held high. Only, my bottom lip trembled. I wasn’t a fan of confrontation, but Aaron Wellington wasn’t the man I thought he was.
Following the signs to the hotel rooms, I made it to the elevators before a tear spilled over my cheek. It was pointless to cry over this, but I couldn’t seem to make my tear ducts agree. I pressed the number for my floor while trying to hide the waterworks.
The elevator doors whooshed open, and I let out a sigh of relief. No one was in the conveyance, saving me the embarrassment of explaining my sorrow. I peered into my purse, searching for the key card to my room. Why was this thing like a black hole, swallowing up whatever landed in it?
“Piper? Is your meeting over that fast?”
I made a show out of digging in my bag as I came to stand in front of my door. “Mm-hmm.” If I said anything else, Tuck would know something was up.
When a brush of air caressed my nape and his scent enveloped me, I knew it was too late to hide my tears.
“It didn’t go well?” he whispered.
“Not now, Tuck.” I tapped the key card and pushed open the door to my room.
Tuck stayed me, his warm hand lightly holding my wrist and turning me to face him. “Did he say something to upset you?” The scowl that overtook his handsome face almost did me in. “I’ll go find him.”
Now I was the one holding on to Tuck. “Please don’t.” I didn’t want him coming to my rescue right then. I just wanted to wallow in pity.
“I have to do something,” he said. “You know I can’t stand to see you cry.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb.
The dam broke, and I threw my arms around him, sobbing into his shirt. Why couldn’t life be easier? Why couldn’t all the answers I’d ever needed be found in an instant?
Tuck pulled me tighter into his embrace and cradled my head, then let me just be. Tuck never tried to change me. Tuck had never not encouraged me. Tuck had always been there, and right now, loving him as merely a friend tore me up inside.
I cried for losing an imagined connection with Aaron. I shed tear after tear for not being honest with Tuck. I cried for my folks and the awful reality they were going through.
When I lifted my head from Tuck’s chest, I found myself in the sitting area of my suite. Tuck had maneuvered us onto the couch with me bundled into his arms on his lap. I hadn’t even been cognizant of his moving us from the doorway.
“How long did I cry?”
He shrugged. “Until your heart said what it had to say.”
“Thank you, Tucker Hale.” I laid my head against his chest.
“Anytime.” He paused. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. Aaron’s a jerk.” I sat up. “But I told him how I felt in a really classy way.”
Tuck’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah? How did he take it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t look back.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I wish.”
Tuck went rigid under me.
I lifted my head to stare into his wide blue eyes. “What? What’s wrong? Oh my goodness, am I too heavy?” I jumped up.
But he pulled me down until I flopped back onto his lap. “What. Did. You. Say?”
“I asked if I was too heavy.” I stared in confusion. “Why do you think I tried to give your lap a break?”
Tuck snorted. “You weigh less than some jockeys do. That’s neither here nor there. What did you say before that?”
I racked my brain, relaying our conversation.
“That’s my girl.”
I wish.
My breath hitched.
Lord, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.
“What did you hear?” My heart thumped.
“Don’t play games with me, Piper McKinney. Repeat it. Please.”
I licked my lips. “I wish.”
Tuck surged forward, and his lips crashed into mine with such passion I instantly warmed from the inside out.