In the guest room, she set her laptop on the bed, then turned on the television, keeping the volume down low. She logged onto one of her own streaming services through the available app and brought up the show she’d been watching. She wasn’t that tired—too keyed up from the discussion—but a couple of episodes would help her settle down.
She brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, and slipped beneath the covers, leaning back on the pillows. She dragged her laptop over and opened it. She hadn’t done any work like she’d planned. She’d have to make up for that tomorrow at some point.
Her email was open, so she refreshed it to see if there was anything new. A few promotional newsletters but nothing else.
She almost clicked on the email from her birth mother, just to reread it, but she knew what it said. Their mother, Sharlene “Shar” Lewis, had been short and to the point, agreeing to meet, if that’s what Frankie wanted.
She was seventy-two and had mentioned arthritis, but said she kept busy in her little town of Shipley, Alabama with things at church. Not so busy she couldn’t meet. In fact, she looked forward to it.
Frankie sighed. If only Harper felt that way.
She closed the laptop, leaned back, and pressed Play on the remote. As the show started, her mind wandered, thinking about how bad or how good the meeting might go. She didn’t yet know why their mother had abandoned them, but she wanted to know.
Like Harper, she was sure Sharlene had crafted a version of the story that painted herself in a decent light. It was only human nature. But Frankie considered herself to be a good sifter of the truth. Dealing with middle schoolers all day made that a necessity.
What Sharlene hadn’t mentioned was their birth father. Frankie was as eager to know about him as she was about her mother. Who was he? Was he still alive? Did he want to meet them?
Her adoptive father was a wonderful, caring man, and she would never think of him as anything but Dad. He’d been the driving force behind finding Harper. For that, he would always be her hero.
But that need to know more persisted. And the only way to satisfy that need was by getting answers.
Something she hoped she could make Harper understand.
ChapterTwenty-Four
The conversation about their mother and the fact that Frankie had actually found the woman left Harper unsettled. It was like someone had said, “Do you want the good news or the bad news,” but had only told her the bad news.
Except in this case, it was bad news or worse news. Because a meeting with their mother wasn’t going to go well. Harper knew that like she knew the sky was blue and grass was green. She could feel it. She’d had a lot of years to think about where her mother was, what she might be like, the kind of person she was. Not once had she imagined anything good, because a good person didn’t abandon her children.
Not when they were three and six.
Archie’s soft whine pulled her attention down to him. She scratched under his chin. “What is it, baby dog? You need to go out?”
The whining increased and he tapped his front paws back and forth, making little clicking sounds on the hardwood.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, let me put some shoes on.” She slipped her feet into sneakers and grabbed his leash. They went downstairs together, Archie more enthusiastically, and at the back doors of the rec room, she stopped him and attached his leash. “No racoons tonight. I’m serious.”
He panted eagerly. She decided to take that as his agreeing to be on his best behavior. She opened the door and walked him to the side of the property that bordered Prisha’s house. She wasn’t risking Archie darting onto Mitch’s grounds again.
She didn’t need him thinking Archie was untrained. Or that she was a bad dog mother. Archie was perfect and she was doing her best.
Archie did his thing, then snuffled around in the grass a bit. Harper let him. Better to get it out of his system now than for him to decide at three a.m. that he wanted to go out again. The longer he spent out here, the greater the chance that he might pee a second time and then they’d have a quiet night for sure.
As Archie explored, she followed, letting him lead. Naturally, this took them closer to Mitch’s side. “Archie,” Harper warned. “I meant it when I said no racoons.”
But Archie didn’t seem like he was about to bolt. He wasn’t even looking at the trees.
She secured her grip on the leash and glanced over at Mitch’s house. No lights on in any room that she could see. Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t home, but she doubted that. He didn’t strike her as the type to be out in the evening. Or ever, really. Unless he had a book signing somewhere?
She pulled her phone from her back pocket and did a quick Google search for a Mitchell Ripley book signing. Nothing but past events. So that couldn’t be it. She put her phone away and went back to looking at his house.
Arlington’s request came to the forefront of her mind. How was she going to befriend that man? Maybe she should talk to Joyce about it. If anyone had some insight into Mitch Ripley, it was that woman.
Harper made a note to do that tomorrow, if possible. Returning the empty oatmeal bar container was a good excuse to go over there. Not that shewantedto go over there. How did Joyce work for that man? Mitch had to be nicer to her. There was no other way.
Archie came over and sat beside her.
“Done exploring? Nothing exciting tonight?”
