You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Those inspirational words by A. A. Milne scrolled across a decorative sign displayed on the bookcase in Leah’s classroom.
Alas, though. The start of a new school year in August always tempted her to deduce that she was less brave than she believed, weaker than she seemed, and dumber than she thought.
By week two, things had started to settle. By week three, the kids gave her reason to hope. And now, on week four, they’d found their rhythm.
When Dylan was at football practice or out with his friends, she kept an eye on him via the phone app that tracked his position. When he was at home in his room, she spot-checked to make sure he wasn’t dead. During their nightly dinners, she forced him to have a conversation with her and to eat healthy meals that contained vegetables.
Blessedly, the dynamic between herself and Ben hadn’t been as uncomfortable as she’d feared after she’d divulged her position on dating him. His laidback, cheerful manner remained intact.
She continued to threaten to set him up because, earnestly, shewantedto set him up. If she found someone for him, she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about her failure to be to him what he’d hoped she might be. So far, he’d evaded her attempts at matchmaking.
Her search for a current address for Jonathan and Trina Brookside had proved equally unsuccessful. They were annoyingly savvy about protecting their privacy online. She couldn’t shake the notion, though, that the Brooksides’ current address must be ripe for the findingsomewhere. She simply needed to peek under the correct rock.
She’d revisited the two online articles attributed to Jonathan Brookside at Gridwork Communications Corporation. It very well might be, of course, that another man with the same name had written those articles. But the location of Gridwork, just miles from the hospital where she’d been born, made plausible the possibility that the man who’d penned the articles was, indeed, her biological father.
During quiet moments, she mulled over how best to confirm whether the Jonathan of Gridwork washerJonathan. And, if so, how to obtain his address from the company without arousing his suspicion. She’d yet to settle on the optimal strategy.
Sebastian continued to visit her in her dreams. Sebastian, lying beside her in the grass, propped up on an elbow, looking down at her. Sebastian, kissing her knuckles.
Occasionally, she indulged herself by driving by his house. Once, she spotted an empty plastic water bottle snagged in a cluster of bushes out front. Since his house was dim and obviously empty—and because she now comprehended that he valued a tidy lawn—she’d darted from her car and confiscated the bottle.
However, she had not had an opportunity to see him or talk to him for more than a month.
Until, that is, she traveled to Atlanta with Dylan to tour two colleges and visit one particular hospital.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It required an act of God and a generous portion of histrionics, but Leah managed to pry Dylan from his bedroom at their Airbnb and convey the two of them to Beckett Memorial Hospital ahead of their prearranged meeting with Sebastian. An assistant ushered them to Sebastian’s office and informed them that he would join them shortly.
Thus, on the first Monday of September, a day she had off work for Labor Day, Leah was given an unexpected chance to scrutinize Sebastian’s office without him present. The space boasted one large window. Two high-quality leather chairs. An office chair. And a desk, on which four items rested: a lamp, thick white notepad, Montblanc pen, computer.
A yard-wide strip of corkboard ran vertically from the floor to the ceiling of the wall next to his desk. Photos and cards had been pinned to it. Leah stood before the collage, enthralled, reading fast because she was afraid he’d arrive before she had a chance to ingest it all.
The pictures highlighted smiling infant faces. The parents who’d written the cards clearly believed that Sebastian’s efforts had saved the lives of their babies.
As much as she loved math, ultimately, math was theory. Sebastian’s job impacted living, breathing children and families.
Ever since she’d reached out to Sebastian a week and a half ago to schedule this appointment, she’d been looking forward to thisthe way she looked forward to her beloved budget road trips. So far, it did not disappoint. And Sebastian hadn’t even appeared.
Dylan was far less enthused. He’d wanted to spend this holiday sleeping late, shirking homework, working on his drawings, and hanging out with his friends. He was currently slumped in one of the chairs, scrolling sullenly through his apps. His interest in pursuing a career in the field of healthcare hovered at a negative ten.
She’d spent the weekend putting Dylan first. Touring potential schools. Allowing him to choose where they ate. Helping him with his college applications. She’d pitched this hospital visit as something she’d sought out for his sake, but that was an outright lie.
This was the one thing on their itinerary that she’d arranged purely for herself. She wanted another chance to see Sebastian.
It felt divine to be here simply because she wanted to be—
The door swept open. She hadn’t seen Sebastian in weeks, and now, suddenly, here he was. Tall and broad. He wore a white T-shirt with green scrubs and retro-looking black-on-black Adidas. She met his eyes, then watched his vision flick down to her chin before tracing its way back up. As usual, his demeanor communicated observant intensity.
The awareness that existed between them rushed to life.
Distantly she thought,I haven’t finished reading everything on the corkboard. Which means I’ll have to come back one day.That’s the only tenable solution. Also, am I imagining the electricity between us? I can’t be so out of touch with reality that I’m the only onefeeling this, can I?
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Thanks for making time in your schedule for us.”
