language in social situations. The wolves need to know there’s officially no availability there.
I try to shake off the thought, but it’s like a sandbur in a horse’s forelock. Strands are twisted all around it. I can’t imagine changing course now. Everyone, everyone is expecting an announcement soon. The fallout would be…unthinkable. Honeybee and Bitsy would be heartbroken. Socially and politically, I’d look like a flake, a person who can’t make up her mind, who doesn’t know her own heart.
Am I?
“Avery?” Trent’s eyes narrow, and his head cocks to one side. He’s wondering what I’m thinking.
I can’t possibly tell him. “Your turn.” I don’t trust myself to say anything more, considering the wild track my mind has taken.
“Doesn’t matter now.”
“Not fair. What were you about to say, really?”
He surrenders without too much of a fight. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot that first day. Usually I wouldn’t talk to a customer that way.”
“Well, I wasn’t really a customer, so you’re excused.” He was actually pretty decent about it all, considering how pushy I was. In the end, I’m a Stafford through and through. I tend to assume that I’ll get what I want.
Which, I realize with a shiver, makes me eerily like the adoptive parents who inadvertently funded Georgia Tann’s business. No doubt some were well-meaning people and some of the children really did need homes, but others, especially those who knew that exorbitant fees were being forked over for made-to-order sons and daughters, must have had some idea of what was happening. They just assumed that money, power, and social position gave them the right.
Guilt stains this realization of mine. I think of all the privileges I’ve been given, including a Senate seat practically prepackaged for me.
Do I have a right to any of this, just because of the family I come from?
Trent’s hands tuck awkwardly back into his pockets. He glances at his car, then turns my way again. “Don’t be a stranger. Look me up next time you’re on Edisto.”
The idea strikes me like the sound of the bugle going off at the beginning of a cross-country hunt, when the horse’s muscles tense and I know that if I just loosen the reins, all that potential energy will be unleashed in one direction. “I’d really love to know what else you discover about your grandfather’s family…if you find anything, I mean. No pressure, though. I don’t want to be nosy.”
“Why stop now?”
I cough, pretending to be offended, but we both know it’s the truth. “It’s the lawyer in me. Sorry.”
“You must be a good lawyer.”
“I try to be.” I swell with the sense of pride that comes from having someone else affirm an accomplishment I care about. One I worked for myself. “I like to see things set right.”
“It shows.”
A car pulls up into a nearby parking space. The intrusion reminds both of us that we can’t stand here forever.
Trent takes a last look at the nursing home. “It sounds as if she’s lived quite a life.”
“Yes, it does.” It stings to imagine May, my grandmother’s friend, languishing in this place day after day. No visitors. No one to talk to. Grandkids living far away in a complex blended-family situation. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just a reality. I’ll definitely get in touch with Andrew Moore at the PAC and see if he can suggest any organizations that could help her.
A horn sounds on the street, and nearby a car door closes. The world is still moving, and Trent and I should too.
His chest heaves outward and then relaxes. His breath grazes my ear as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “Thanks, Avery. I’m glad I know the truth.”
His face lingers against mine. I smell salt air, and baby shampoo, and a hint of pluff mud. Or maybe I’m only imagining it.
“Me too.”
“Don’t be a stranger,” he says again.
“I won’t.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a woman coming up the sidewalk. White blouse, pumps, black skirt. Her rapid-fire steps feel unwelcome, out of keeping with the day. Heat boils into my cheeks, and I jerk away from Trent so quickly, he gives me a confused look.
Leslie has tracked me down. I should’ve known better than to ask Ian to check on May’s condition for me. Leslie’s chin recedes into her neck as she regards Trent and me. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. Actually, I don’t have to imagine it. I can see what she’s