Eden
“You’resureit’snottoo soon?” Milo asked for what had to be the tenth time in the past two days.
“It’s fine, Milo. I told you it was fine when you called to check. I told you it was fine when you started worrying it was too soon an hour after that. I told you it was fine this morning, and two minutes ago, and I think you know where I’m going with this.”
He grinned. “I’m thinking you’re gearing up to kick my ass if I don’t stop asking.”
“You’d be right.”
Despite my annoyance, I appreciated his concern. I was the one who’d flipped my lid when he first brought it up—I couldn’t blame him for being cautious now. The Davies family already had one perfect daughter-in-law and one epic failure.Milo had as much right to be nervous about my reception as I did, no matter how many times he insisted they would love me.
We eventually moved on to eating our lunches behind the counter at Garden of Delights in comfortable silence, until Addie burst through the front door. There was an expression on her face that I couldn’t quite place, but it didn’t look good.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, rising from my seat.
Addie made her way toward us with her hands raised like she was trying to calm me down before she’d even said a word. Milo stood, wrapping an arm around my waist, his gaze locked on my cousin.
“You know how I was checking up on your parents, to make sure they weren’t secretly stalking you and interfering with your life now that you’re finally free of them?”
I blinked at her in confusion. “Yes.”
“I found out something and I think you might want to sit down for this, babe,” she said gently.
Milo’s arm tightened, then he guided me back down to my chair while Addie circled the counter. He stayed standing, his hands on my shoulders, and Addie lowered herself into his seat.
When she didn’t speak right away, I snapped, “For fuck’s sake, what is it?”
Addie pulled her phone from her purse, unlocked the screen, and passed it to me. The page she’d pulled up showed a picture of my parents, unsmiling as ever. I glanced at the web address and saw it was their church’s page.
“I’m sorry, Eden,” Addie whispered.
I scrolled down and read the announcement. My parents had sold everything they owned, donated the money to their church, and left for a missionary trip overseas. They were scheduled to be gone for five years, and the date on the announcement was almost three years ago.
Around the time Isaiah had called me. I wondered if that was why he called, but he hadn’t said a word about them.
“They’re gone. The house, all of it. It’s gone,” I said flatly.
Milo’s fingers tensed on my shoulders, then he rubbed his hands up and down my arms and asked, “They left without trying to get in touch with you?”
I lifted my head just in time to catch the look Addie gave Milo. “I don’t understand.”
“They’re selfish assholes, babe. I’m sorry,” Addie said.
“No, I know that. I don’t understand why you wanted me to sit down for this.”
Both of them were silent, so I handed Addie’s phone back to her and stood again, feeling suddenly restless.
“Thank you for telling me, but it’s fine. I took everything that meant anything to me when I left home at eighteen. This is news, but it’s not upsetting. They’ve been gone from my life a lot longer than a few years, Addie. You know that.”
“There’s more,” Addie said quietly. She switched to a different screen and passed the phone back.
Reverend Isaiah Campbell, pictured with his wife and daughter, announced as new head of Binghamton’s Churchof Eternal Light.
“Wife and daughter,” I read aloud, staring at the photo.
It was dated several years ago, also around the time my brother had called me to try to convince me to rejoin the church. The woman was covered neck to ankles in the kind of ugly, shapeless dress my mother favored and the dark-haired, dark-eyed little girl—my niece, apparently, looking younger than Carter in this picture—was wearing a long skirt and high-necked blouse. None of them were smiling.
Unlike the news about my parents leaving the country, this hit me like a cannonball to the chest, knocking the breath straight out of my lungs.
