Page 15

Sierra

“ Y ou have reached your destination,” the voice says, “your destination is on the right.” I park the car by the curb and look at the little white house with dark windows.

Two weeping willow trees protect it from the sun, rain, and everything from outside.

A United States flag flies from the side of the open front door, but a screen door shuts out everything.

“Here we go.” I pep myself up as I lean over to grab the box of donuts and my phone.

I shut my car door, walking around the car and stepping onto the sidewalk, looking right and left as I make my way up the pathway to the door.

Stepping up one step, I see there are two rocking chairs out here, moving back and forth softly in the wind.

I look for a doorbell when I finally get to the screen door.

Seeing none, I lift my hand and knock softly on the wooden side.

My heart pounds fast and hard in my chest as I step back and nervously wait for him to come to the door.

“I’m coming,” the voice snaps as I hear footsteps approaching me. I see him fill the doorway. He semi-glares at me, then his eyes go from me to the box of donuts in my hands, and his look softens just a touch. “Hmm,” he says, “you listened.”

I don’t mean to but with all the nervousness I have in me, I giggle a little bit.

“Of course,” I respond as he pushes open the screen door so I have to take an extra step back.

“I got one of everything,” I tell him, extending the box to him, but I see he is holding a cane with one hand and the door with the other. “I’ll carry it in for you.”

“Don’t need you to do no such thing,” he grumbles, lifting his arm with the cane and reaching for the box. “Come in.” He turns, and I must step in quickly before the screen door slams shut.

I follow him past the living room with one brown couch that seats three people.

A dinner tray with remotes on it is right next to a brown La-Z-Boy.

There are pictures of him in uniform on the wall from many years ago.

Then another one of him in the same uniform but with a woman wearing a wedding dress beside him.

Then the pictures go from black-and-white to color.

Pictures of him with what must be his children and then grandchildren.

I step into the small kitchen and see an L-shaped counter with a fridge and stove tucked into it and a sink facing the window in the room.

A small round table with four chairs is pushed almost to the wall, facing the counter.

He pulls out a chair before hanging the cane on the table and then plopping the box down right next to a glass that looks like iced tea.

“You want something to drink?” He looks over at me, and I shake my head, not sure if I should join him and sit at the table or just stay standing.

He sits down at the table and then looks at me.

“You going to stand there all day looking at me, or are you going to sit down?”

I roll my lips, trying not to laugh at him as I pull out the chair closest to me before sitting down. “Thank you for meeting with me, Mr.—” I start, not sure what to call him because I don’t know his fucking name.

“Bruce.” He opens the box of donuts and looks at all of them before choosing one, taking a bite and then reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth. “So you have questions, do you? What questions do you have?”

I rub my hand down the front of my pants, wiping the clamminess off. “Yes, just a couple.”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger. So get to it.” He looks at me as he takes another bite of the donut.

“In the paper, it said that you found me, but you didn’t know how long I had been out there.” He nods.

“We were sitting in the crew mess. A couple of the guys were playing cards. A couple were sitting around shooting the shit. It was a slow night.” He looks down at the donut.

“Then I heard it…” His voice trails off.

“The sound of a baby crying. It was after midnight, so we all looked at each other, not sure we heard what we heard until it got louder.” He looks over at me, and I can see he remembers it.

“We all got up and walked toward the door. Back then, the station was smaller.” He turns his eyes now as he picks up his tea.

“I got to the box first, and when I looked inside, I saw you were there with just a blanket on.” I can’t help the lone tear.

“We were pretty much in shock for a second, and then we sprang into action.”

“What did you do?”

“I got the box inside,” he goes on. “A couple of the guys went running around the station to see if anyone was lurking. Then we had a couple of guys drive up and down streets to see if they saw anyone. But there was no one.” He taps the table with his finger.

“It’s like you were dropped off by angels.

You were cold.” He shakes his head. “We got you in a warm blanket as we called the sheriff, and then they took you away.”

