library that would allow me to avail myself of their internet access without a cavity search, I was quickly able to come up with an idea of where my mother might be. And I was closer to her than I thought.
If it was, in fact, my mother that I had found, then she was going by her maiden name, Reilly, rather than Porter and she hadn’t moved from the town of my birth. It would take me about two hours to travel the distance from my current location to where she lived in Mansfield, Ohio.
Ready to get some answers, I got right on the interstate and headed southwest. As the highway miles sped by, I was plagued by doubts about whether or not I was doing the right thing. I mean, my father had gone to great lengths to make sure that my mother never found me. And obviously she hadn’t been very much help to my sister (as evidenced by the statement in her letter that Grey was already gone…to wherever). Plus, if Derek was right and someone made a deal, it made the most sense that the dealmaker was my mother. Was she really the person that I wanted to seek out for help?
I was getting off the exit in Mansfield before I could change my mind. I probably wouldn’t have turned back anyway. The fact was, I needed some help and she might be able to give it. End of story.
I had no trouble finding Maple Street. It had a wide median with trees planted all along its length, maples I assumed. When I reached the three hundred block, I slowed to look for number 306. When I found it, I parked across the street and cut the engine. The house looked nothing like the kind of place where a ruthless, wheeling-and-dealing person would make their home.
It was adorable. Small and white, the structure looked like a dollhouse with its decorative gables and cozy front porch. The front door was green, as were the winter-empty flowerboxes. With its white picket fence, all it needed was smoke rising from the chimney and apple pies cooling on the window sills to fulfill the perfect cliché.
I watched it for well over an hour, debating my next move. I mean, if I went to the door, what would I say? “Hi, I’m your daughter, one of the two that you traded for a new car or a bigger house. Where can I find my sister?”
Fate took that awkward conversation right off the table, however, when the front door opened and a woman emerged. Her hair was much shorter than in our pictures, but I’d have recognized her anywhere. My mother had aged beautifully, changing very little other than the length of her hair.
I slid down in the driver’s seat and watched as she walked down the sidewalk, through the little white picket gate, and got into a black Volkswagen parked at the curb. When she started the car and drove off, I started my own engine and followed her.
She parked in front of a brick building that had the old world appeal of a whole-in-the-wall rare book store. It even boasted an old, yellowed sign declaring it was FIRST EDITION. In smaller letters beneath that was JANINE REILLY, OWNER.
I watched discreetly as she walked to the front door and unlocked it, disappearing inside. Though she kept strange hours, it appeared that my mother was the owner of a small bookstore, a fact that didn’t really surprise me, what with the names she’d chosen for me and my sister.
I watched as she opened the store up, turning on the soft overhead lights, raising the gate that covered the large picture window and shuffling back and forth busily behind the cash register.
Since discovering that my mother was alive, I hadn’t really had the chance to fantasize much about her, what she looked like, where she worked, where she lived. But somehow, this didn’t fit. Somehow I expected her to be more…ruthless, I guess. I mean, if she was the person behind my current predicament then she’d have to be cunning and cruel. Wouldn’t she?
A few customers came in early. She smiled and interacted with them, walking them up and down the aisles of books, searching for what they wanted. After she checked them out, she walked them to the door. With my window cracked, I could hear her when the door opened.
“Have a great day and come back soon,” she’d say, her voice