“Good,” Trey said. “I was worried something stupid like becoming a mom might interfere with your political wranglings.”
I sighed. “Dana and I went to see her a week ago.”
He put his fork down and clasped his hands in front of him. “And it’s taken you this long to tell me about it?”
“I’ve been . . . Trey, if you could see inside my brain right now, you’d be calling the guys in the white jackets.”
“What’s she like?”
For the hundredth time, my mind went through an inventory of Shayla’s most endearing features. “She’s beautiful. Luminous. Artistic. Precocious. Sweet . . .”
“So not a chip off the old block is what you’re saying.”
“She seems to be everything he wasn’t.”
“And . . . ?”
“And . . . Trey, I’m terrified.”
“Good. Then you’re getting the big picture.”
“I like my life,” I said on a sigh.
Trey raised a dubious eyebrow.
“I do!” I repeated with greater conviction. “I like that there’s only me in it. I’m the only one making decisions and living with their consequences. And I’m the only one decorating my house and paying my bills and picking out DVDs. Just me. It’s not selfish; it’s effective management.”
“Yup.”
“It’s a good life, Trey. I do what I want when I want, I eat what I like, I go where I please. . . .”
“Uh-huh.”
“My life is just the way I want it.”
“Sure.”
“Stop agreeing with me!”
“All right. I disagree.”
A brimming silence passed between us. “What part do you disagree with?”
“Oh, you know. The great-life, just-the-way-I-want-it part.”
“You don’t think my life is good?”
“I don’t think your life is as good as you think it is. There’s a difference.”
I let his words sink in, tasting them like one of his exotic concoctions before voicing my reaction. “So you think I should go ahead with it.”
“I think you shouldn’t let your ‘perfect life’ stand in the way of something meaningful.”
“But Trey—”
“I know, Shell.”
“She’s his. His, Trey.”
“And for reasons I won’t even try to understand, he wanted her to be yours.”
“I’d rather inherit his watch. Seriously. I really liked his watch. You know, the gold one with the filigree and the chain and—”
“Yeah, Shelby. I know the watch.”
“They need my answer soon. So they can look for other options if I don’t take her.”
“How soon?”
“A week or two. I might be able to buy more time if I bribe Dana with some of your esclep di pol . . .”
He smiled. “I hate it when you try to speak French.”
“I love that you hate it.”
“Do it, Shell. What do you have to lose?”
His question dumbfounded me. “Uh . . . let me see now.” I made an I’m-calculating face. “Yup. Just as I thought. Everything. I’ve got everything to lose.”
“Okay, so think about how much you have to gain.”
“Like what? How can I possibly know if there’s anything to gain from any of this?”
“You can’t. Not until you dive in.”
“This is me, Trey. I’m not good at diving. And certainly not at diving blind.”
“Look on the bright side. You’ve lost five pounds in two weeks. Shayla might be the best diet plan you’ve ever attempted.”
“But what if she becomes just the latest one I’ve failed?”
“And this,” Gus said, “is Lady Shayla’s bedroom.” He rolled her suitcase across the room and turned to us. “It’s little, but it’s cozy. And that bed right there—” he pointed toward the small bed below the room’s sole window—“is the most comfy bed in the whole town of Kandern.”
Bev spoke softly by my side as Shayla and Gus tried out the bedsprings. “I made up both beds for you, so you’re all set for now. There’s no hurry to get the sheets back to me. I’ve stocked your kitchen cupboards with the essentials, and there’s a water kettle and fresh bread on the counter. That should get you through ’til morning.”
So this was home. The past twenty-eight hours of travel and discovery had been a prelude to this. I glanced around the small apartment with the stark white walls and large windows, taking in the hand-me-down furniture and lacy white curtains, and the exhaustion of too much stress descended on me like a lead-filled blanket. I wanted to sleep—desperately so. But I also needed to absorb some of the realness of