Page 45 of The Secret
“Where was your mom?” Con paused and bit his lip. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s really painful or…”
I played with the lid of my coffee cup and considered that for a second. I never talked about this shit. But that was mostly because no one ever asked.
“She lives in Schenectady. Manages a hotel there. My dad left when my mom was pregnant with my youngest brother, and there was no way she could handle all four of us on her own, so she sent us to Baxter. She used to send home money every month.” Not enough. “She’s still there, but she’s more like a distant cousin than a mom. We exchange cards at Christmas.” I shrugged again. “What can I tell you?”
Con stared at me like I had three heads. “I cannot imagine having a mother who wasn’t all up in your business. Likeallup in your business.”
I laughed. “Yeah, Freedom Bloom is no Angela Ross, that’s for damn sure.”
“Your mother's name isFreedom?”
“God, the weirdest things shock you. Yes. What sort of name do you expect from a woman named MoonFlower? Mary Sue?”
“Wait, her name was MoonFlowerBloom?”
I snorted. “She picked theBloomto go with the MoonFlower, Con. She loved flowers, so she changed her name.” Then I added in a sourer tone, “The rest of us just got stuck with it.”
“Oh my God. So the first day we met, when I asked you—”
“If I’d picked my name to go with my profession or my profession to go with my name? Yeah, hit a little close to home.”
Con kept staring at me, so I shoved his shoulder.
“Quit it.”
“Sorry. It’s just… if you told me you came from Mars, I’d have less trouble believing it. It’s fascinating. You’re… fascinating.” He looked away, blushing.
“If I had a nickel for every guy who said that,” I teased.
Con looked at me speculatively.
“I’d have exactly one nickel. Drink your coffee.” I nodded at the cup sitting on the blanket.
It was oddly liberating, telling Constantine all this. Strangelygood. And I hoped it would inspire him to tell me his own story when he was ready. But for now, I leaned back against the railing and let the silence of the place, broken only by bird calls, wrap us both up.
“Sounds a little like the beach, doesn’t it?” Con said a few minutes later. “With your eyes closed, the wind in the grass kinda sounds like waves.”
“Uh huh.” I opened my eyes to find Con with his head resting against the wooden railing, all calm and comfortable. He looked like he was freakin’ meditating, glowing like a Greek god in the pink-orange sunrise.
Desperate anger, to consuming lust, to sleepy satiation, to total contentment. I’d never met anyone who could shift as quickly as Constantine did, once he finally let himself feel things.
“You know, I’ve never been to the ocean,” he volunteered a few minutes later. “But I’ve been to Lake Ontario a bunch. When I was a kid, my dad used to take us in the spring sometimes, before the busy season. Road trip all the way to Charlotte just to get frozen custard at the pier.”
“That’s a nice memory.”
He nodded. “Always wanted to see the ocean though.”
“So go. It’s only six hours away.”
Con shrugged and sipped at his coffee. “Opportunity never presented itself.”
“Opportunity?” I laughed. “It’s an ocean. You don't need an invitation.”
“Mmm. This is good,” he interrupted, taking another sip of his drink. “Perfectly light and sweet. Much likemyself.” He pressed a hand to his chest and grinned. “Thanks for remembering.”
I shook my head. I’d never met anyone who avoided talking about shit with the same skill Con did either.
I reached for the bag and removed a muffin. “One of these days I’m going to get a truth out of you,” I warned him. “It’s going to be epic, and I’ll never let you live it down.”
