Rason & Eliza - Cee Bowerman Page 0,2

backdoor in Vietnamese, “Dinner is ready. Come clean your hands.”

“I’ve been looking forward to her food for days,” I said, while rubbing my stomach as we walked up to the house. “I went to a new Vietnamese restaurant a week ago to get a fix and it was okay, but it didn’t hold a candle to Mom’s food.”

I put one hand on the doorframe to brace myself as I stepped out of my boots and then stepped inside the house, holding the door for Dad while he slipped out of his shoes. Mom had set the kitchen table up with an absolute feast, and the smells were fantastic. My stomach rumbled loudly and Mom reached out and pinched my side as she walked by muttering in Vietnamese. According to what I could hear of her mumbling, she was sure I hadn’t eaten since the last time she’d fed me.

I waited until my parents were seated before I took my place at the table and then took the bowl of rice my mother handed me. Chopsticks in hand, I dove into the spread she’d put on the table. I felt so lucky to spend time with these two, and glad that I had the good sense not to bring any woman over here that couldn’t appreciate them.

“You’re too skinny. Eat!” my mom urged in Vietnamese. “No woman wants a man that’s skin and bones. She’ll want a strong man, like your father.”

Dad smiled over his bowl as he picked up a bite of food. “Yeah, son, you’re wasting away there.”

At 6’3” and 250lbs, I wasn’t even close to skinny and weak, but I knew Mom wouldn’t see it that way.

“Thank you for watching out for me, Mom,” I told her in Vietnamese as I reached for a bite of pork.

“Someone has to, son.”

◆◆◆

ELIZA

“You have a good evening!” I smiled at the customer as I handed him the bag of books he’d just purchased. “Enjoy that Victor Meridian novel. I can’t wait to read it myself!”

“I will.” the man smiled. “I’ll be back next week and we can discuss it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Taylor! And tell your wife I hope she gets to feeling better.”

With a nod, Mr. Taylor walked toward the front of the store. I took that moment to glance around, making a list in my head of what I needed to do to close up. As usual, customers had left stacks of books and magazines on the coffee table in the comfortable sitting area I’d arranged close to the front of the store.

Two women sat down as I was watching, one of them heavily pregnant. The man with them, a gorgeous man with tattoos covering his hands and arms, helped her get seated and then walked toward the counter. I recognized him as a repeat customer and, if I remembered correctly, he’d actually bought some items from me just last week.

“Hi,” he said with a smile. “Can you help me find some books?”

“Of course! Any specific subject?” I asked him as I walked around the counter.

He glanced over and I saw the pregnant woman give him a thumbs up for whatever reason. The other woman was staring at me intently, and I wondered if I had something on my face. I reached up and swiped my hair back that had fallen out of the clip holding it, and discreetly wiped my mouth just in case there was a bit of food left there from the snack I’d eaten earlier.

“I’m looking for books on adoption, long-lost siblings, and finding your family after adoption records are unsealed. Can you help?”

“Odd that you ask.” I remarked as I led him toward a section near the back of the store. “I do know a few books that might help you. I’ve used them myself to try and find my birth parents.”

“How did that work out?”

“Sadly, I still don’t know the identity of my birth father, and my birth mother has already passed away.”

“Siblings?”

“I have no idea,” I shook my head sadly. “And I’m still not sure how to go about looking.”

“I’m Hank,” the man said when I stopped walking. He stuck his hand out and I shook it with a smile, ready to introduce myself when he asked, “Are you Elizabeth?”

“How did you… ?” I asked, confused that he used the name I was given at birth rather than the one my parents had given me when I was adopted. I felt my face pale as he squeezed my hand, and I stared closely into