Page 76 of Tangled Up In You
“I still don’t know what to say,” she admitted, leaning back against the passenger door. “Do I just walk up to his door and say, ‘Hi, are you by chance missing a daughter’?”
“It’s not the worst idea.” Edward smiled and then bent in, giving her a long, lingering kiss. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He rounded the front of the car, giving Max an encouraging little pat on the hood as he passed. The second Edward turned the key in the ignition, Max roared to life.
Last Tuesday felt like a lifetime ago, but it had been only seven days. Ren remembered waiting at the curb for Fitz to show up, feeling nervous and guilty and queasy from the enormous lie she was about to tell her parents. She imagined having the entire trip to think about what she would do on Christopher Koning’s doorstep, what she would say. She thought she’d have time to mentally and emotionally prepare to hear that there was no way she was his daughter, or—even more world rocking—to hear that she was.
But instead of focusing on finding her father, the trip had become less about what she had ahead and more about what was right in front of her: Edward Fitzsimmons. What started so rocky and contentious had melted into comfort and passion and honesty. It was overwhelming, the way her heart was discovering love at the same time her mind was contemplating the possibility that her entire life had been built on a lie.
“I’m so glad you drove me down,” she told him. “I’d be so nervous alone.”
He glanced away from the road, smiling. “Me too. I’d be useless today if I was up there and you were down here without a phone.”
A phone. It hadn’t even occurred to her that if they were separated for any reason, she’d have no way of getting in touch with him. They’d ditched the burner from the Screaming Eagle bounty; Fitz explained it could have been used for all kinds of illegal things, so it now lived in a dumpster in Rapid City. The realization that Ren would probably need to buy one made a second bolt of awareness land, and she took a minute to piece the words together, staring out at the road ahead of them. “Would it hurt your feelings if I wanted to go up to his house by myself?”
“Of course it wouldn’t. You mean you want me to wait nearby, right?”
She considered this. As comfortable as she was with Edward, and as much as she knew she’d want to tell him everything about what happened, she wasn’t sure she wanted him there to witness it if she was turned away. Everything—even this—was too new. She knew she’d want to deal with it on her own first, even if she needed him nearby.
“I think it’d be better if you went and checked us into the hotel, and I called you when I was ready for you to come get me.”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “You don’t have a phone, Sunshine.”
“I know, but you can give me your number. Even if he’s not my dad, he’d let me use his phone, don’t you think?”
“Let’s just go grab you a burner and come back.”
She shook her head. “I’m too nervous. I want to do this now. I’m sure I can use his phone.”
“I’d be more comfortable if you took mine.” He reached for the console and handed it to her before wrapping his hand around hers, squeezing. “I’ll call this line from the hotel and leave the number so you can call me when you’re ready.”
Ren was pretty sure she’d never be ready, but it didn’t matter, because they pulled up at the curb of the tree-lined street in Atlanta and it was right there, 1079 Birchwood Terrace. The house was blue, with white trim and a sunny yellow front door. The neighborhood was beautiful, with vibrant greenery and seductive, heavy buds bursting on every branch. It looked nothing like she’d been imagining from her years of reading Toni Morrison and Flannery O’Connor. But this was modern-day suburban Atlanta: Yards rolled down from beautiful homes to the sidewalks; flower beds were immaculate, bordering tidy verdant lawns. Trees lined the sidewalks, throwing soft shade over rooftops, their branch arms reaching for those of their cousins across the asphalt.
She could tell this was a neighborhood full of homes—not simply houses—where families met at a table at six sharp for dinner, where daughters learned to play catch with their dads and sons learned to ride bikes with a mom chasing after them, struggling to keep a steadying hand on the seat. It was so different from her own upbringing that she felt momentarily split down the middle, facing this alternative reality. She imagined playing in a yard like this, going to a real school, and being driven around in a shiny sedan instead of a rusty old pickup. She didn’t want to change how or where she was raised, but she hadn’t realized until she’d left how lonely she’d always been. Her only friends had been pigs and chickens, cats and cows.
Edward pulled a half a block farther down the street and parked at the curb. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Ren gazed out the window, staring behind them. “I’m sure.”
“Look at me, Ren.”
She turned, and he leaned over, kissing her once. “I’ll call as soon as I’m at the hotel with the phone number and our room number so they can connect you. I’ll have them text it, too, just in case.” He reached over, silencing the ringer. “It won’t ring—I don’t want it to distract you—but it’ll vibrate when the voicemail is there. Okay? You know the passcode and how to get to my voicemail? My texts?” She nodded numbly, and he made her repeat the plan back to him.
“You’ll leave a message with the phone number for me to call,” she said, showing him that she knew where to access the voicemail on his phone. “You’ll tell me our room number so I can have them connect me.”
“Call me either way,” he said. “If you stay for dinner, call me. If you need a ride immediately, call me. Actually, as soon as you have a sense of how it’s going, call me. Just keep me updated. Please?”
“I will. Thank you.” She reached over the console, cupping his cheek, then took a deep breath before climbing out.
Edward called out to her. “Ren!”
She bent down, peeking back into the car to find him leaning across the console, staring up at her. “I…” His smile straightened, eyes searching hers. “I wanted to tell you…”
“Tell me what?” she asked.
Finally, he grinned, making a fist of solidarity. “You got this.”