Page 20 of Everything We Give

“And why would I assume that?”

The corner of James’s mouth quirks. “Because I would if I were in your shoes.”

Truth, I admit.

I absently scratch my cheek. “Aimee told me she’d forgiven you the last time you saw her. What makes this time different?”

“When we met then, we ...” James stops as though considering his words. He glances at the pavement. “We left a lot unsaid.”

Because his tongue had been down Aimee’s throat.

I want to throttle James, but I can respect the man’s need for closure. Aimee sought the same thing when she went looking for James in Mexico. Still ...

“You kissed mywife.”

I can’t let it go.

James’s face takes on a red tinge. “At the risk of you planting that fist in my face”—he points at my clenched hand—“Aimee and I will always have history. There’s nothing any of us can do to change that. But it’s you she’s in love with. And me ... well, I’ve got someone myself.”

“Natalya?”

James flashes a smile. Aimee’s right. He’s in love.

“But that’s not why I’m here.” James reaches into his pocket. “A woman found me on the beach last month. She gave me this.” He flashes a business card and a chill blasts into my chest, spreading outward. Gooseflesh rises on my arms and the back of my neck.

“I recognized the name from the journals I kept as Carlos. She told me someone I knew was looking for her so I did some checking around. I believe she was talking about you.”

I stare at the card pinched in James’s fingers, not at all surprised to see the name printed in bold, black lettering.LACYSAUNDERSPSYCHICCOUNSELOR.A “specialist” in finding missing persons and the “answers you seek,” as described in neat print underneath her name. Lacy, who I remember telling me her name was Laney, had found me in a ditch when I was nine and had gone missing. She also led Aimee to Mexico to find James, which made me think she could do the same for me and help find my mom.

But Sarah Collins hadn’t gone missing. She’d left.

I take the card with the New Mexico phone number, and I’m hurled back to the roadside where an ethereal angel found my dirty and starved nine-year-old self.

James nods at the card. “Random for her of all people to be at the same beach at the same time, like she knew I’d be there. But that’s impossible, right?”

Impossible? No.

Improbable? Yes.

But who am I to question Fate? She has no problem being a bitch when she wants to. Everyone ends up somewhere and with someone, hopefully under improved circumstances.

James steps off the porch, catching my attention.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Ian.” He gives me a short, two-fingered abbreviated wave, then turns and walks away. I presume back to his rental car and then on to Hawaii.

CHAPTER 6

IAN, AGE NINE

“What about this shirt?” his mom asked.

Ian scrunched his face at the navy-blue polo. Preppy clothes. No way, Jose. He’d been shopping for school clothes with his mom for thirty minutes, twenty-nine minutes longer than he cared to be at the downtown clothing corral. He gazed longingly out the big, square front window onto Main Street. Three kids he recognized from school pedaled by on their bikes. One rode a skateboard. He popped off the curb. Saturdays were meant for pegging girls with popcorn at the matinee or wrestling his best friend, Marshall, as they balanced on slick rocks in the creek to see who drenched whom first.

Spending the day running errands with his mom was not Ian’s idea of a fun Saturday, especially since she’d been shifting a lot.

Last night she flirted with Doug, the cashier at the market. They lived in a small town. Everyone knew everyone, and Doug knew Ian’s mom was married. He also knew, as many of the townsfolk did, that she wasn’t quite right in the head. But that didn’t stop her from asking Doug if he liked her new blouse. Did it look better on her with the bodice buttoned or unbuttoned? Untucked or tucked into the waist of her skirt? Then she demonstrated. Doug wasn’t the only one looking uncomfortable as he awkwardly answered her questions and bagged her groceries. Ian was mortified. His face flamed a hundred degrees. He prayed for Doug to bag faster so they could get out of the store before one of his friends saw that his mom was acting like a high school senior looking for a hookup. The last thing Ian wanted was for her to embarrass him again while they shopped for clothes. He silently pleaded that none of his friends would show up at the store.

“What’s wrong with this shirt?” His mom admired it and Ian flicked the collar. She made a noise of impatience. “It’s the style. All the actors in Hollywood are wearing them.”

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