“My bosses are best friends with the owners of the resort. I’m sure we could arrange something.”
“Thought of everything. Didn’t you?” I muttered.
“You know the family motto: The Simmons family don’t come to play.” She grinned again.
"That's my girl," Dad crowed, and I groaned. He was going to be talking about all the money he saved on this vacation until next year's vacation.
“So, Cole, what made you want to go to Puerto Rico anyway?” Aunt Patrice asked.
“I think it has something to do with CJ’s new nanny,” Mom said with a sly grin.
"I know," Kimberly chimed in with an edge to her voice. "Cole never cares about where we go on vacation, then he suddenly has a burning desire to go to the island where LisaBetancourt’sfamily is from.” She put a weird emphasis on Lisa’s last name.
“Betancourt?” Mom asked and looked at Aunt Patrice. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
"Because her mom wrote those cowboy books you love," Kimberly answered.
"The Montenegro Brothers?" my mom asked, and Kimberly nodded.
"Fernando, Ernesto, Jose, and Miguel?" my aunt asked, and her voice went up an octave. Kimberly nodded again. "Oh shit! We love those books."
"Cole, come with me." Mom stood and walked to her study. I followed her, actually relieved the conversation had veered away from Lisa and me. She parked herself in her high-backed leather office chair that Kimmy, RJ, and I used to spend hours taking turns spinning each other in, and rolled herself over to one of her tall bookcases, scanning the shelves. "Ah, here they are."
She pulled four large hardcover books off one of the shelves. They were leaning against a large shiny red vase. My heart thudded when I realized it wasn’t a vase.
“You’re using Crystal’s ashes as a bookend?”
“No.” My mother was clutching the books on her lap and glaring at me. “Crystal is keeping me company in my study until you get your butt over here and do something with her. Although, isn’t it strange that her urn happened to end up next to these books?” There was a mischievous glint in her eye. “My mother would call that a sign.”
“A sign for what?” I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck, knowing exactly what she was talking about. I thought of Lisa rocking CJ and singing Crystal’s favorite song. I wondered if CJ recognized it.
"A sign that you met someone worth running out into the street for, barefoot at three in the morning."
"Mom." I heaved a deep sigh. "It's not like that with Lisa. We both have a lot of sh— stuff going on, and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and CJ. I finally feel like things are falling into place with us. I can't risk messing that up."
She nodded, but her smug expression didn’t change. I kept going.
"And she doesn't want anything more. She said it. So, it's just better to keep things the way they are."
“What do you want?”
"I'm not sure." That was mostly true. I wanted everything—Lisa, CJ, my job—but I didn't know how that was possible. Relationships weren't my forte, but I have never cared about someone the way I cared about Lisa. But I needed her and I couldn't risk losing her.
Besides, I had nothing to offer her. She only saw me first thing in the morning and for a few minutes before I went to bed. I was always exhausted and pissed off. I hated that I missed seeing CJ before she put him to bed, and spending time with him on the weekends wasn't enough. On top of all that, I still haven't sorted out the circumstances around my birth mother's death. Detective Tan's card was still sitting in a drawer collecting dust, and Crystal's ashes were in Mom's office doing the same thing.
Mom eyed me with an expression that told me that she was trying to decide if she should intervene. “Just follow your heart. I know you’ll make the right choice.”
“Is that what you tell your patients?”
"You are not my patient. You're my son, and if you don't have the tools"—she tapped her temple with her index finger—"to figure out the best way to handle this situation, then I didn't do my job." She stood and handed me the stack of books. "And I did my job." She patted my cheeks. "Ask Lisa if she could have her mother sign these for me. I'll pay for any shipping and fees. You should ask Patrice if she wants hers signed too."
Aunt Patrice did want her books signed and was planning to have one of her assistants messenger them to my house later.
The following Wednesday,Lisa brought CJ to the office so we could both get our cheeks swabbed for the DNA tests.
My stomach was doing flips, and I was nervous, but I couldn't tell if it was because I was seeing CJ awake for the first time in a couple days, if I was excited to see Lisa, or if it was the impending adoption hearing.
“Cole,” Susan Charing called my name. I must have been daydreaming.
