Dawn stared into her tea—she hadn’t taken a sip either. Like Estelle with her props, that morning in a whole other world. “Once you girls settled in, it really did feel like you’d always been ours. Lana, honey, I hope you know how deeply and absolutelyyou were loved.Areloved. I wanted you to grow up with no doubts about where you belonged, who your family was.”
“I never questioned it, Mom.” Lana smiled, but she got a twinge of guilt. Only two days ago, she’d told Griffin:We grew up feeling like we didn’t fit.
“Sometimes it seemed you and Vivi were a secret society,” her dad said, heading to the kitchen. “She considered you to be hers, not ours. She’d call you ‘her’ baby, the way other kids spoke about their dolls.”
“And the way she always looked out for you,” Dawn added, “likeshewas the mom. I think a subconscious part of her always knew.”
Todd returned with the coffee pot and refilled Griffin’s mug. Lana should probably warn him about the strength of her dad’s coffee.
“So, Griffin, how do you know Lana?”
“I worked on the same TV set as Vivien, though I didn’t know her. Lana and I met by chance, and…” Griffin seemed unsure himself how all this had come about. Lana could relate.
“Griffin kindly offered to help,” she said. She didn’t want to admit they’d only met on Friday. “He’s been … incredible, really.”
Griffin looked genuinely touched, his kind eyes a balm on Lana’s nerves. Kind, intense, teasing—each mode had a different effect on her pulse and her breath, every single damn time he looked at her. How did she get herself in so deep, so quickly? And how much of it was the intensity of her attraction, and how much the intensity of the situation?
Her mother stood, brushing her jeans. “You must be starving after that journey! What time did you leave to get here so early?” Fortunately, the question was rhetorical—Lana hadn’t admitted to the carbon-gushing private plane. “Todd’s made soup, if you’re hungry? Leek and potato—homegrown, of course.” Lanawas about to decline when Griffin enthusiastically accepted. “You’ll be staying the night, I assume?”
Lana took that one. “Ah, no, we’re heading straight back.”
“You’re flying back today?”
“We have to keep looking for Vivien.” Lana didn’t want to mention Darnell’s message, loath to get their hopes up if it turned out to be nothing. Hell, she didn’t want to get her own hopes up.
“That’s an awful lot of traveling for one short conversation.”
Lana stood. “Short but significant. I’ll help you serve up.” She wasn’t hungry, but no way would her mother send anyone away without at least attempting to feed them. Griffin went to stand too, but Lana gestured at him to stay seated. There was barely room for two people in the kitchen.
Todd turned to Griffin. “What is it you do in the film industry?”
A tiny, disbelieving smile flickered at the corner of Griffin’s mouth. “I’m an actor.” He met Lana’s gaze and subtly widened his eyes. She grinned.
“And what is it you do formoney?” her father asked.
“Dad!”
“A joke.” Todd sat back in his chair and popped up the footrest. “I lived in L.A. briefly in my early twenties—long enough to know it wasn’t for me. Some of my friends were actors. That is to say, they were tour guides or bartenders.”
Lana pulled out soup bowls, keeping an eye on her father.
Griffin flipped up his own footrest. “I’m fortunate enough to be able to act full-time.”
“So you’re making a living from it, or…?”
“Dad! Griffin is one of the?—”
“It’s okay, Lana.” Griffin gave her a pointed look. He was trying hard not to smile.
“Sweetheart, I’m just relating to the hustle. I’m an artist, a landscape painter,” Todd explained to Griffin. “Which means most of my income comes from odd jobs around town, selling bread and veggies at the Saturday market, and teaching art classes at the community hall.”
“So far, I’ve managed to get regular work. I still live with my parents though—just makes a lot of sense.”
Todd wriggled to get comfortable, never one to squander an opportunity to share wisdom. “The advice I give young people in my art classes? Learn a trade. Practical skills are always in demand—building, electrical, plumbing. People will always need houses, and those houses will need maintenance. Get a day job and pursue arts as a hobby, not a career. Don’t let the need to make money kill your love for your art. But it does sound like you’ve been relatively lucky … so far.”
“Sound advice, Mr. Fleming. If the acting gigs dry up, I will definitely consider that.”
“How about getting that dill, Todd?” Lana’s mom called. “And parsley, while you’re at it?”
