I saw the way her face flushed and her pulse rushed when we touched, and I couldn’t stop my own heart from pounding too. I’d never had a woman affect me that way. I wanted to stay, I wanted to get to know her, but I knew I had to go.
Now, as I sit here, hearing how she went above and beyond for my daughter just because she wanted to, proves that my intuition was right. Sheisdifferent.
Even though it’s a religious song Cailin is singing, I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life—the day my daughter taughtmea song—and I have Miss Russo to thank for it.
I hear the car door open, and Cailin shows me on FaceTime that Linda just got back in the car.
“What did she say?” I ask Linda.
Linda laughs as she grabs the phone from Cailin. “She must have just seen it when I approached her. She was a little in shock, but I think everything will be fine.MissRusso seems to handle things in stride. I mean, she handles a room full of kindergarteners all day, so what’s a few paparazzi compared to that?”
She laughs at her own joke, and I smile. Linda’s always been able to find the bright side in every situation. Her optimism is what got me through life.
“MissRusso is a kind soul, and I’m not concerned in any way that she’ll help keep Cailin safe and away from any unwanted attention while at school. I’m positiveMissRusso is on our side.”
“Is there a reason you keep sayingMissRusso, Linda? Are you trying to hint at something here?” I taunt, knowing Linda has something on her mind.
The grin that slowly spreads across her face proves I’m right, but she acts like I’m not.
“I’m just simply stating her name; that’s all.”
She grins, and I laugh out loud.
“Give me back to my daughter,Mrs.Jacobson.”
“Good-bye, dear,” she says as she hands Cailin back the phone.
My daughter’s face fills the screen a little too close. “Tell me about the show last night,” Cailin says. “Did you make it in time?”
“I was a little late, but no one noticed. It was worth every second. You looked so beautiful, Sugarplum.”
Her face lights up, and when my favorite dimple on her left cheek shines brightly through the phone, I have to blink back the tear it brings me every time.
“Thanks, Chestnut. I had fun. The kids all asked who you were and why you left so fast.”
“Did you tell them who I was?”
“Duuuuhhhhh,” she draws out, like it’s the stupidest question I ever asked. “I told them you were my daddy!”
I laugh out loud. Of course she did. To her, that’s all I am. I hope that never changes.
* * *
Sarah
When I get home, I tell myself not to look at the news reports, not to search online, and to go about the rest of my day. Yeah, that lasts all of about ten minutes.
I start with the link Maggie sent me, and down the rabbit hole I go. Linda was right. Most of the comments are more focused on me. People wondering who I am, others wanting to be me. Some comments are mean, and some are positive.
Thankfully, nothing is mentioned about my past or who I really am—or rather, was—outside of this town. Ever since that fateful night, I’ve tried to forget that person ever existed. As far as my father’s concerned, she died, lying on that asphalt.
People question if I’m Cailin’s mom or if Adam is truly her dad.
I Google his name and click on pictures. Thousands of photos pop up, overwhelming me.
As I scroll, picture after picture shows a man with eyes so crystal blue, you wonder if you can see through them. His style is all his own as he stands out above the other guys in the band.
A small star tattoo shines to the side of his right eye in a photo, but what catches my attention is the way he has his hand up, showing his pinkie fingernail painted black. I’ve noticed Cailin only has her pinkie nail painted purple. I’ve questioned why, but remembering back to them holding both up together proves it’s for each other and no one else.
