Despite all the roiling emotions, she laughed. “All right, you can stay, but no more insights.” She pointed at the bag. “What did you bring me?”
He pulled out a box and showed her the front of it.
“Lego?” she asked, her voice doubtful. “You want us to play with Lego toys?”
“We’re going to build something. You’ll like it.”
She studied the color pictures of a beetle and a butterfly. They were really beautiful, and when she was a kid, she and her dad had often built things, but wasn’t it a little juvenile now?
He walked over to the kitchen table and opened the box. “Unless you think you can’t keep up.”
“Really? You’re trying to challenge me into participating?” But as she spoke she took a seat and stared at all the pieces. The colors were iridescent and appealing. “Okay, you win. There’s a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator. Why don’t you go get it for us?”
She pulled out the instructions, setting the one for the beetle on his side of the table and studying hers. There were a lot of steps, as per usual, but the instructions were clear, and she found herself actually kind of excited to get started.
Javiar returned to the table and set down a glass of wine for each of them.
“How are you feeling? You must be close to getting your walking cast.”
“You’d think, but my stupid orthopedist says I can’t be trusted to follow instructions, and he’s making me wait a little longer. Idiot man.”
“Yet you like him. I can hear it in your voice.”
“He knows me, which is the problem. In the past, I’ve been too eager to get back to doing stuff, so he’s careful.”
“Basically it’s your own fault.”
She grinned. “It is, and I have to live with that.” She started sorting pieces. “How do you have time to hang out with me? Shouldn’t you be out selling multi-million-dollar listings?”
“I try to keep a couple of evenings free every week. I need a personal life. Balance is healthy.”
She eyed him. “I’m not part of your personal life. I told you—no relationships. Only sex.”
“And Lego,” he teased.
“Fine. And Lego.”
“How are you doing otherwise?” he asked. “You know, with the adoption thing.”
She figured Shannon would have told him about her lunch with Ava and the whole you-were-the-chosen-one thing, not to mention the fact that she and Shannon seemed to be becoming friends.
“I’m fine with it.” She paused. “Mostly. I’m confused about my mother. I was so hurt and angry that she kept a memory box for another kid. It makes me feel I don’t matter.”
“Your parents love you.”
She looked at him. “You have no possible way of knowing that.”
“You’re too strong not to have been loved. Unloved people don’t have giving hearts.”
“My heart’s not giving. Don’t say that it is. I’m repressed and wary.” She thought about what Shannon had said before. Thatshe was an emotional coward who pretended to be independent when she really wanted connection. “It’s possible I have issues.”
“Maybe, but you do love. People have to learn how. It’s not always instinctive. If you know how to love, you were probably loved yourself.”
“Yes, I love, but I don’t always like. I want things to be simple and predictable, and they’re not. Like I said before, I was so angry at my mom for that stupid memory box. And the name thing.” She looked at him. “Do you know about that?”
He nodded. “They were going to call ShannonVictoria. It’s a family name.”
“When you say it like that, it doesn’t feel so awful, but when I first found out, it was a slap. Like they couldn’t be bothered to change anything. I was a placeholder baby.”
