Page 70 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
Geraldine’s lips pursed. “Are you sure you’re all right? You know, I’ve lost people too. If you ever need to talk.”
I hesitated, and Kev cleared his throat. “I’ll go start up the truck.”
Then the bastard left me there with Geraldine’s too-knowing eyes.
“It’s not that kind of loss,” I hedged. “My mother made this pie. My parents are divorced, and she moved away…”
I trailed off, unsure why I was telling her all this.
“That’s another kind of loss, but sometimes no less painful,” Geraldine said, squeezing my arm. “I lost my daughter that way. We argued over something that seems silly now. All those years wasted.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’d give anything to mend fences, but I fear it’s been too long. It’s too late for me, but maybe not for you and your mother, hmm?”
My chest tightened. For the first time, I felt uncertain. Had my anger to my mother been unfair? Should I talk to her again? When she’d left, she’d been filled with such girlish excitement about living her life. She’d said, “Don’t let life pass you by. You’re too much like me, Cooper. Too eager to please…”
I’d barely made sense of her words. I’d been so hurt, so angry that she would run off on an adventure without us. But then she’d written that letter, telling me how much she wished we could talk again, have a real relationship. Her emotions had leapt off the page, twisted me up, made me wonder if I’d been too harsh. And now that I’d met Trace, it was difficult not to see some parallels. What if she’d felt as paralyzed with our family as I felt in school? It hurt to know we weren’t the life she wanted, but were Mom and I really so different?
If I couldn’t forgive her, how could I ever allow myself any happiness when I knew in my heart that I wanted the same things she did: freedom, happiness, love. It unsettled me, but it wasn’t something I could reconcile just now. Trace would be waiting.
“Thanks, Geraldine. I should really go.”
She cast a look out the window. “It looks like rain,” she said. “You boys cleaned the gutters?”
Shit, had we? That was one item I hadn’t thought to include on my checklist. I checked the time. I might be a few minutes late, but it should be fine.
“I’ll make sure before I go,” I assured her, hurrying out the door to grab a ladder.
Kev was waiting in the pickup, as promised. I held up a finger so he’d know I’d be ready soon, then grabbed the ladder and braced it against the house.
My thoughts were still on my mother, my grades, and Trace as I climbed the rungs. Everywhere but on the ladder and my balance. And as I reached the top, my foot slipped. I rocked to the side, and before I could catch myself—
I fell.
* * *
TRACE
I parked the pickup and crossed the lawn to shake hands with Jim, one of the locals who’d delivered equipment for our use. We exchanged a few pleasantries, talked shop about the tree’s positioning and best plan of attack, and then he took off. Unlike us, Jim had paying jobs waiting.
Mr. Lemmings came out as the crew got into position.
“Have you heard from Cooper?” I asked the older man.
He shook his head. “No, sir. I expected to see him about now.”
I checked the time on my phone. I was certain that Cooper had said he would be here by 11 a.m. We’d gotten on the road at five in the morning to make it here.
I tried texting him, but there was no reply. With a frown, I pocketed my phone and returned to the crew. My gut was telling me it wasn’t right that Cooper hadn’t arrived.
Logically, I knew any number of things could have held him up. But logic didn’t halt my unease.
About twenty minutes later, my phone rang. I answered it, relieved to see Cooper’s name.
“Where are you, brat?”
“Mr. Rutledge?” an unfamiliar voice said.
“Uh, no.” I double checked my phone. The call was definitely from Cooper’s cell. “This is Trace Laurie.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
