He glanced at their hands and said, “What?”
“Lucy is my mother’s twin sister. I don’t remember how similar they look, but I thought I should warn you.”
“Thanks. I’m prepared. Are you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Ryan met her eyes. “You always have a choice.”
“No, I owe it to Mom to at least talk to her.”
“Let’s get it over with, then,” he said, jerking the handle to get out of the car.
The yard was in disrepair. The lawn had been cut but was dry from the lack of water and the hot weather. The house looked clean, but old and in need of a paint job. She wondered if Lucy had someone to help her around the house. Bailey had always been there to help her mother, and if she couldn’t, Ryan and Vince could always fix things for her.
When the door opened, Bailey and Ryan both held their breath, and at the sight of Lucy, let it out slowly.
“Can I help you?” she asked, squinting at the sun.
“Aunt Lucy, hi, I’m Bailey.”
Lucy felt for the glasses around her neck then slid them on, taking a closer look. After a moment, she grinned and said, “Oh my, Bailey Grace, look at you.”
Bailey smiled and thought, oh my, Aunt Lucy, look at you. Her silver hair was cut in a short bob, her cheeks rosy red, and the lines on her face deep. Much deeper than her mother’s had been. Lucy was hunched over, leaning on a cane, a cigarette poking out from between her fingers, the smoke drifting up to Bailey’s nose. The tip of the cigarette shook so badly, Bailey was afraid the ash would drop to the carpet and catch fire.
There was a hint of her mother behind the dark circles under her eyes, but not enough in Bailey’s opinion. Besides her diabetes, Helen had been the picture of health. She always ate right and exercised, and she never smoked.
“Aunt Lucy, how are you?”
“Fine,” she croaked, the word causing a coughing fit that made Bailey worry she might go into a spasm and collapse. Her face turned redder, and her eyes bulged out, dark purple veins in her neck popping out as if they wanted to break free. Bailey and Ryan gave her a minute to catch her breath.
She opened the door for them. “Lucy, this is my friend Ryan.”
“Oh, yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve heard of you, young man. Helen always had nice things to say about you. You’re the neighbor boy with the guitar, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Helen taught me how to play.” He smiled and looked down at his feet.
“Well, come in and sit down. I want to hear how you’re doing and what brings you to this God-forsaken city.”
Bailey chuckled and said, “We’re hoping to get some answers about my birth.”
“And how in the hell do you plan to do that when nobody knows anything about your birth?”
She was right out there, wasn’t she? Bailey smiled at Ryan. “I was hoping someone might know something.”
“Like what?” she asked indignantly. “You were found in the yard. What else is there to know?”
“I want to know why, and I want to know who left me there.”
She gave Bailey a dismissive wave. “Waste of time, if you ask me, but I guess we all have our crosses to bear, don’t we?”
Bailey sat on an old, moth-eaten sofa and looked around at the house. It was tidy, but not clean. She could see the dust and a layer of nicotine grime covering every surface. The windows were dingy and clouded, making Bailey’s eyes water at the sight. It smelled, too—reeked actually—from the smoke.
Lucy sat across from them in an old, green velour rocking chair with little burn marks over the arms. “Let’s see, Helen called me in the middle of the night, nearly hysterical. She screamed into the phone, ‘We found a baby. Can you believe it, sis? We found a baby in the yard, as if delivered from God Himself.’” Lucy took a drag on her cigarette. “Hell, I didn’t even know what she was talking about.”
Bailey swallowed hard and leaned back against the sofa cushions. “Delivered from God?” she repeated.
“Yeah, well, not that long ago, your mother believed in God. She lost her way once she went out to California, but we were raised to be good Christian girls.”
“Helen believed in God,” Ryan said, and if Lucy didn’t hear the defensive tone, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Bailey.
“She just didn’t believe in organized religion. She didn’t believe in the structure of the church,” Bailey said.
“How can you call yourself a Christian if you don’t go to church?”
“Easy,” Ryan said.
Bailey held up a hand to stop them both. She could feel Ryan’s anger building. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Anyway,” Lucy said. “I rushed over there and, sure enough, there you were. Pretty little thing, with rosy cheeks and a ton of dark hair.” She smiled and said, “Ernie was beside himself. He was pale as a ghost, all hyped up like he was on drugs or something. I told Helen that, but she said it was just adrenaline.” She took another drag, the ash dropping from the end of her cigarette onto the arm of the chair. “So Helen said she wanted to adopt you, and they let her. The entire town got behind the movement. I never seen anything like it.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.
“Helen was a diabetic. Some people coulda said she can’t take care of a baby. The judge coulda said no, but everyone in town showed up that day to plead to the judge. Everyone wanted Bailey to stay a Morton. It just seemed right.”
“With that much support, why did my parents want to move away?” Bailey asked.
“They didn’t want you to grow up with everyone in town looking on. Helen knew the first time she did something they didn’t
