Her brown eyes washed to the ground. “You’re avoiding my calls.”
“For good reason.”
“Blissful, how many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry?”
“About a thousand.”
Tart’s mouth puckered into a bow. “Fine. I’ll start now. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”
Seeing where this was headed, I cut it off. “You can stop. Okay. Bring in the doughnuts. Did you at least have the decency to bring coffee as well?”
Tart grimaced.
“Come in and I’ll make you some.”
I made coffee and plated two doughnuts. I really needed to add more variety to my diet other than caffeine and sugar. According to doctors the combination wasn’t exactly good for you.
Like I cared when I awoke feeling like I’d spent half the night crouched on wet grass.
Tart beamed at me from across the table. “Blissful, I know I’ve explained to you what happened—that when I discovered I was pregnant, we decided the best thing was to give you up for adoption—but I can’t tell you how wrong that decision was.”
I bit into the doughnut and stared at her. “Okay. It was wrong. Thank you for saying that. Now can you please make up for the twenty-odd years of my life that were spent without you? Like my clairvoyant childhood, perhaps? Maybe you can go back and bully the kids who bullied me when I saw a spirit. Or tell the sister that boxed my ears for lying that I wasn’t lying after all. Can you go back and do that?”
Tart stared at her hands. “No. Of course not. I’m sorry. There was no way for us to know that you’d be born with my gift.”
“And would it have changed anything? You gave me up, let the sisters have me. I grew up an orphan. The only reason why I was ever adopted is because Vince Breneaux found me, thanks to my priest father, whoeverhewas.”
Tart opened her mouth to speak. I raised my hand, stopping her. “I know all about it. My father told Vince about me before he died. Somehow Vince knew you, too.” I wagged my finger at her. “But that part I’ve never figured out. I never did know how exactly you could tell Vince all about me but not try to get me yourselves.”
Tart shook her head. “We put you there to protect you.”
I scowled. “Protect me. From what?”
“In case you were clairvoyant, from your powers being exploited.” She extended her hand toward mine. I pulled away. Tart frowned. “I couldn’t keep you. I was a nun with no place to go. Your father couldn’t leave, either. Yes, we broke our vows, but we prayed and prayed and that was the decision we made. We were able to keep the pregnancy a secret. Then I had you and we put you up for adoption in the best place we knew. If we’d kept you, then more people would’ve known about you—suspected you had abilities. Your gifts would’ve drawn too much attention.”
I scoffed. “And they don’t draw attention now?”
Tart flexed her fingers as if in thought. “We did what we could to keep you safe. It didn’t work because obviously he found you anyway and tainted you toward us.”
“Who?”
“Vince Breneaux. The man who adopted you.” She paused. “This may be hard to understand, but we never trusted him. We wanted to keep you away from him, but we failed.”
Tart reached for me but stopped herself. “I don’t know how Vince ultimately learned about you, but your father never would’ve told that man of your existence.”
I reached for another doughnut. “Why didn’t you trust him?”
“Because we were afraid he would use your powers in the wrong way.”
I rolled my eyes. “You were right about that. He lied to me about a spirit. That probably wasn’t the only thing he lied to me about.”
“It wasn’t.” Tart extended her hand, and this time I let her clasp my wrist. “He lied to you about something else, too.”
“What’s that?”
“Your father.” Tart licked her lips. “He’s not dead. He’s very much alive.”
FIVE
