Page 8 of Then Came Love
“Mm. This is delicious.” She took another sip. “Is that chocolate and coconut? Caramel? Baileys? What am I tasting?”
He remained silent as they headed down the sidewalk and into the park.
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but some things are sweeter when left up to the imagination.” They followed the path until they came to a bench and sat down to eat their croissants, which were covered in powdered sugar.
He handed Jordan a napkin, and she spread it over her lap at the same time he spread one over his. “Finally, someone who won’t roll their eyes at me.”
“I roll my eyes plenty at you.” She broke off a piece of the croissant and popped it into her mouth. “But my dad taught me the value of taking care of nice things when I was young.”
“I’d like to hear about your family and where you grew up. Unless you’d rather not share.”
Her brows knitted. “I don’t talk about them often, but this is a good memory. I grew up in Prairie View, and when I was little, I loved fancy dresses. The fancier the better, and I’d wear them everywhere, even to the park.”
“A true fashionista.”
“That’s what my dad called me. His little fashionista. He would troll eBay looking for fancy dresses, and the two of us would spend hours hunting down yard sales on the weekends. I loved doing it with him.” She ate as she spoke, her expression thoughtful.
“I think I would have liked your father.”
Her eyes lit up. “You couldn’t help but love him. He was a great dad, and he didn’t mind that I wore those dresses out to play, because he believed kids should be kids. But he had rules. It was my responsibility to take care of them. He taught me tricks, like covering my lap when I ate, and—don’t laugh—tucking a napkin into my collar to protect the front of my dresses when I was eating something especially messy, like ice cream. I must have looked ridiculous to other kids, but the only thing I cared about was that my dad, a rough and tough construction worker, had found me pretty things to wear.”
“I don’t think there’s anything quite like the relationships we have with our folks.”
“I agree. I loved him so much, and he adored us.” Her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t slow down. “He used to do things for my mom that didn’t mean much to me back then, but now I see how special they were. Like after it snowed, he’d shovel the driveway and clean off her car before he left for work in the mornings, and he’d call her every day at four o’clock to see if she needed him to bring home anything for dinner or for us. My sister and I used to run to answer the call, and my mom would light up when she spoke to him.”
Jax felt her missing them like a thickness in the air. “What was his name?”
“Craig.”
“And your mom? What was her name? What was she like?”
“Her name was Sara, and I look just like her. She was soft spoken, but she was like a bright light, always telling us that we could do or be anything. She was hope personified, and she called us her little doves, because doves are a symbol of hope. She never yelled. If we did something bad, she’d press her lips together and shake her head, like this.” She pressed her lips into a hard line, and her brow furrowed as she shook her head. “I can still hear her saying, ‘Please don’t do that.’”
“Did you listen?”
Jordan shrugged, smiling. “Probably sometimes. She’s the reason I love fashion. She used to pore through fashion magazines. She loved looking at them and sketching designs, but wearing fancy clothes wasn’t her thing. She liked pretty clothes, but not fancy. But she was really talented. I have all of her old sketchbooks.”
Jax had so many questions, but he loved her enthusiasm, and he didn’t want to interrupt her.
“She used to sing us to sleep, too.”
“Did she sing a special song?”
“Yes. ‘My Girl’ by the Temptations, and she had the prettiest voice. My dad called her his angel. They were high school sweethearts, born on the same day, believe it or not.”
Sadness rose in her eyes, and he knew she was thinking that they’d also died on the same day. “What about your sister? What was she like?”
“Casey,” she said wistfully. “She’s five years younger than me, with golden-brown hair that was always tousled and a little frizzy. We’re total opposites. She was always tough, and I’m more of a girly girl. She hated dresses as much as I loved them, but she liked to pick out pretty outfits for me to wear. She wanted to be just like our dad, and she wore sweats or leggings, T-shirts and flannels, and work boots. My dad loved that about her. She was always getting dirty, running through puddles or digging in the dirt. I’d be twirling in the grass in my princess dress, and she’d be making a mud castle.” Her expression softened. “She’s still out there. I can feel it.”
Jax’s heart ached for her. He set his food and drink aside and moved closer, putting his arm around her. “I’m sure your parents are watching over you, too.”
“I know they are, but it’s more than that. I want to tell you something, but I’ve learned that some things can make people look at you differently, and I don’t want that to happen.”
“Your secrets are safe with me, whatever they are.”
“I believe you.” She seemed to think about that for a second. “Casey wasn’t killed in the accident. She’s missing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She was in the car with my parents when they were killed. They were on their way to pick me up from camp, driving through back roads in West Virginia. It was raining, and I don’t know why, but the car veered off the road and hit a tree. When the rescuers found them, my parents were dead and my sister was gone. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”
Holy hell.“They must have searched for her.”
“They did, with dogs and everything. But they never found a trace.”
“Jesus.”It made him sick to think about anything happening to a child, but for Jordan to lose her entire family in such a devastating way was almost too much to take. “She was four?”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s awful. How did you get through that?”
“I couldn’t wrap my head around it. When my aunt and uncle picked me up from camp with the police, they told me what had happened, and I didn’t believe them.”
“Of course not. It’s too much for a child to fathom.”
