Page 11 of Moonlight Feels Right
"That makes sense," Lexie said with an approving nod. "I'm glad he's coming. And you're very sweet to help him, Emmalyn, especially since he's not the friendliest guy."
"He's not, but I don't believe he's a mean person. Just someone in pain."
Her words brought new expressions to their faces, a mix of speculation and curiosity. She immediately shook her head. "Don't start making something out of nothing," she warned.
"He is very good-looking, even with the rough edges," Kaia said. "You must have noticed that."
She ignored that comment. "I have to go upstairs and grab my cookies." As she went up the steps, her phone buzzed again, and Linda McGuire's name ran across the screen, making her stomach tighten once more. She sent the call to voicemail, but as soon as she got into her apartment, it rang again. Annoyed with the relentless persistence, she picked up the call. "Hello?"
"Finally," her aunt said, a mix of irritation and relief in her voice. "I've been calling you for two days, Emmalyn."
"I've been busy, Aunt Linda. What's so important you need to call me every thirty seconds? Or should I even ask?"
"It's your mother."
"Of course it is. What is it this time? You think she might be finally ready to leave? Because I don't believe that will ever happen, and at some point, you have to give up." She didn't enjoy being so cynical, but she'd finally made peace with the fact that her mother would never change, and she needed her aunt to do the same.
"She's sick, Em."
Her stomach tightened. "How sick?"
"I'm not sure. She needs to go to a doctor, but they won't let her leave the compound. Jeremy tells her to rest and take more herbs."
Jeremy was the latest in a long line of men who had been coupled with her mother, none of whom had ever been good for her.
"How do you even know that?" she asked. Her mother had been living in a commune on a remote farm in the hills north of San Diego. The members of the group called Haven had limited contact with the outside world.
"I go to the farmers' market in Criton once a month. She first showed up there three months ago, and we've met twice since then. We talk for a few minutes when she takes a break."
Her aunt had been haunting the local farmers markets for years, since it was the only place her mother had ever been allowed to go.
"I thought she looked bad the first time I saw her there," Linda continued. "But the last two times, she looked even worse. I told her she has to leave, and for the first time ever she didn't tell me to stop trying to get her to leave Haven. She's scared that she's really sick. I think she's finally ready to cut the ties. And this Sunday is my next and maybe my only chance to make that happen. If you go with me, she won't be able to say no."
"Of course she could say no. I begged her to come with us before, when I was twelve, and the last time I saw her seven years ago, when I was twenty-one. She refused both times, remember? My wishes didn't matter to her then; they won't matter now."
"She was different this last time, Emmalyn. It can't hurt to try, right?"
It could hurt her. She'd finally gotten her life together. She didn't want to go back to the past, to feel conflicted again, to hope that her mom might make a different choice now.
"Emmalyn, please," her aunt begged. "I know it's not fair to ask, but I'm really worried."
Her aunt had always worried about her mother. Sara was Linda's younger sister by three years, and Linda had been living in Europe when Sara had taken her to live at Haven when she was five years old. Her mother had been alone and desperately poor, and the commune had offered her a family and support. It was only later it became clear once you came to Haven, you could never leave. It had taken seven years for her aunt to track them down, and to eventually get her away from the group, but her mom had refused to leave with them. By then, her mother had been brainwashed into thinking the outside world was bad, and the only people who loved her were at Haven.
"Your mom has made a lot of mistakes," Linda continued. "And maybe I'm wrong to ask you to get involved again in her life. You're doing so well now, but I don't know what else to do. This could really be it; the last time I can save my sister. I can't give up on her."
Her aunt's fear was palpable, and Emmalyn drew in a deep breath, struggling with what she needed to do and what she wanted to do.
"Are you still there?" Linda asked, desperation lacing every word.
"I'm here." Her hand tightened on the phone. "All right. I'll come to the farmers' market on Sunday, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. My mother has never taken my feelings into consideration—nor yours, for that matter."
"I keep hoping, Em."
"I know. Hope is a hard thing to let go of, but sometimes you have to."
Her aunt ignored her comment. "I'll be there at ten thirty. She usually takes a break around eleven. I'll send you the address and directions. Unless you want to go with me? I can pick you up. Or you can come by here?"
Her aunt lived twenty minutes in the opposite direction. "I'll meet you at the market."