“Was there any talk about who my parents could be?” I sit here waiting, holding my breath.

“Not one person came to mind. Everyone we thought it could be was still pregnant or with their newborn.” He stops when the front door slams shut and looks down the hallway at a woman coming in, holding a basket in her hand.

Her white hair is pulled back, and only when she gets closer do I see she’s in a long skirt with a sweater, her sleeves pushed up.

“Bruce,” she says his name, then looks at me and back at him.

“Who do we have here?” He turns to her, but she doesn’t give him a chance to say anything because she gasps.

“Are those donuts?” She walks over to the table, and then looks at him with a glare and then looks at me. “Did he tell you to bring these?”

“No,” I lie for him, and I’m only doing it because he took the time to talk to me. “I came to ask him a couple of questions, and I didn’t feel right coming empty-handed.”

“I don’t believe you,” she retorts to me, putting the basket on the table and then closing up the box of donuts. “Here”—she holds out the box—"you take these home.” I lift my hand and take the box from her.

“Woman,” Bruce finally snaps, “those are my donuts. She brought them to me as a gift, and it’s rude to give gifts back."

She turns to him. “You better watch it, mister,” she hisses. “You have high blood pressure, and you know that sugary stuff isn’t good for you. I’m not going to sit around watching you kill yourself.”

“She’s always been a little dramatic.” He picks up his tea. “She gets more dramatic as she ages.”

“I can leave,” she bites out, and he ignores her. “Is that what you want?”

“Heloise,” he says her name, looking at her and then at me, “meet Sierra.” She looks over at me. “She’s the Jane Doe we found in a cardboard box.”

“Oh my,” she replies, sitting in the chair beside her, putting her hand on her chest. “I thought you were his long-lost granddaughter.”

I can’t help but laugh, literally. “Woman, what are you talking about? We’ve been together since we were sixteen.”

“You went away for the Navy,” she snips back. “How was I to know you didn’t go philandering around?”

“I’m not his long-lost granddaughter,” I confirm to her. “I just found out that I was adopted.” I tell her the story, and she has to wipe away the tears. “So now I’m going to try to find my birth parents.”

“Honey,” she advises softly, “maybe that isn’t the smartest idea.”

“Leave her be,” Bruce interjects. “She does what she needs to.”

“Hush yourself”—Heloise slaps his arm—“and focus on finishing that donut before I take it away from you,” she warns him. “You do what you need to do, and we will help you in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, and by the time I look around, the three of us are having dinner together.

Bruce sneaks another donut in, and when it’s almost seven, I walk out of the house with a smile on my face and the box of donuts tucked under my arm.

Getting into the car, I turn and see the two of them standing there waiting for me to drive away.

I wave at them as I pull away from the curb and head toward Lilah’s house.

I don’t call before I get there, grabbing the box and heading toward the front door.

I walk up the steps and press the doorbell, wondering if maybe I should have had this talk with her before.

I regret this decision when the door opens, and I see her face light up when she sees me.

“Hey.” She moves away from blocking the door to give me a chance to come in.

“This is a surprise.” I step in. “I called you this afternoon.”

“I know,” I say of my missed call when I was talking to Bruce and Heloise, “I was with Bruce.”

She looks at me with confusion as I fill her in on who Bruce is. “That’s incredible,” she gasps. “Check that off the list.”

“I know, but there is a reason I came here.” I look around. “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”

“I’m home all alone,” she states, walking to the living room and sitting on the couch. “Emmett and Lucy went for a nighttime ride.” She grabs the throw blanket and puts it on herself as she turns off the television. “So we are as alone as we can be.”

I sit at the other end of the couch and turn to her. “Okay, I have to tell you something,” I finally say, “and you are going to hate me, and it might ruin our whole friendship.” I can’t stop my mouth from talking.

“Ruin our friendship?” she asks and sits up, her face filling with a look of fear.

The pit of my stomach burns so hard, and I think I’m going to throw up.

“There isn’t an easy way to say this.” I avoid looking at her as I close my eyes and take a deep breath for courage.

