Page 22 of Chasing Home

“I’ll take it. There are worse things to be.”

I search the office for anything that will tell me more about the unknown side of my heritage, but there’s nothing more than the single photo on the shelf.

“Do you still talk to them at all?” I ask, hesitant to hear both a yes and a no. I’m not sure which would be better.

“No. Time and distance have taken its toll on our friendship.”

My stomach falls. Clearly, a no was worse.

Catching onto my disappointment, she’s quick to add, “But I do still have their house number in my contact book. You could give it a try and see if they’ve changed it in the past few years or not. There isn’t anyone better to tell you about your father than the two of them.”

I nod, offering a half-smile in return for her offer. “What about Wanda? Do you think it’s worth trying to track her down?”

“Sweet girl, Wanda’s been gone for over a year on a mission to get to know Lee. She may have grown up here with him, but he was no more a father to her as he was to you.”

“What?” I gape, guilt swelling in my chest.

Eliza grimaces. “Lee Rose has a lot of making up to do, Rory. With everyone. Even family.”

“I thought . . .”

She reaches for my hand again, and I let her take it. “That Wanda had the life you didn’t get a chance to have. I know, honey. How could you have thought anything different with the information you had?”

“Maybe it’s a good thing she isn’t here. I’d have said something stupid and put my foot in my mouth.”

“But you didn’t. And now, you have a potential place to start on your search for answers,” she soothes me.

“I do. You’re right.”

And I don’t plan on wasting it.

8

JOHNNY

I tuck my hair behind my ears and slip into Peakside. It’s hot inside, the type of muggy that makes the air stick to your skin like a tight, uncomfortable knitted shirt from your grandma that you’re too nice to tell her you hate.

A few people lift their fingers in waves from the tables I pass on the way to the bar, and I flash dimpled grins back. Saturday nights are for dimpled grins, laughing until your throat hurts, and empty beer bottles, which means I’m already a third of the way there.

The grumpy, sour-faced owner of the bar listens to me order a couple of beers and then makes quick work of serving them without so much as a hello. She’s gotta be one of the rudest people I’ve ever met, but considering her daughter is Bryce’s evil ex, our entire group of friends has been written off. It’s no skin off my back, and I know the feeling is mutual throughout all of us.

I pay and grab the glass bottles between my fingers before heading toward the table at the back of the bar. Noticing the table isn’t full yet has me whooping in victory, drawing the eyes of Bryce and Darren.

“Am I early enough for you, Brycie?” I ask while folding my body into the booth across the table from the two of them.

“Could have been earlier,” she mutters before lifting her red drink to her lips and taking a sip. “I’d have been spared the alone time with Darren.”

Darren rolls his eyes and lifts his beer to mine as we cheers. “Stop acting as if you don’t love the time with me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’ll stop bringing you ginger beef every Tuesday night, then,” he threatens.

Bryce glares at Darren, her sharp blue eyes brutal. “Don’t you dare.”

“You like ginger beef, right, Johnny?” Darren asks me, pretending he isn’t playing with fire.

“I fuckin’ love it. And I wouldn’t mind a cute date with you either,” I tease.