Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [87]
He nodded. “I’m fine.”
“So fine that you’re sitting here in the dark at two in the morning?” She ventured closer.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He ignored her question.
“I could ask you the same thing.” She paused at the stove. “I thought I’d make a cup of tea, maybe it would help me sleep. Want one?”
“No, thanks.”
“Yeah, me either.” She came closer.
He watched her cross the room. When she got to his chair, she moved his arm aside and sat on his lap. He couldn’t help but smile.
“So. Want to talk about it?” She poked him gently in the chest.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Start with Ramona.”
“I believe her.” He leaned back away from her.
“And that bothers you because . . . ?” She gestured for him to continue.
“I don’t know.”
Amanda ran her hand over his head, stroking him, as one might a child who needed comforting. He leaned back and closed his eyes, relaxing for the first time in days.
“She was adopted, too. Given away by her—our—mother.”
The clock over the back door ticked softly.
“What would make a woman do that? Give away her children like that?” His eyes were still closed. “Ramona talked about being taken to an office. She described what sounded like a conference room, probably in a lawyers’ office. She said the man there gave her mother something in an envelope and then her mother left.”
“You think she got money from the adoptive parents.”
“Yeah.” His jaw tightened.
His arm drifted to her back and kneaded her shoulder gently.
“Greer said something about having a hole inside and wanting it filled up. I’ve lived with that same emptiness for as long as I can remember. I never knew it could be filled,” he said softly.
“It must have been so hard on you as a little boy. Being separated from Greer.”
“When Ramona said that her mother called the girl in the photograph Sasha, I knew she was legit. Just hearing the name brought it all back. I’d forgotten it, but hearing her say it, I remembered. Remembered being there in my grandmother’s house and being so scared the day they took her in the ambulance. And then people came—strangers—and took my sister and me away. I don’t remember where we went or who was there; I only remember being afraid. And then my sister wasn’t there anymore. And I don’t really remember too much for a while after that. Just a lot of faces and confusion and not knowing what was going on. Nothing specific, you understand, just a feeling of confusion all the time, through that whole time in my life. I didn’t have the words for it then.”
“You were a very frightened little boy. All alone . . .”
“I’m afraid it didn’t bring out the best in me. I wasn’t a very pleasant child.”
“I don’t think anyone could blame you, Sean.”
“But everyone did. And with good reason. I mean, I was a really obnoxious kid. No matter where they placed me, no matter how nice the people tried to be, I wanted no part of anyone. I broke things, got into fights, was overly aggressive, and as I recall, had quite the colorful vocabulary in those days. No one wanted to keep me for very long.” He shook his head, remembering the child he had been. “I made sure of that.”
“How did you manage to stay out of jail?” She continued to stroke his hair.
“God only knows. I wonder sometimes if things might have been different for me if Greer and I had stayed together.”
“She said she had wonderful parents.”
“I’m sure they were. Look at Greer, at the person she is.”
“You really love her, don’t you?” Amanda smiled. “Whether you wanted to or not, you really love her.”
“It’s kind of hard not to. She just sort of wraps herself around you. You saw how she welcomed you here, how she was with Ramona.”
“You’re afraid you’ll have to share Greer with Ramona.”
“Am not.”
Amanda laughed out loud and he laughed with her.
“I just don’t know how to deal with . . .” He struggled for words.
“Having people in your life that you could care about.”
“Yes.”
“Because if you care about them, maybe they’ll leave you.”
“Something like that. Maybe.”
“On the other hand, it could turn out to be very good. Just like knowing Greer