“So I’m just going to say it.” I look at her.

“I kissed Caleb,” I admit it, and then see her eyes go big.

“I know, I know, it was wrong, and I swear it was only one time. But I crossed a line, and I’m so sorry. ”

“You kissed Caleb?” she asks, and I nod, waiting for her to tell me I’m the shittiest friend to ever live. “Like Caleb Walker?”

“One, how many Calebs have you dated?” I almost hiss out. “Yes, the one you dated.”

“Dated is a stretch,” she retorts. “I kissed him twice, and it’s only because the first time was so bad I thought it was all in my head.” I literally gawk at her. “News flash. It was gross. Both times.” She holds up two fingers. “Gross,” she whispers out the word.

“Caleb?” I now say his name because there is no way she kissed the same guy I kissed, definitely not the same guy she kissed.

“Oh my God, is that why you look like you stole someone’s kitten and are keeping it hidden in your bedroom?”

“Lilah, you dated him, which means he’s off-limits.” My voice rises.

“Again, dated is a stretch. We went out maybe three times and then decided we were better off as friends. I felt like I was kissing my brother when I kissed him, it was just gross.”

“I’m sorry, we must have been kissing a different person because”—I shake my head—“he’s hands down the best fucking kisser I’ve ever kissed in my whole life.”

She gasps, “Wait a second, you like him.” She points at me, and I close my eyes. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she chants over and over again, her voice filled with glee and laughter, “you fucking like him.”

“I don’t know,” I lie to her and then roll my eyes. “I like him a little bit. He’s hot.” She looks over to the side and fake vomits. “That’s how I feel about Emmett, so I think it’s normal.”

“Emmett is hot,” she defends, and now I grimace and shake my head.

“Agree to disagree,” I counter. “Can you forgive me?”

“You didn’t even do anything,” she says. The front door opens, and then it slams back shut. We hear the sound of boots clonking on the floor. Lucy comes into the room first. “Shower.” Lilah points at her bedroom. “You can say hello after.”

“Ugh, fine.” She walks past the couch, waving.

“Oh, hey,” Emmett greets, walking into the room and going straight to Lilah, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss her lips before heading to the fridge. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” He pulls it open and takes out a beer.

“She made out with Caleb,” Lilah announces, snickering, and I gasp at her.

“I heard”—my head whips around to him—“last night at the bar.”

“Who told you?” I ask, shocked. Then I’m really fucking happy I decided to come here today and tell her instead of her finding out from Emmett.

“Someone saw you two in the parking lot,” he tells me, and I close my eyes.

“She came to ask me if it’s okay if she dates him.” Lilah fills him in.

“I did not.” I shake my head, trying not to let him know that I might have, maybe, perhaps tried to see if she was bothered by it.

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes going to Lilah. “Why would you care?” His eyebrows go up.

“I don’t, but she thought I would.”

“There is a code,” I tell Emmett, who rolls his eyes. “You know, bros before hos, and hos before bros.” He just stares at me. “Since they dated, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, that’s right, they dated.” He cocks his hip.

“Don’t you start with me, Emmett.” Lilah gets up and puts her hand on her hip.

“You hated me.”

“Never hated you.” I get up when he says that as the two of them go into a standoff.

“I’m going to get going.” I point over my shoulder.

“Go home and open a nice bottle of wine and soak in my tub.” I walk over to her.

“Thank you for being the best friend a girl could ask for.” I hug her.

“Also, do you have a bottle of wine I could borrow?” Emmett is the one who laughs, and I look over my shoulder at him.

“She’s going to be another pain in my…” he mumbles as he walks over to the cabinet and takes out two bottles and brings them to me. “Here.” He hands me both. “You owe me two bottles.”

“She owes us nothing,” Lilah retorts. “Now, get out of here and go call Caleb.”

“I’m not calling him,” I scoff at her as I walk out of the house and head to my car. Today was not a bad day, I think to myself as I start my car. Not a bad day at all.