Page 131
“If you think that will help Mariana get over any reservations she might have, then we’ll stay with them. As for face-smushing kisses—I guess I can share with Stella for a few days. But I’d like to claim a small percentage of lip action if you can squeeze it in.”
Whatever discomfort he might experience this weekend was worth the look on his wife’s face right now.
And who knows, maybe once she was within a stone’s throw of their hometown, she might want to take a closer look at her past.
Emma had remembered the story he’d told her about Phil’s cat. Maybe if she went back home, relaxed and without fear in the company of her husband-slash-bodyguard, she might remember more.
She popped out of her seat to plant a rushed kiss on his cheek. “I’ll call them right now to let them know we’re coming!”
He kept the smile on his face until she was out of sight. Then he pulled out his phone to cancel the booking he’d made for the luxury two-story cabin by the river, the one that reminded him of the one his family used to own.
His father had sold that cabin years ago.
At the time he hadn’t been sorry to see it go. Remembering his time with Emma in that place had been painful. So he’d celebrated the sale with a drink, telling himself it was for the best. Moving on was the healthy thing to do.
Garrett regretted letting it go now. According to his aunt that cabin had been his mother’s favorite place in the entire state. Her father had built it.
Had his father bothered to get Phil’s permission to sell it? Had she profited from the sale?
He had no idea. Garrett really should have asked these questions earlier. Berating himself, he shot another text to his PI.
It seemed Emma wasn’t the one who needed to reevaluate things in their hometown.
Chapter Fifty-Three
GARRETT
Emma’s mother’s house was the tiniest two-story structure he had ever seen. It stood in the middle of a crowded block with homemade concrete sidewalks.
It was an odd layout for a residential area. So many homes set so closely together next to the roads while the woods stretched out behind them as if they were huddling together for protection against the elements.
Or more like the people who built these houses wanted to save some cash when they tapped into the city water lines. That was the only explanation for putting two streets worth of houses into one.
He spun in a circle, taking in the whole neighborhood. It probably hadn’t looked so bad when they were new, but now, fifty years on, the clear signs of economic depression made for a grim little enclave.
The white wood paneling of each home was overdue for a paint job. Compared to the neighbor’s houses, the Mendez home was in great shape, with a green patch of grass and no clutter in sight.
No HOA around here, he thought, noting the broken-down Honda on the dead lawn a few houses down. But he smiled at Emma when she turned to check his reaction, all the while making a mental note to check the crime stats for this neighborhood.
His wife would be devastated if something happened to her mother and little sister. Fortunately, she was too excited to notice his less-than-enthusiastic reaction to their surroundings.
“Why are we going through the side door?” he asked as she skirted the neat square of grass in front of the house to walk up the cracked concrete driveway.
“It’s the kitchen,” she said, waving him on impatiently. Emma fairly skipped up the steps, she was so excited.
He followed more sedately, determined to keep an open mind. He had to make a good first impression.
Sunlight streamed through a two-panel slider window on the left, illuminating a dated but scrupulously clean kitchen in white and yellow tile. But the crowded kitchen counters and cracked linoleum didn’t detract from its overall cheerfulness.
The kitchen table was pine, with two chairs on one end and a cushioned bench on the other. A dark-haired woman sat on one of the chairs, a pile of papers in front of her.
Emma threw her arms out. “Mom.”
Mariana Mendez turned around. She was a touch gray now at the temples and she might have gained a couple of pounds, but other than that she hadn’t aged a day from their school days.
When she saw Emma, the tight expression on her face eased, the line between her brows disappearing. She jumped up to hug her oldest daughter, giving Garrett an unobstructed view of the documents on the table.
It was a pile of bills.
Whatever discomfort he might experience this weekend was worth the look on his wife’s face right now.
And who knows, maybe once she was within a stone’s throw of their hometown, she might want to take a closer look at her past.
Emma had remembered the story he’d told her about Phil’s cat. Maybe if she went back home, relaxed and without fear in the company of her husband-slash-bodyguard, she might remember more.
She popped out of her seat to plant a rushed kiss on his cheek. “I’ll call them right now to let them know we’re coming!”
He kept the smile on his face until she was out of sight. Then he pulled out his phone to cancel the booking he’d made for the luxury two-story cabin by the river, the one that reminded him of the one his family used to own.
His father had sold that cabin years ago.
At the time he hadn’t been sorry to see it go. Remembering his time with Emma in that place had been painful. So he’d celebrated the sale with a drink, telling himself it was for the best. Moving on was the healthy thing to do.
Garrett regretted letting it go now. According to his aunt that cabin had been his mother’s favorite place in the entire state. Her father had built it.
Had his father bothered to get Phil’s permission to sell it? Had she profited from the sale?
He had no idea. Garrett really should have asked these questions earlier. Berating himself, he shot another text to his PI.
It seemed Emma wasn’t the one who needed to reevaluate things in their hometown.
Chapter Fifty-Three
GARRETT
Emma’s mother’s house was the tiniest two-story structure he had ever seen. It stood in the middle of a crowded block with homemade concrete sidewalks.
It was an odd layout for a residential area. So many homes set so closely together next to the roads while the woods stretched out behind them as if they were huddling together for protection against the elements.
Or more like the people who built these houses wanted to save some cash when they tapped into the city water lines. That was the only explanation for putting two streets worth of houses into one.
He spun in a circle, taking in the whole neighborhood. It probably hadn’t looked so bad when they were new, but now, fifty years on, the clear signs of economic depression made for a grim little enclave.
The white wood paneling of each home was overdue for a paint job. Compared to the neighbor’s houses, the Mendez home was in great shape, with a green patch of grass and no clutter in sight.
No HOA around here, he thought, noting the broken-down Honda on the dead lawn a few houses down. But he smiled at Emma when she turned to check his reaction, all the while making a mental note to check the crime stats for this neighborhood.
His wife would be devastated if something happened to her mother and little sister. Fortunately, she was too excited to notice his less-than-enthusiastic reaction to their surroundings.
“Why are we going through the side door?” he asked as she skirted the neat square of grass in front of the house to walk up the cracked concrete driveway.
“It’s the kitchen,” she said, waving him on impatiently. Emma fairly skipped up the steps, she was so excited.
He followed more sedately, determined to keep an open mind. He had to make a good first impression.
Sunlight streamed through a two-panel slider window on the left, illuminating a dated but scrupulously clean kitchen in white and yellow tile. But the crowded kitchen counters and cracked linoleum didn’t detract from its overall cheerfulness.
The kitchen table was pine, with two chairs on one end and a cushioned bench on the other. A dark-haired woman sat on one of the chairs, a pile of papers in front of her.
Emma threw her arms out. “Mom.”
Mariana Mendez turned around. She was a touch gray now at the temples and she might have gained a couple of pounds, but other than that she hadn’t aged a day from their school days.
When she saw Emma, the tight expression on her face eased, the line between her brows disappearing. She jumped up to hug her oldest daughter, giving Garrett an unobstructed view of the documents on the table.
It was a pile of bills.
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