The Right Guy - Liz Lovelock Page 0,1

agony that stabs me through the heart.

“Mom…” I sigh, unable to form the right words, finally all I can manage is. “Thanks,” I don’t know this woman. I have no idea whether she knows the pain I have been through.

“Anyway, if there’s anything you need, please let me know. Also, I’m not sure what food you like. If you can leave me a list of things you might want, I’ll be sure to get them for you from the grocery store.” She steps forward. I’m sure she’s going in for a hug, but then the mask pulls over her eyes, and she quickly shifts back and exits my room, shutting the door with a quiet click on her way out.

A sigh escapes my tight lungs as I collapse onto the double bed covered in a pink blanket. My body feels as though it’s run a marathon, yet I’ve only been in the car. It was a very stale, silent drive with Mom. She tried to make small talk, but I didn’t feel like speaking. Forming a relationship with someone I hardly know is going to take time—and lots of it.

Leaving behind what few friends I had was difficult. People here, in this house and town, are lost memories for me.

There is this one face that’s stuck with me over the years, though. His blue eyes were in my dreams for a long time after I left. Jase… my old best friend.

Three very light knocks at my door drag me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I call. The handle clicks and slowly opens.

Leaning over, I try and see who’s there.

Is it Mom?

A young girl pokes her head around, and I sit, welcoming her with a smile.

“Who are you?” she asks without hesitation.

“I’m Charity. Who are you?” I shuffle on my bed and tap it for her to come and sit with me.

In skips a gorgeous little girl, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. “I’m Grace. Momma told me you’re my big sister. I’ve always wanted to meet you.” She climbs onto my mattress and sits with her legs crossed. Familiar, bright-green eyes like mine, like Mom’s, stare back at me. Sister. Mom told me about her, but seeing her now is surreal. She’s tall, probably comes up to just under my arms, and is wearing the cutest little pink frilly dress with a bow placed perfectly in her hair.

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and bite. I’ve never had a sibling. A small amount of anger bubbles inside me toward my dad. Why did he keep so much from me?

“I am your sister. How old are you?”

Grace wriggles up, sitting tall as though she’s in a classroom. “I’m seven this year,” she says proudly. Her hair is long and dark, like mine, and those questioning eyes burrow a place right into my heart.

“Wow, that’s a good age. How are you liking school?” Oh my goodness, I want to know so much about my sister. I’ve already missed seven years of her life; I don’t want to miss a second more.

Dad never met anyone new—well, no one I knew about. Mostly, I spent my time on my own. Dad never allowed me to have friends over, so I learned quickly that books were my best friends. Every chance I got, I had a new title in hand; of course, they all had to have a happily ever after, simply so I could get the feeling of love. Even if it was just from between the pages of books. Love was something Dad sadly couldn’t give me, so I sought it elsewhere.

She rolls her eyes, and I laugh. “School is okay. I like seeing my friends. I don’t like my teacher, though. She yells a lot, and it’s scary when she does.” She pauses a moment. Her head drops and then bounces back up. “I’m glad you’re here. Mom has always told me I had an older sister that she hoped I would meet one day.”

An overwhelming warmth spreads through my chest. Here I’d thought she’d completely forgotten about me. I was wrong.

“Thank you,” I choke out. “I’m glad I get to meet you as well. I hope we can become good friends.”

Grace slips off my bed and comes to stand in front of me. She doesn’t hold back; instead, she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes. My eyes well up, and a quick tear escapes. She smells like strawberries with a hint of apple. I