“I wish you would call me Whit,” he said abruptly.
I was taken aback by the request. “Uh…okay. Sure. And you can call me Zellie. No need to be formal. I mean, you can’t be that much older than I am.”
He didn’t respond, taking cover behind that stony mask again. When he finally spoke, the topic wasn’t at all what I expected.
“My father was obsessed with his legacy,” Whit said. “He was fixated on having children. I’m the only son still living and not exactly the heir he imagined. That’s why I thought…what I thought. I’ve had quite a few stepmothers, Zellie. But after meeting you and hearing your side of things, I think perhaps my father saw something in you that reminded him of someone else he knew once. You even look like her a bit, except her hair was darker, didn’t have any of the red in it that yours does.”
“Mr. Monty never mentioned anyone,” I told him. “What happened to her?”
“She took her life when she discovered she was pregnant,” Whit said, his tone flat, matter of fact.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t ask for any additional details and Whit didn’t offer them. It was none of my business. Monty’s motivations—for helping me or for marrying however many women he’d married—were his own. I wasn’t there to judge.
I thought about my own life as we sat there in silence, listening to the peaceful sounds of the spring evening, watching the lightning bugs begin their nightly dance as the sun sank lower.
How different things might have been had I lived in a different time. The desperation that Mr. Monty’s friend? sister? lover? must’ve felt to resort to something so extreme… I’d chosen to keep Henry when I found out I was pregnant. But I’dhada choice—at least at that point.
“My mother threw me out when I got pregnant,” I told him. “I tarnished her image with her church friends. She called me a sinner, a whore. Demanded to know who the father was.”
“Did the father not offer to help you?” Whit asked.
I shook my head. “He didn’tknow. I…”
I shifted a little, not sure why I was sharing so much when I still barely knew Whit, had no idea if he’d judge me like others had. Maybe it was the quiet of the evening, the peacefulness that surrounded me there in the garden, peace that had eluded me my entire life. Whatever the reason, the words came out as easily as if I was talking to a trusted friend.
“I didn’t know his name. A one-night stand—which isn’t my style, by the way. I don’t remember the details, can’t really even tell you what he looked like. But I know he was wonderful. Tender. Kind. And for that one night, I loved him intensely.”
Whit stared at me, a range of just barely noticeable expressions washing over his face as if he didn’t know what to say.
I laughed a little, embarrassed at waxing poetic. “Sorry—I’ve been reading too much from the Romantic period, which isn’tromanticat all. It’s mostly tragic really.”
He tilted his head, curious. “The Romantic period?”
I shrugged. “Books, poetry… It’s probably my favorite literary period.” I noticed his surprised expression and added, “Might come as a shock to you, Whit, but even us poor folks can read.”
“Well, you sure do have a way of making me feel like I need a crowbar to pry this foot out of my mouth,” he replied, shaking his head with a laugh. “Zellie, I think you might be just the one to keep me humble.”
I lifted a brow at him. “Happy to oblige. Any other ways I can cut you down to size?”
He held up his hands as if warding off my attack. “No, no! I think that’s enough for one night!”
We grinned at each other until the intensity of his gaze brought warmth to my cheeks, and I looked away. Was I seriouslyflirtingwith him? After just swearing up and down that I wasn’t about to sleep with him to get a break on my rent? Way to reinforcethatmessage.
Time to call it a night.
“Henry!” I called. “It’s time to go in, baby!”
Henry and Addie both shouted a long, melodramatic, “Nooo!”
“Adelaide, you listen to Ms. Zellie,” Whit said, his tone gentle but firm.
Addie mumbled a resigned “Yes, sir” before brushing her curls out of her face, leaving a muddy streak across her forehead. I smothered a grin, deciding I already adored the quirky little girl.
The kids jogged over to us, Henry lagging a little behind, panting heavier than I liked.
Yeah, definitely time to go.
