Page 11 of Take Me Slowly: part 2
"No," I said with a short laugh. "I guess I'm just trying to get my head around a few things."
So many things. Feeling as though her bedroom was familiar was one thing, but putting everything else together was another. If the police searched for her, why was Josiah still so convinced she was taken? I supposed it was possible he was suffering from some kind of mental illness that messed with his memories. The reality might have been so traumatic he blocked it out, replacing it with something easier to take.
I might be suffering from the same thing. Imagining myself as her, growing up with people who loved her, not a family who were indifferent most of the time. I considered opening a gallery in town, but maybe what we really need was a good therapist. Would Josiah see them if they set up practice here? Maybe if he was dragged, kicking and screaming. Chances were, that was what it would take.
"It was a shocking thing to happen," Carly agreed. "Everyone kept a closer eye on all the kids after that. Well, as much as anyone could with some of them being wild." She laughed.
"I think I can guess who you're referring to." I smiled. Connor and Riley would have gone on doing the same crazy things, regardless. "Can I ask one more question?"
She flapped a hand at me. "Go ahead."
"Josiah's parents. They used to work at the lodge?" I asked.
"That's right," Carly said. "Franco and?—"
"Tatiana," I said without thinking.
Carly squinted at me. "Yes, Tatiana. How did you know?"
I placed my coffee cup down on the table. "I don't know, I must have heard it somewhere. What did they think about all of this? They must have been concerned about their son."
"Honestly, they always kept to themselves," Carly said after a moment's thought. "They were busy working. She'd come into town once in a while, but never said much."
"So you don't know if she believed Josiah or not?" I asked. If a mother couldn't believe her own son, then who would? Although, if it was my mother, she'd probably agree with the town and lose no sleep over it. Maybe I wasn't giving her much credit, but that was how I felt.
"No idea," Carly admitted. "If I recall someone said they asked her once and she changed the subject. We can be a nosy bunch, but we also know when to keep our noses out of otherpeople's business. Some of the time." She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
"It would be a difficult subject to talk about, I suppose," I said.
"Absolutely," Carly agreed. "I can say this, though. Tatiana Lachance adores her son. So does Franco. It wouldn't surprise me if they believed him, but said nothing because they knew no one would listen." She twisted her mouth to the side in frustration. She loved the town, but saw its flaws as well.
"I hope they did," I said sincerely. "He seems lonely up there." He'd be the last one to admit that, but in those few moments where we almost got along with each other, he seemed to enjoy the connection. He might not even be aware of how much he needed it.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a thing for him," she teased.
I picked my cup back up, inhaling the delicious smell. "Maybe I do."
"Someone should," she said. "But be careful. This town can be…very small sometimes." She swivelled her eyes back and forth as if we might have people spying on us right here in the middle of the café. Apart from us, only two other people were here, sitting by the wall in quiet conversation. They hadn't taken their eyes off each other since I arrived. No, they weren't watching us.
"I've noticed that," I said, with no judgement. For the most part, the town welcomed me with open arms. They included me in just about every aspect of life here. In return, everyone knew everyone's business, including mine. Most of the time, that wasn't a bad thing. I wasn't doing anything scandalous after all. Unless they'd be scandalised by my relationship with Riley and Connor. If they were, that was their problem.
"I should get back to work." Carly downed the last of her coffee, patted the tabletop and stood.
"Thank you for taking the time to talk to me," I said. "I appreciate it."
"Any time," she said with a smile. "I heard a rumour you might be opening a gallery in town. I look forward to it."
I assumed Louisa told her. The mayor seemed to like the idea, but that's all it was for now. An idea. I needed more art and money before I could even consider renting space and fitting it out to accommodate all the work I wanted to put on display. Mine and other's. I wanted to put Aurora Hollow on the art scene map. I wanted the town to be a place where people could make art as well as buy it.
We were surrounded by so much inspiration here, it was perfect. I meant it when I told Josiah the Clarke house would make a perfect retreat and gallery. It really would. Quiet and picturesque. I could sit up there for an entire year and never get tired of drawing and painting the landscape. Not to mention looking around for the perfect sticks and logs to turn into sculptures. That was a habit that wouldn't leave, even if I wanted it to. An artist's mind was difficult to quiet. Impossible to silence. We were always thinking about creating the next piece.
"If I do, I'll invite you to the grand opening," I assured her.
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away." Smiling, she hurried away into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Those were tumultuous. If there was a possibility I was Coral Clarke, then Gavin was my father. If he was, then what did that mean? My mother told me my father left when I was little. Had she lied to me about that? Was she even my mother? If she lied about that, then what else had she lied about? Was anything in my life real?
I felt like my whole existence was tipped upside down. Nothing made sense anymore. If she wasn't my mother, thenwho was she? One thing I knew for sure, she'd never done anything inappropriate to me. Neither had my stepfather. Or anyone else, that I could remember. They were disinterested.
