Page 77

“Grace, stop!” Mom’s voice was so commanding I halted in my tracks. Slowly, I turned to face her, careful to keep my eyes on her alone and nowhere near the man sitting beside her.

“What in the world is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I said, but I’m almost positive my face was an ill shade of gray and my eyes looked sunken and hollow. “I’m fine.”

My mother’s sigh filled the room. “I know the two of us have been going through a hard time lately. But this is getting out of hand. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

My chin quivered. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn’t know what to say, yet even if I did, I wouldn’t—couldn’t—have said it in front of him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said again, though my adamant statement was so weak, I didn’t buy it myself.

“Grace Elizabeth Indigo,” Mom snapped. “Will you just talk to me already?”

Hoping and praying she’d stand up, take my h

and and add, let’s go to your room, just the two of us, I continued to stand there, waiting.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Barry reach out and touch her arm, restraining her. “She’ll talk when she’s ready, sweetheart.”

I gnashed my teeth. Lying hypocrite, I wanted to scream. Turning away, I was fully prepared to flee. But the phone on the wall next to me rang. I have no idea why that made me stop, but I quit moving and stared stupidly at the jangling machine as my mom got up from the table.

My breathing picked up as I feared it would be someone from her work, asking her to come in today…and once more leaving me alone with him.

But after she said, “Hello,” she frowned and asked, “Who’s calling please?” as she turned to narrow her eyes in my direction. “Just a moment.” Holding the phone out to me, she arched a brow. “Ryder Yates?”

Without answering her unspoken demand of who Ryder Yates was, I took the phone from her with shaking fingers and pressed the receiver to my ear.

I stood there a moment without speaking. Then I put my back to the table and quietly said, “Hello?”

On the other end of the line, someone gave a loud, relieved sigh. “Hi.” Ryder’s voice echoed into my ear, making my nerves wrench with excitement and anxiety. “I guess you made it home okay.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I wanted to tell him I’d taken his sweatshirt and would give it back as soon as I saw him again, but saying that in front of my mother would probably elicit too many questions, and I had a feeling I’d already be answering enough as soon as I hung up.

“I looked up Dr. Struder’s number in the phone book. I hope it’s okay I called. You scared me to death when I woke up and you were gone. I had to know you were okay. So…are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” I said, hoping that would answer his question without stirring up more from my listeners. “Everything’s fine.”

He paused before asking, “Can you talk right now?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll go. I know you’re still alive, you made it home okay, and your mom is there, so that’s good enough for now. But I, uh, I also wanted to thank you for—” he cleared his throat “—taking care of me last night. I’m sorry I, you know, cried all over you.”

My shoulders fell as my face filled with sympathy. “I’m glad too,” I said, praying he understood I meant I was glad I’d been the one to be there for him.

“Gotcha. All right then. If you need anything else, let me know. I will help you.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“’Bye,” he whispered back.

I hung up, staring at the phone, wishing I could’ve talked more, told him more, told him everything. When I turned, my mind still on him, I ended up facing the table instead of away from it and found myself staring at my mother and her husband. Both had avidly been listening to my side of the conversation.

“Who’s Ryder Yates?” Mom asked.

I cleared my throat, then shook my head. “He…he goes to Southeast.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Does Todd know Ryder is calling you?”