Page 21 of Prospect Year

Lola chuckled and glanced toward Mia. “Want to go too?”

She would love to go. She shook her head. She had things to research, and she couldn’t do that on the road.

“Want me to bring some back for you?”

She lifted her shoulders.

“Never had any?”

She shook her head.

“You’re in for a treat,” Lola told her with a wink and walked out.

Chapter 10

Lola walked into his room and hung his cut over the back of the chair. He jerked his tee shirt over his head and swung toward the delicate knock coming from the doorway.

Mia stood there clutching a paper to her chest.

“Come on in. I’ve been washing bikes all morning. Just drying off. What you got there?” He toed off his boots and dropped onto the arm of the tall back chair, one leg still firmly on the floor. “Come sit down.”

Mia held out the paper then eased onto the edge of his bed.

He scanned the information listed. Several addresses. One noted to be his mother’s home address and others were popular hangouts of teens during the time she lived here. The last was the high school’s address with a notation ‘may find her friends in yearbook to interview’.

“You did all this research for me?”

She smiled.

“Going with me?”

“Want me to,” she mouthed slowly, not attempting to sign.

He grinned. “Ever been on a motorcycle?”

So, she hadn’t. He nodded. Did she realize how adorable she was when she bit her lips like that? Maybe it was her eyes. The innocence of willing to learn something new flashing in them. “Opposed to it?”

A smile was all he needed to continue. “Good. I’ll change and get Amber’s helmet, and we’ll hit these places.”

Thirty minutes later, they were stepping from his bike. Lola studied the brick home as he hung his helmet on the handlebar. Nice neighborhood. He glanced toward the yard imagining his mother running and playing there as a child.

Mia tapped his shoulder.

“Yeah. Let’s do this.” He strolled toward the front door and rang the bell waiting for answers.

A pleasant woman who appeared to be in her forties opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so, ma’am. I’m Tim and this is Mia. I’m trying to track down some information about my parents. I know it’s a long shot, but did you know the former owners? Baur? They would have lived here in the early nineties.”

“Oh, that has been a while. I wish I could help but we’ve only lived here for twenty-one years. We purchased it from a family named Barilleaux, who I think only lived here a short time, and I don’t know any history of the home before that. I’m so sorry.”

Lola’s heart dropped. His body suddenly felt the weight of every disappointment he’d ever had. “Thank you, ma’am.”

He turned toward his bike and looked house to house wondering if anyone had lived here for more than the thirty years his mother had left.

“Wait a minute,” the homeowner called out. “You said the nineties. That’s about thirty years. Mr. Jones lives across the street.” She pointed to a blonde brick home behind him. “As far as I know, he’s been here since his kids were young. And I do believe they’re my age. So, he may can help.”

Adrenaline shot through him. “Thank you so much. We’ll talk to him.”