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“ S he’s my mate!” the guy says, seemingly pissed as if we didn’t already know that bit of information.
“You are an asshole!” I yell, louder than necessary, as the weight of the past week falls off my shoulders like ashes blowing in the wind.
“Darby!” Dayton exclaims in surprise at my outburst.
“No!” I bark out, turning my head to glare at my sister.
“He scared the fuck out of me with his creepy, unsigned , notes. I haven’t been able to leave the house, most days, my room.
Heywood has been babysitting us, in case someone else showed up in person,” I continue to yell, giving the entire dining room a show.
Arek, as Kyle introduced him, stares slack-jawed at me as Declan approaches the table warily.
“Is, ah, everything okay over here?” Declan asks hesitantly.
“No, it is not,” I gripe. Declan’s lips twitch as he fights a smile.
“I told you so,” Declan says to Arek. Arek rolls his eyes in obvious annoyance.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, and then change my mind.
“Forget it, I don’t want to know.” I rise to my feet and throw my napkin on top of my untouched steak.
“I hope everyone has enjoyed the show.” I turn away from the table.
Several patrons quickly divert their gaze, while others openly mock me.
“Where are you going?” Dayton asks.
“Anywhere but here,” I snap, glaring at Arek before storming out of the dining room. I do my best to ignore the looks. Many of them range from amused to shocked. I swear I hear a woman mutter “atta girl” right before the restaurant door closes behind me.
Stomping away from Simmer Down, I take long, slow, deep breaths to calm my anger.
The biting cold December air helps a lot.
Needing to escape somewhere, I wander the streets of the quiet town.
Snow has started falling, and before I realize it, I am standing in front of the gazebo, gazing at the pretty Christmas tree.
Squeezing around the tree, so I don’t knock it over, I pick a spot on one of the benches. Needing to talk to someone, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Fiora.
“Hello,” she says, her tone off.
“Are you okay?” I ask, the dinner drama forgotten momentarily.
“I don’t think so,” Fiora responds.
Fiora
The ringing of my phone prompts me to pause just long enough to see who it is. My shoulders sag in relief when “Darby” flashes across the screen.
“Hello,” I say once the call connects, trying and failing to hide my emotions.
“Are you okay?” Darby questions.
“I don’t think so,” pausing to collect myself, I explain some of the details of today’s monumental occurrences. “I was helping my mom wrap some last-minute gifts.”
“Okay,” she volleys, drawing out the word, making her confusion evident.
“I found an adoption certificate. My parents aren’t my birth parents,” I confess, fighting back tears that start to fall, again.
“Holy shit!” Darby exclaims, stating the obvious. “I thought I was having a tough week.” I don’t think I was supposed to hear that last part. Needing a distraction, I press Darby for details.
“What happened to you?”
Darby launches into the tale of a guy named Arek. She explains about the random deliveries of gifts, accompanied by creepy notes. The story catches me off guard, and I can’t help but start laughing.
“What is so amusing? He freaked me the fuck out,” she argues.
“Weren’t you just saying that you could use a man who knew his way around your hoo-ha?” I question.
“Hoo-ha? What are you five?” Darby snarks
“You know what I mean,” I rebut, having grown up in the middle of Amish country in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, my language doesn’t get crazy out of habit.
“Whatever,” she grumbles.
“Is that invitation to come join you in Padston still open?” I ask, dropping my voice to a whisper.
“Absofuckinlutely!” Darby cheers. “How soon do you think you will get here?”
“Early tomorrow morning, I hope,” I tell her, glazing over at the bags I have packed so far.
“Sounds great,” Darby replies. “I will text you the address, just load it into your GPS. Be careful, we are getting some snow right now. Nothing too heavy, but you never know.”
“I know how to drive in the snow. Pennsylvania, remember?”
“Fuck you,” Darby says with a laugh, no venom in her words.
She ends the call, and I open my bedroom window, dropping bags out onto the lawn. I don’t want my family to know what I’m doing, so I need to be discreet. Hiding in my room all afternoon makes this a little easier to hide, since my family isn’t expecting me to come out and join them.
Humiliation, confusion, anger, shame, frustration - you name it, and you will find my photo next to it in the dictionary. I just hope that Darby can understand that she is my last hope. If she can’t forgive my actions, I have no idea what to do next.