Her smile faltered long enough for him to see this one made her nervous, not excited. She set the burrito down and sipped her Coke. Kurt waited, forcing a patience he didn’t feel.
“I found him, Kurt.”
She was looking at the table, not him, and her voice was soft. It took Kurt a minute to process her words. He played them over and over while she fidgeted with the tie string of her pants.
“I didn’t think it could ever happen,” she said into the silence. “I didn’t think the world was small enough, but it turns out it is. I mean, we lived in Texas even.”
Kurt swallowed hard and leaned forward, pressing his thumbs into his temples. He wanted to drown out her words, wanted her to stop talking. His stomach flopped like a fish on land. All these years he thought knowing was an impossibility. Thought he’d never know more than a handful of nonessential details. His father’s name was Kurt. He had brown eyes and a kind smile. He was from North Carolina, and he wasn’t in the military.
He was also the only guy she slept with the month Kurt was conceived.
“A friend of his—one of the guys he was hanging with the night we spent together—came into the diner. I wouldn’t have recognized him from a hundred thousand other worn-out ex-soldiers coming to the post for a weekend brush of nostalgia. But he recognized me. He gave me a name and a number. He told me a little about what your father’s doing now, if you’d like to know.”
Kurt held up his hand and shook his head. “You know his name? His last name?”
“Yeah. His friend even had a picture on his phone. The resemblance was undeniable.”
Kurt dragged his fingers through his hair. He crossed over to a window, not able to open it fast enough even though it was only in the midfifties outside. His skin was hot, burning even, and his fingers and toes were humming with electricity.
“Does William know?”
“Yes.”
“What’d he say?”
“He’s too much like you to say much of anything.”
“Did Nana know?”
“No, this happened after.”
Kurt walked into the kitchen and braced himself against the counter, drumming his fingers on the Formica. “I’d like to think about it.”
“I understand. There’s no rush. Look, if you decide not to open it, no one’s going to blame you. This is yours to do with as you wish.” Sara stood up and placed the book, picture frame, and letters back in the box.
“Don’t put that letter in there. Not if I’m supposed to take that stuff with me. Keep it here. I’ve got to think about it, and I don’t want it with me while I do.”
“That makes sense.” She sank back to the couch like she was overcome with a wave of fatigue. “Kurt, should I not have told you?”
He drummed his fingers some more. “No, I’m glad you did.”
“It doesn’t have to change anything, if you don’t want it to. But it might also offer you some clarity. Think about it.”
“I will.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the cool Formica counter. Most of his life, he’d have given pretty much anything for this news. Now that the impossible wasn’t impossible, it felt like he’d been handed Pandora’s box.
He was a soldier. He’d been trained to stand his ground and fight. To face any adversary head-on. Bravery was in his blood. So why the hell did hearing this make him want to run and run and never stop running?
Chapter 21
“These have to be the cutest wedding favors ever.” Kelsey held up a chubby, handblown glass honey pot, admiring it in the sunlight streaming onto Ida’s covered front porch. Kelsey had just finished using raffia to tie on a wooden dipper and handmade paper tag that read Sweet Beginnings. On the tag’s other side were Megan’s and Craig’s names and their wedding date, now just two days away. The four-ounce honey pot was small and squat-bottomed, and thanks to the honey inside, it shone with an amber glow in the afternoon light. “Would it be bad luck if I took mine home today? Maybe I should wait until after you text me beachside pictures of the big moment.”
From her spot at the end of the eight-foot-long folding table that had been set up for this afternoon’s craft project, Megan waved her hand dismissively. “Take one now. I’m not letting in any room for superstition or worry or anything else. And after you endure all this sticky mess with me, you deserve a giant pot, not a tiny one.”
“These are perfect. I’m going to put mine where I see it all the time.”
Megan had purchased three gallons of honey from a sustainable farm in the Missouri wine country not far from where they were hosting the reception next weekend, and now their job was to get the honey into the small pots. “They are cute, aren’t they? Only I’m worried we won’t have enough honey. I didn’t really account for the spills in my calculations.”
The front door pulled open, and Ida rejoined them on the porch. She held a glass measuring cup with a spouted rim and a plastic funnel. “These could help keep the outsides of the pots from getting so messy. What else can I get you?”
Kelsey had mentioned to Ida during their dinner that she’d volunteered to help assemble Megan’s wedding favors. Ida had been so excited by the idea that she’d offered for the assembly to take place at her house and to provide lunch as well. Megan had been eager to meet her ever since she’d learned Sabrina’s sister was living next door, and she was deeply touched by the offer.
Megan’s wedding was approaching with lightning
