You have to see that.”
Cody had spoken exactly what was on his heart, but he wondered if she was replaying his words the way he was. The fact that he liked being with her, or that she was special to him … or how he thought about her. All very true, very nice sentiments … but clearly he wasn’t admitting to anything more than a deep friendship.
She didn’t ask, and he was glad. It was enough that she was convinced about his motives, that he wasn’t here because he felt sorry for her. Cody studied her and realized he wanted to know more about her past, more about what had shaped her into the woman she was today. “Tell me more, Chey, … about you, your life.”
She sighed and took a long sip of her coffee. “It’s not a happy story.”
Cody gave her a crooked smile. “That’s true for a lot of us.”
A depth filled her face and she stared out the coffee shop window for a long time. “My mom left when I was little … four years old. I think you know that part.”
“I do.”
Her eyes found his again, and her smile was tinged with a sorrow that had been there for a long time, a sorrow she was clearly comfortable with. “We didn’t hear from her for a long time. But just before I met Art I got word from a friend of my grandmother’s … my mom’s body was found in a dumpy apartment in downtown Chicago. By then my daddy was already in prison. Life sentence for armed robbery. His third offense.” She let her eyes linger on Cody’s.
He wondered if she knew how strongly he could relate. He would tell her later. For now he didn’t want to interrupt her story.
“In the end it always came down to the drugs. For both of them.” She shrugged one slim shoulder. “I guess I always hoped it was the drugs … and not me. A mama doesn’t leave her little girl unless something’s wrong with her mind.”
“Yes.” Cody felt the familiar heartache well up inside him. “You’re right about that.”
She nodded. “And a daddy doesn’t grab an automatic rifle and hit up a liquor store if something isn’t screaming inside him.” Peace radiated from her. “I always took it as a blessing. That they didn’t choose the single life … the criminal life over loving me. Their addictions just gave them no other way out.”
The admission reached deep into Cody’s soul, touching him to the core. “Wow.” He sat back, amazed. As she told her story he realized he hadn’t shared much of his either. “I haven’t told you about my mom.”
“No.” Cheyenne looked puzzled, like she was surprised she hadn’t thought about the question before. “I guess I assumed she lives in Indianapolis.”
“She does.” Cody didn’t break eye contact with her. “In the women’s prison.” He paused. “Serving time for dealing drugs.”
Surprise quickly turned to sympathy and without hesitating she reached across the table and slowly took his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
She looked at him for a long time, letting her eyes do the talking. “What about your dad?”
“He left when I was little. One or two … my mom can’t remember.” He smiled sadly. “We haven’t heard from him since.”
Cheyenne tightened the hold she had on his hands. There was nothing awkward about the moment. They were simply two broken kids who had grown up without families — without a mom doting over their math homework, or a daddy tucking them in at night. Two hurting people who hadn’t known the magical warmth of Sunday dinners or the smell of turkey cooking in the oven on Thanksgiving Day.
It was why Cody never thought he was good enough for Bailey. His past was so different from hers, so broken in comparison. She deserved someone who could help her carry on the traditions of family and faith she’d been raised with. Cody … well, he wasn’t sure how to do any of it. All of life — every stage from high school till today and long into the future would be him trying to invent what he’d missed out on.
Same as it must’ve been for Cheyenne.
She took another sip of her drink, her eyes distant as if she might be lost in a montage of painful memories. Finally she breathed in slowly, as if she were clearing her mind at the same time. “I decided I needed an addiction too.” The pain lifted some. “When I