The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [65]
Their conversation was interrupted by a rustle in the bushes, followed by an almost catlike scream. Two raccoons scurried out of the woods, across the lawn. They scampered past the light reflected from the porch, and Denise stood, trying to get a better view. Taylor joined her at the porch railing, peering into the darkness. The raccoons stopped and turned, finally noticing two people on the porch, then continued across the lawn before vanishing from sight.
“They come out almost every night. I think they’re scrounging for food.”
“Probably. Either that or your garbage cans.”
Denise nodded knowingly. “When I first moved here, I thought dogs were the ones who kept digging through them. Then I caught those two in the act one night. At first I didn’t know what they were.”
“You’ve never seen a raccoon before?”
“Of course I have. But not in the middle of the night, not crawling through my garbage, and certainly not on my porch. My apartment in Atlanta didn’t have a real big wildlife problem. Spiders, yes; varmints, no.”
“You’re like that kid’s story about the city mouse that hops on the wrong truck and gets stuck in the country.”
“Believe me, I feel that way sometimes.”
With her hair moving slightly in the breeze, Taylor was struck again by how pretty she was. “So what was your life like? Growing up in Atlanta, I mean?”
“Probably a little bit like yours.”
“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.
She met his eyes, drawing out the words as if they were a revelation. “We were both only children, raised by widowed mothers who grew up in Edenton.”
At her words, Taylor felt something unexpectedly flinch inside. Denise went on.
“You know how it is. You feel a little different because other people have two parents, even if they’re divorced. It’s like you grow up knowing that you’re missing something important that everyone else has, but you don’t know exactly what it is. I remember hearing my friends talking about how their fathers wouldn’t let them stay out late or didn’t like their boyfriends. It used to make me so angry because they didn’t even realize what they had. Do you know what I mean?”
Taylor nodded, realizing with sudden clarity how much they had in common.
“But other than that, my life was pretty typical. I lived with my mom, I went to Catholic schools, shopped with my friends, went to the proms, and worried every time I got a pimple that people wouldn’t like me anymore.”
“You call that typical?”
“It is if you’re a girl.”
“I never worried about things like that.”
She shot him a sidelong glance. “You weren’t raised by my mother.”
“No, but Judy’s mellowed some in her old age. She was a little more stern when I was younger.”
“She said that you were always getting into trouble.”
“And I suppose you were perfect.”
“I tried,” she said playfully.
“But you weren’t?”
“No, but obviously I was better at fooling my mother than you were.”
Taylor chuckled. “That’s good to hear. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s perfection.”
“Especially when it’s someone else, right?”
“Right.”
There was a brief lull in the conversation before Taylor spoke again.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” he said almost tentatively.
“It depends on the question,” she answered, trying not to tense up.
Taylor glanced away, toward the edge of the property again, pretending to look for the raccoons. “Where’s Kyle’s father?” he asked after a moment.
Denise had known it was coming.
“He’s not around. I didn’t really even know him. Kyle wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Does he know about Kyle?”
“I called him when I was pregnant. He told me straight up he didn’t want anything to do with him.”
“Has he ever seen him?”
“No.”
Taylor frowned. “How can he not care about his own child?”
Denise shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Do you ever wish he was around?”
“Oh, heavens, no,” she said quickly. “Not him. I mean, I would have liked Kyle to have a father. But it wouldn’t have been someone like him. Besides, for Kyle to have a father—the right kind, I mean, and not just someone who calls himself that—he’d