“Where is he now?”
Ellie glanced outside, as if her answers lay there. The grooves between her eyes deepened. “Dunno. We were going to do homework earlier and he had to leave all of a sudden.”
For any other pair of humans, that would seem totally normal. For Ellie and Devin? Strange. Something was brewing, but I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it.
Ellie eyed me. “You have something on your mind, don’t you?”
With a half laugh and a shrug, I said, “I think Mama’s haunting me.”
One fine black eyebrow quirked. I nodded. What other explanation could there be for the memories that were always surfacing? The whisper of Mama’s voice in my mind at the weirdest times? She seemed everywhere to me now.
“Do tell,” she murmured.
A thousand pictures played back through my head, racing on the heels of the others, Mama’s voice in the background.
“There’s always one man out there who will love you, understand you, and keep you safe. Make sure you settle with that one. You’ll know it if he brings the romance, Lizzy.”
“If the romance isn’t there, then neither is the ring. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Make him swoon you a bit, sweetheart.”
Her advice had been in direct opposition to the way she’d lived her life. Mama had met Dad, sensed that he wouldn’t let her go but also wouldn’t ask her to stay, and held on. Then she’d sought love elsewhere. She wouldn’t let Dad go, but she wouldn’t love him, either. Like she despised him for being the person she relied on the most.
Meanwhile, she wove magic around romance every time she gave me advice.
“You know who your father is, don’t you?” I asked instead of diving back into Mama. First, I needed answers.
Ellie froze, then reluctantly nodded.
“How did you find out?”
“Watched Mama. Followed her over to his house a few times in the middle of the night when I was six or seven.” She set her mug down. “Most of the time she stayed until just before Jim returned from . . . wherever he went at night.”
“The bar, probably.”
Ellie nodded.
“How old were you when you found out he was your father?”
“Six.”
“How?” I asked with a shake of my head. “How did you know?”
“Mama caught me following her over there one day. I dug into a hay bale to stay warm and waited until she came back early in the morning. Mama told me everything then. Besides, she hated Jim and I looked nothing like him. Then I saw Trevor and it confirmed it for me. I have his eyes.” Her expression softened slightly.
Trevor. She’d never told me his name before, and Mama had never said it. Ellie knew our neighbors and land better than anyone else. She often slept outside in the summer to be closer to the cats and horses. Something about animals reassured her. She always had one in her arms, even now.
“Does Trevor know the truth about you?” I asked.
“Mama never told him.”
“Why?”
“She said it would ruin the romance.”
My heart sank all the way into my nauseated stomach. What kind of a mama said that to her daughter? A mama totally obsessed with something that wasn’t real. For the first time, I began to notice a sense of familiarity around Mama’s love of romance. A familiarity that made me want to vomit.
I shoved that aside.
“Did you ever talk to Trevor?”
“Only once.”
I waited for more, but Ellie stopped talking. She’d already given more than I’d expected. It didn’t feel right to push her farther.
“Thanks,” I said. “All that information, it . . . it helps.”
Her gaze tapered. “What’s going on?”
My fingers fidgeted with my cloth napkin in an unsuccessful attempt to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles. The past couple of days with JJ had been . . . lovely. Perfect. A balance between surreality and hope. Days that I wouldn’t give away or change for anything.
Yet Mama plagued me.
I’d asked Ellie here because I needed validation. Did I remember Mama correctly? The memories hovered on the surface of my mind in bright flashes, almost as if she were standing right in front of me. Obsessed with a specific vision of love that she’d chased her whole life and never found. Had I made some of this up? It seemed too wild to be real.
Would I end up just like her?
“What do you remember about her?” I asked instead of answering her question.
Ellie frowned. “That’s not a fair question. I was so little.”
“You loved her more than anyone. Maybe you remember something different than me or Bethie.”
She growled, “I’m not doing a walk down memory lane unless you tell me what’s going on.”
“How about I tell you what I remember?” I said quickly. “I remember makeup. Tight dresses. Big heels. I remember her smiling most of the time, unless she wasn’t. There wasn’t neutral on Mama, just . . . happy or angry. I remember Dad being jealous when he was drunk and Mama slapping him for it seconds before she took his paycheck to the bank.”
Ellie’s expression soured, but she hadn’t left, so I knew she’d stick with it. After a long pause, she said, “I remember love songs.”
“Love songs?”
“Mama always played love songs. Cheesy ones. Ridiculous ones.” She rolled her eyes. “The kind you could buy off of a commercial for $9.99. She’d sing them at the top of her lungs while she danced around the house.”
That stirred vague memories. Ellie twiddled her fingers, as if to flick it away.
“She did it mostly when you were at school. Said she didn’t want it to distract you from studying. That your mind was going to take you places. That you wouldn’t need a man to save you like she did.”
My nostrils flared. “She never said that to me.”
“I know.”
Ellie’s calm expression sent a bolt of fire through me, but it faded.
“What else didn’t she say to me?”
