Page 23 of Outlaw Heartstrings
“How about I get a picture of you two together?” she suggests, motioning between Jagger and me. “Then we could add that to your frame, too.”
My mom claps. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Yeah. Sure thing,” I say.
My thoughts are reeling as the kid and I move to stand in front of a row of potato chips. I kneel down so we can squeeze in together side by side.
But as we hold our pose, waiting for Jagger’s grandmother to snap the picture on her phone, her eyes widen slowly as they bounce between me and the little boy. “Oh my…”
My mom stares at us, too, her jaw dropping wide open. “I…you two look…”
“Identical,” Patty supplies.
As the two women trade a weird look, I stand back up and take the phone from Patty, peering over at the picture she just took.
What? What in the…?
Me and the kid…we have the same dimples. The same smile. The same hair. The same…everything.
When I look at my mom again, she’s as white as a sheet. I open my mouth, not knowing what to say. But right then, Alba rounds the corner.
Her green eyes quickly assess the situation. The two older women, gaping in shock. Jagger standing there, grinning in innocent oblivion. And me? I can’t even imagine the look on my face.
Alba seems to quickly figure out what’s happening. Then, panic sets in.
In a rush, she darts toward Jagger. “Oh my gosh. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She grabs his hand and tries to hustle her nephew and her mother away. “We’ve gotta get home and start dinner before my class tonight.”
“Alba. Hi,” my mother tries to interject.
“Ms. Raines, hi. It’s so wonderful to see you.” She pushes out a smile. “Sorry, we have to run.”
Without thinking, I reach out and grab Alba’s wrist. She turns to face me. When I see the fear in her eyes, I immediately drop her hand.
Still, I lean into her ear, whispering, “You can’t just walk away, Alba. I just had a bombshell dropped on my head. You cannotjust walk away.”
Some nosy person squeezes behind Alba to grab some candy off the shelf, forcing her closer to me.
Tears blur her eyes. She is slowly shaking her head. “Please. Please, let’s not do this here. Not in front of him.” Her chin motions to Jagger.
“Alba, what is going on?” I’m desperate for answers.
Her frantic eyes dart around. “Give me your phone number.”
My brows dip low. “So you can never call me? I don’t think so.”
“Fine.” Alba momentarily squeezes her eyes shut. “Here’s mine.”
She rattles it off, and I call the number immediately. When her purse starts ringing, I’m sure she’s given me the correct number.
“I’m calling you tonight,” I say and my words sound like a warning.
Alba sighs. “I…I know…”
Then she leaves me in the grocery aisle, walking away as a little curly-haired stranger who shares my entire face waves frantically at me.
11
ALBA
