Page 30 of Look for Me

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Doing nothing but waiting alone in his hotel room wasn’t Martin’s idea of a beach vacation on Key Largo. There was nothing he wanted to do. Not boating, fishing, sunbathing, shopping, or anything else tourists did in the Florida Keys.

All he wanted was to have a long talk with Corinne about the last four years of their lives apart. Specifically, he wanted to know why Corinne was running from Dahlia’s father—whoever he was.

And whether they had married.

In a way, Martin didn’t want to know.

Not right now.

He also didn’t want to know if he himself was truly Dahlia’s biological father.

It’s unthinkable, I know.

The lunch at Angelina’s houseboat two hours ago had gone without a hitch. Martin had dutifully remembered to address Corinne as Dinah, or not at all.

Dahlia was a charming three-year-old who seemed to be a happy child, without a care in the world. She had faint red patches all over her arms and legs, which had something to do with ant bites, as Martin was told by several church members.

Martin didn’t remember how he was like at that age. Had he gotten into trouble? Fallen onto an ant hill?

He didn’t recall.

Dressed in a wrinkled tee-shirt he had grabbed from the dryer on Thursday and didn’t take out of his suitcase until just now, Martin stretched out on the rattan lounger by the sliding glass door that overlooked the sandy grove of coconut trees.

The trees loomed above his small deck, and he thought he could reach up and touch the green coconuts.

But it was hot outside, and he’d rather sit here and do nothing.

He had brought his Bible from Savannah. He had read it this morning during his personal quiet time with God. He had paid attention in that little church.

Without a doubt, God had brought him here for such a time as this.

Perhaps all he would be able to do was to make peace with Corinne and then move on with his life.

But he had to know.

Martin closed his eyes in the cool room, enjoying the air-conditioner at full blast.

He knew he had to call Dad. He told his sister he would.

He also probably should call Pastor Flores.

And Ming.

And Tina again.

Martin knew he needed all the help he could get.

Then again, Corinne might need more help than he did.

He had no idea where she lived, but she had no car, worked a minimum wage job, was a single mother with a daughter to feed, living under an assumed name, and did not want her ex-partner to know where she was.

Martin could pretty much guess that no one in Key Largo knew her real name.

How long could she go on like that?

Chapter Fourteen

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