“No.” He didn’t have family. Period. In the state or out.
“Just passin’ through then?”
He was glad when they arrived at a bedroom and her questions stopped. She opened the door to his worst Victorian-inspired nightmare.
“Tea will be in an hour. I’ve made my signature sour cherry coffee cake.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
She patted his arm. “That’s okay, dear. Come down anyway. It’ll give us a chance for a nice chat—”
“I think I’ll just crash. It’s been a long day.” True, but he wasn’t the least bit tired.
She patted his arm again. “Well, don’t you worry. I’ll make sure to save you a piece of my coffee cake. You haven’t tasted anything until you’ve tasted Lovie’s sour cherry. Now, go on there and crawl into bed. I’ve sprinkled the sheets with lavender so you’ll sleep like a baby.” With assurances that he had everything he needed and one final pat to his arm, Lovie made her way out of the room and closed the door.
He stared at the lace-canopied bed with its lavender-sprinkled sheets and made a distinct detour to the chair by the window. With a conscious effort, he kept his eyes averted from the dark sky. Once, that wide-open blue had been his haven, the only place he belonged. Now, every time he looked at it, all he saw was his failure.
Setting his duffel bag on the floor, he retrieved his cell phone and turned it on. A few moments later, surprised to find he had service, he punched in the long-distance number from memory.
“Fitzgerald Realty.”
“Eric, please.”
“Just a moment.”
There was a slight pause. “Hello?”
“Eric? Jared Worth.”
“I’m glad you called; you’re a hard man to get ahold of.”
“What’s the news?”
“Good.”
“Tell me.”
“I just got off the phone with the interpreter, and I’m happy to report that everything is a go on my end. By this time next week, Mr. Worth, you’ll be sitting on your own private beach in Mexico.”
With a sigh, Jared leaned back and propped his foot on a flowered footstool. “Perfect.”
“The only detail left is for you to wire my office the funds so I can complete the sale.”
Jared stared out the window, noticing for the first time he had a decent view of the lake. “No problem. You should have them by the end of the week at the latest.”
“Excellent. Excellent. It’s a one-of-a-kind piece of property, Mr. Worth, exactly what you wanted—which was no easy feat to find. We were lucky. Your own isolated bit of Mexican paradise. It’s so remote, no one could find you, even if they knew where to look.”
The realtor chuckled, never realizing how close to the truth he was. It was exactly what Jared wanted. To disappear to a place where no one would bother him. “How quickly can we close the deal?”
“Once I’ve received your wire transfer . . . two days. Three at the most. Why don’t you give me a call after you’ve wired the money? I’ll have a more accurate time frame for you then.”
“I’ll do that. And thanks.” Jared ended the call. A tension he didn’t realize he’d been carrying left him. By tomorrow afternoon, after he collected his money, he’d be on his way to a place where the sun was warm, the tequila was cheap, and no one knew how badly he’d fucked up.
The next morning, Jared was out of the house before anyone else was up. He left his money on the hall table, which had been set up as a makeshift desk complete with pink envelopes that reeked of perfume. The envelopes smelled as bad as his sheets. If he’d been in a sleeping frame of mind, he might have cared.
Instead, he’d spent the night in the chair by the open window. The fresh air was welcome but not the noise. Even in a town this small, the daily grind of people going about their business was more than he cared to hear. He’d tried shutting the window, but that only amplified Mrs. Murphy and the other guests visiting on the floor below him.
Twenty plus years ago, when he’d been nothing more than a kid, he’d have gone downstairs, eaten cake and drunk tea, even though he couldn’t stand the stuff, and tried to fit in. It had taken him too many years to learn something he should have known from the moment his mother left him: he’d never fit. Not with his mother, not at the orphanage, and