“What?” Kate asked, leaning to her side. “Oh. That’s Pastor Caine with hair. He’s just a kid. What? Maybe fourteen?”
Laurel couldn’t move. Couldn’t even nod. The pastor stared back. He was wearing swim trunks by a riverbank, smiling near a rope swing, his hair to his shoulders. Beautiful auburn hair, red and brown, multicolored. “Look at his eyes,” she whispered.
Kate squinted and leaned in. “Oh. God.” She turned her head to stare into Laurel’s eyes. “They’re the same as yours. I mean, exactly.” She shook her head, leaning back. “I had no idea. Even when he was older and bald, when he’d come into town, he wore either glasses or contacts. I had no clue he had het . . . het . . . I mean . . .”
“Heterochromia,” Laurel said quietly. “Pastor Caine had auburn-colored hair and partial heterochromia within full heterochromatic eyes.”
Kate’s gaze darted around the room and then landed back on Laurel. “Um, is it that rare?”
“Yes.” Laurel looked closer at the boy who became a man to lead a church. A man who had disappeared almost a year ago. Her stomach revolted and she tipped back the rest of her beer, forcing the cool liquid into her stomach to keep from throwing up.
“Does that mean . . .”
Laurel finished the beer and set the bottle aside. “Yes. He is my father.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rain dripped from Laurel’s face as she slammed the door to her mother’s home and dropped her laptop bag before throwing her coat on the floor. “Mom?” Her voice shook.
“I’m in the kitchen,” Deidre called out.
This was unbelievable. How was it even possible? Laurel stomped into the kitchen, for once not heeding the mess of water she left in her wake. “How could you?” So many feelings bombarded her at once, it was as if somebody else possessed her body.
Deidre turned around from stirring something on the stove, a cheerful pink-checked apron covering her yoga outfit. “What?”
Anger, hot and brutal, washed through Laurel. “Is Zeke Caine my father?”
Deidre dropped the wooden spoon, and a white sauce splashed across the wooden floor. She turned so pale, her lips looked blue. “What did you say?” she croaked.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Laurel snapped. “How could you?” She paced to the table and back, her nerves misfiring. “Do you haveanyidea how hard I’ve looked for him through the years? Every database, every record, everywhere I could search for a male with red hair and heterochromia? Even knowing that it was possible he didn’t have either, I kept looking.Needingto know.” She threw up her hands. “Wondering where I came from. Wondering if I was an anomaly or if I shared this ridiculous way of looking to the world with somebody. Withanybody. Wondering if I wasn’t so totally alone.”
“You . . . you aren’t alone.” Deidre turned and switched off the burner. “Let’s sit down and talk about this.”
“I don’t want to sit,” Laurel exploded in a way she never had with her mother. Pain rippled through her like a heated blade. “Youliedto me. So many times.”
Deidre limped over to the table and sank into a chair. “I know. I did.”
“Why?” Laurel yelled. “Why would you do that?”
Red bloomed across Deidre’s pale skin. “You didn’t tell me you were searching for him. I didn’t know.”
Heat blasted Laurel. “I didn’t tell you because what could I say? Hey, Mom. I know you were drugged out and can’t remember how many guys you screwed in Seattle, but I still want to find my dad. Maybe I have siblings.”
Her mom gasped and looked down at her hands.
Laurel breathed out, her chest hurting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Her throat felt raw. “I have his eyes.”
“And his hair,” Deidre said quietly, looking up, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. But even knowing how mad you are, I’d do the same thing again. So hate me all you want.”
Laurel wasn’t ready to sit. Her body felt as if she’d inhaled meth for an hour. “Why? Even if you didn’t like him, why couldn’t I at least know him? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to grow up having no idea who your father is? Wondering if every older man you see on the street might be him? Wondering if you have such terrible luck with men, with dating, because you lacked having a father?” Uncle Blake and Uncle Carl had done their best, but she’d always felt the absence of a father. Of Zeke Caine. Who was now missing.
“I didn’t want you to know him,” Deidre said, her chin becoming firm. “When my parents died, I didn’t go to Seattle. I camped out and goofed off with friends, and one night, the pastor busted us drinking beer on church property. He made everyone go home. Except me. He offered to give me a ride home.” Her voice shook.
Laurel paused and the entire world ground to a stop. She dropped into her chair. “Mom.”
“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to know.”
She couldn’t breathe. “Wh . . . what happened?”
