The men share a sad smile. Inside the house, a telephone rings. Paula bolts upright. "That would be me. I put my ringer on full volume, I'm expecting a call from my daughter." She hustles away, yelling back over her shoulder, "If I don't see you before you leave, it was nice to meet you!"
We echo her words, and David says, "Paula has two children from her first marriage." He looks like he wantssomething to do with his hands, so he leans forward and takes a lemon cookie, slathering it in lemon curd. "I never did have kids. I wanted to, but the chance didn't present itself." He sighs. "Probably a good thing I didn't. I'm adopted, and I never knew about my birth parents. I worried I carried some awful genetic disease or something."
He's adopted? I don't know that it changes anything, but it's...interesting.
"Did you ever find anything out about your birth parents?" I ask. With a little digging, he might've been able to learn if there was any genetic reason he shouldn't have kids.
"I tried looking, once. A long time ago. I learned I have a twin sister, who was also given away at birth. But there was nothing to go on. The adoptions were closed."
Without thinking about it, I rub a hand over my stomach. "Have you ever thought about doing one of those DNA tests? Sorry"—I make a face—"I'm endlessly curious."
David doesn't seem like he minds. "I've considered it, but there's a lot that comes with the results of something like that. Some closets are better left closed, you know?"
I understand what he's saying, but I wholeheartedly disagree. I respect his opinion, though, so I drop it.
David and Hugo talk a little longer. David asks questions about Olive Township, about some of the people, including Margaret. "She still whipping up the best sandwiches in the state?"
Hugo nods. "Couldn't stop her if you tried."
The conversation lulls. It's time to leave.
We thank David for his time, his willingness to talk. He walks us around to the front of his house, pausing in front of Hugo's car.
From his pocket, he produces a small box and hands it to me. "Take this," he says. "The start of your baby's collection."
I open it, finding the coin I came here for. When I reach into my purse, David declines.
"Consider it a gift," he says.
Of course, I cry. If there were one symptom of pregnancy I could get rid of, it would be these tears with a mind of their own.
"Sorry," I apologize, shrugging and swiping at my face. And then I do the most embarrassing thing, but also possibly the most right thing. I throw my arms around him. This man lost so much being wrongly suspected.
David startles at first, but he returns the hug. When we pull apart, he looks happier. Lighter. Hugo offers him a hand, and they shake.
With a final goodbye, David retreats into his home. Hugo gets my door like he said he would.
I'm buckling my seat belt when Hugo's pinky finger slides around mine. His free hand brushes over my cheeks, swiping away any remaining moisture. Neither of us speak. The moment does not need words spoken aloud.
I'm here for you.
The air conditioning hits us on blast as Hugo startsthe car and drives away. It's not hot outside, but I appreciate the stream of cold air against my skin.
It's a good reminder of where we are, and what it is we're doing.
Chapter 18
Hugo
"What doyou think about what he said?" Mallory asks when we're a few miles outside of Sugar Creek.
It's really not what David Boylan said that was impactful, it's more the experience of putting my eyes on him that affected me. "It's not all that different from everything my mom told me. But hearing it from him felt better somehow. I don't know why."
"Now you have certainty. It's always better to hear it directly from the source." Mallory smoothes out her dress. "Thank you for driving me today. I planned on going alone."
Fat chance in hell I'd let her go alone. "There's no way I would let you go by yourself."
Her eyebrows raise, her lips making a sassy little sound. "Let me?"
