“My daughter doesn’t mince words,” Trent said.
Scottie’s box lunch arrived but she didn’t reach for it. “I hope you didn’t come all the way to Hearts Bend just to meet me.” Retrieving her backpack once again, she hooked it over her shoulders with ease.
“I’m afraid I did. At the behest of the queen.”
“You’re her olive branch?”
“She sends her greetings.” Should he relay any of her private musings? How the woman, not the queen, felt vulnerable to rejection? How she knew she’d done her daughter a disservice. John stood to meet his sister’s kind but hard gaze. “My mother, our mother, wears a crown as well as any queen. She’s strong and stable, wise, just, and kind. She listens. She tries all sides. But when the crown comes off, she’s just a wife and a mum, a woman with flaws and failings, struggles. For what it’s worth, Scottie, she hurts over this situation as much as you, probably more. Because she knew you, carried you in her arms, kissed your wee forehead and handed you over to your father knowing she could never look back.”
He stopped, restraining any farther emotional soliloquy. Scottie’s eyes glistened and he felt a bit of a teary burn himself.
“Does it matter how I feel? Everything seems to be about her and her position as queen.”
“I understand, believe me. It’s complicated. But she’s reaching out to—”
“Reaching out? Why now? Our story broke over a year ago and I’ve heard very little from your family. What’s so important that I have to accept her olive branch?”
“That I cannot tell you, but here we are. To be fair, after the news broke, she did, I believe, send an inquiry?”
“Her secretary wrote to Dad. That’s not a mother reaching out to the daughter she abandoned.” Scottie adjusted the backpack, holding onto the strap with her hands. “It’s too late. I’m sorry. I’m thirty-five, not a child.”
“It’s too late for your childhood but not for the rest of your life, Scottie.” Trent’s fatherly wisdom turned her tears to ire.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten your part in this.”
“Scottie, my hands were tied. Come on, let it go. Or try to understand.”
“You could’ve at least told me she was alive. Know what? Forget it. I’m not going to rehash this. John, enjoy your time in Hearts Bend.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you. Give my regards to your mom, brother, dad, aunts, cousins, whoever.”
“And if I’d told you, Scottie, then what?” Trent wove his question in between her flippant salutation. “You’d have started asking to meet her. Wondering where she lived, what she did with her life, why she left.”
But Scottie was already at the door. With the soft click, John was alone with Trent.
“She’s bullheaded.”
“Like mother like daughter.”
“She and I are having dinner tonight. Join us. She’ll be more affable after a bath, a bit of food, and a nap.”
“Are you sure?” Gemma came to mind. If he agreed to dinner, he’d like an ally at the table. But was she an ally? “She seems resolved to her position.”
“I’ll text you the address.” Trent retrieved his phone from his desk. “Bring a guest if you’d like. Do you know anyone in town besides Buck and JoJo?”
“I’ve made a recent acquaintance, yes.”
“The girl from the Fourth of July three-legged race? Alena showed me a plethora of social media posts when I came in on Monday.”
Plethora? Understatement of the year.
“Gemma Stone. Do you know her?” John’s phone pinged with a text from Trent. He tapped the screen to find a map to the man’s home.
“Not personally. I knowofher. After Scottie graduated from Rock Mill High, Gemma became the school’s new darling, being voted prom and homecoming queen. You know, those crazy All-American traditions we both love and loathe. I’m sure you have similar ones in Lauchtenland. Anyway, I believe she even won a local beauty contest and then bugged out to Hollywood. I didn’t know she was back in town.”
So it was Trent O’Shay who peeled back the first layer of Gemma Stone.
“Apparently. I don’t know much of her except she can’t weigh more than nine or ten stone. We were paired in the race by Jo who wanted to win a trophy for her wedding shop.”
Trent laughed. “Everyone wants to take down Pops Yer Uncle. They win every year. So, yes, bring Gemma. Buck and JoJo too. Scottie knows them. Friendly faces might defuse some of the tension.”
