Ivy wished she could reel her words back in based on his response.Her own mother had suffered from mental health setbacks after Eric had been born.Her father had battled his demons.Her family wouldn’t be filed under the category of “perfect” by any means, but they’d done their best.Her parents had loved each other.They’d loved their children.Ivy might have felt neglected and alone once all the attention had gone to Eric, but she’d known deep down that her parents loved her.Had she tried to be the perfect person to gain their attention?Their approval?
Yes.It was clear to her now that many of her actions had been aimed at winning their approval.So, no, she had no clue what it was like to grow up in Beau’s situation.She could relate to being shoved into the shadows after Eric had been born, if not growing up there.At least Ivy had experienced fifteen years with her parents before their lives, much like the ocean current, had been churned upside-down.
Beau’s life?She couldn’t imagine how awful it would feel to be someone’s child without belonging to a family.To feel the weight of responsibility for an adult who was supposed to take care of you instead of the other way around.
Reality gut-punched her.
She did know what that felt like.She’d been older—fifteen instead of a young child.
Maybe the two of them had more in common than she’d realized.
“Lucky was definitely the wrong word choice,” she said, joining him at the table and keeping a seat between them.It was just enough space to tamp down some of the electricity crackling between them.
“You think?”He issued a sharp sigh.“I shouldn’t take out my frustrations on you.Forget I just said that.”
His reaction had hurt her feelings more than she cared to admit.Caring meant watching every word she said and walking around, afraid to step on landmines, like she had with her parents.
Damn.
Ivy shoved those thoughts aside, unable and unwilling to process them when she needed to stay focused on finding her father and bringing him home safely.
“We never really explored how our parents might know each other,” she said to Beau, changing the subject.“Are you from Austin?”
“Yes.”
“Is that where you grew up?”she asked.
“In and around, depending on how much money we had.Sometimes, it was on the street.”
Shit.
“That must’ve been hard,” she said before she could take the words back.Of course, it was hard.She wished every child had a stable home and family.Hers had been turned upside-down, but not before she’d known what family life was.It was shocking that Beau had turned out so…normal.
Normal?
This man was most definitely not normal.He was extraordinary, grounded, and intelligent.He had a spark behind his eyes that lit a fire inside her.He was magnetic, and she could scarcely force her gaze from the sharp angles and hard planes of a face too beautiful for his own good.Correction, forherown good.
“It wasn’t easy.”He stared at the rim of his coffee mug.
“My father has gone through drinking bouts, like I said before,” she said.“What about your mother?Did she drink?Would she have shown up at an AA meeting?”Austin had a population of close to a million, not including the surrounding cities.Downtown could feel like being trapped in an ant farm, with people crawling all over each other.What were the odds their parents had frequented the same haunts?
Slim to none.
Then, how were they connected?
“My mom would never set foot in an AA meeting.”Beau took a sip.“She would never admit to her drinking being a problem or something she needed to seek help for.”
“That rules out AA.”Where else could they have met?“Where did your mom like to go?”
“We’re probably focusing on the wrong thing.Maybe we should try to figure out a way to check phone logs.Can we request a call and text log from their carriers?”
“I tried to do that once for my father.”She shook her head.“Carriers are very strict about that sort of thing.I was told that I needed explicit consent or a subpoena.We’d have to bring in the law.”
“Who will just file a missing person’s report and move on,” he said.
“You’re not wrong about that.”She should know.She’d filed one for her father not once but twice.
How many more times would she have to file a report before they took action?
