Page 54 of Craving Francesca

“Thank you, this looks good.”

“Welcome,” he replied.

“Okay, back to your family history…”

Gray chuckled and cracked more eggs into the pan.

“Dad insisted that Ma go back and finish her degree. Ma refused. Unenrolled from school and moved back home to be with us. She finished at U of O.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “She always says that when she saw me, it was love at first sight. Couldn’t stand to be away.”

Ugh. My heart.

“I love that.” I took a bite of my bacon. “Quick turnover for your dad though.”

Gray choked.

“I mean, no judgment, but whew.”

“My dad and my birth mother weren’t together when she found out she was pregnant. They never got back together.”

“Oh,” I mused as he sat down across from me, his knees bracketing mine beneath the small table. “What was her name?”

“Ashley Phillips.”

“Ashley Phillips,” I murmured. “Cian’s aunt is named Ashley, too.”

“Pretty common name.”

“You were so little.”

“Don’t remember much about her,” he said as he dug into his food. “Certain smells remind me of her though.”

“Like what?”

“Tide laundry detergent. Fried chicken. A certain perfume. I don’t know the name of it, but every once in a while, I’ll walk past someone wearing it.”

“That sucks, Gray. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. Wish I could’ve known her better, but that wasn’t how it played out.”

“I’m still a little gobsmacked that Lily isn’t your mother.”

“She is in all the ways that count. She raised me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Gray waved it off.

“But, hey, you had two mothers who adored you. I didn’t even have one.”

“No?” he asked, his head tilting to the side in question.

“My mom took off when I was just a baby.” I shrugged. “Me and Dad did all right without her.”

“You ever try to find her?”

“She died when I was nine,” I replied. “Overdose, I think. I’m not actually sure. I just remember my dad sitting me down and letting me know. They never got divorced, so he was notified.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

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