Chapter 34
D alia parked in town and stood on the corner waiting for Kenyon to pick her up to go back to Amberton.
She scanned Main Street as she waited on this pleasantly warm day, marveling at Farmdale’s charm and the fantastic reality that soon she and Mama would have their own bakery right down the street.
“Oh lordy, there’s no telling what somebody will do with that once I warn them that poor Chad wants them to keep their hands off,” Kenyon said.
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll do whatever Chad wants. Ha.”
Kenyon changed the topic, telling Dalia about the professor’s investigation into Amberton’s Dr. Upton and her suspicion he could have been selling babies.
She explained the Georgia Tann case and Dalia was stunned that she could have been part of something like that.
Kenyon could tell she’d dumped a lot of information on her friend all at once, perhaps too much.
Dalia became pension, mulling over all she’d heard.
Kenyon respected her need for silence for a bit, then shifted gears.
“I’ve talked it over with the professor – she said we should call her Inez – anyway, she agreed with me that we should go to the jail first to see if Prissy is there.
Didn’t it seem like she had more to tell us?
She’s pretty gossipy and she seemed to like us, so maybe we can learn more from her. ”
“Maybe. I like her.”
“Yeah, so do I. I think you’ll like the professor, too. She’s one of a kind.”
“Kenyon, have you noticed that you and I have a lot in common? I mean, we’re so different but so much alike. I think we’ve become friends. Am I right?”
“Sure. What all do you think we have in common?”
Kenyon navigated a turn that made them pause until driving straight ahead again.
“We’re both adopted,” Dalia noted. “We each got adopted in a very unusual way. Neither of us has ever met our biological parents. But we’re both so lucky to have the parents we have.”
“Yeah, we are. But when we were kids, we were both teased because we didn’t look like our parents.”
“True. As grown-ups, we’ve both lost friends because of our situations. I mean, you lost Tamara.”
“Turns out she wasn’t much of a friend. Who did you lose?”
“Oh, I had a nice little group of friends when I was in high school. But when I got pregnant, they dumped me like yesterday’s fish.
Suddenly, I was an immoral heathen. A couple of them are cordial now when I see them in town, but the friendship is over.
I didn’t finish school; I got my GED. That’s a very low-class thing to do by their standards. I’m nothing more than a hick to them.”
“Well, you’re not a hick to me. Or if you are, so am I. Sayonara, old fake friends.”
“We’ve both been deeply hurt by men we loved, too,” Dalia added, to which Kenyon nodded sadly.
“And we’re lucky to have such great families that supported us through all that.
When I was so heartbroken and lonely and scared – and pregnant as an elephant – my parents were amazing.
That’s why a part of me isn’t sure I want to find out something that might be disappointing to me or hurtful to my mama and ruin the peace we have as a family.
But another part of me feels uncontrollably drawn to knowing who my biological parents might be.
Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever wonder about your Vietnamese mother and her family? ”
Kenyon bit her lower lip, afraid to answer. “I have to admit, I’ve thought about it from time to time. But I’m like you – afraid. I know I could have all kinds of relatives over there. Aunts, uncles, cousins, even grandparents. Who knows? I don’t. And I’m not ready to.”
“That’s fair. So that gives you an idea of what I’m going through.”
“It does. I admire your bravery in facing it head on.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Shoot.”
“If it turns out to be absolutely horrific, if we find out that a prostitute and an axe murderer hooked up to make me, will you turn and run with me?”
Kenyon tossed her friend a wide grin. “Of course. You can count on me to run when the going gets tough. Remember my wedding-funeral?”
“Oh yes, I remember.”
“Hey, speaking of weddings, how are you and the deputy getting along?”
Dalia blushed. “Um, well. Really well.”
“I see. Huh. Well done. He’s a total hunk.”
“Yeah. That’s only half of it. I told him I love him.”
“Wow. Did he say it back?”
“He said it first.”
“Oh my god! That never happens. At least not to anybody I know. Dalia, I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah, well, it almost seems too good to be true.”
“My dad insists that sometimes ‘too good to be true is true.’ It can happen.”
“Your dad’s a great guy, isn’t he?”
“Yup. He and my mom are still so in love.”
“So were my parents. My dad was a great guy, too. I know my mama misses him something awful. When Brody came over for supper last night, he danced her around the kitchen. She was so happy to have a man in the house again.”
“See? Too good to be true can be true. It was for them. Now it’s your turn.”
“And what about your turn? Have you met anybody? I know it hasn’t been long since Chad, but is there anybody else in the picture?”
“No. Well, not realistically. I met a nice guy in Cabos. An American. I don’t even know his last name. I call him Bart the Bartender. But he was very sweet to me. It felt good to know I’m not a total troll and somebody could be attracted to me.”
“Don’t say that! You’re not a troll. That’s stupid Chad the Cad talking.”
“Yes. You’re right. I need to get him out of my head. And I need more time between my wedding-funeral and another relationship so I don’t make the same mistake again.”
“Your time will come.”
“I hope so. If it doesn’t, I’ll be living with my parents and watching them be in love for the rest of my days. Gag.”
She pulled up at the truck stop and a spritely, elderly woman in jeans, a pretty blouse, and bright red sneakers hopped out of her car. Dr. Inez Crow was ready to get to work.