“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
The sentence lodged inside him.
He did not understand it.
Not yet.
The sun was dropping lower.
He looked again at the house.
“Why here?”
“My grandmother was born in Hico.”
Dela glanced toward the road.
“Nobody here knew me as the girl who robbed the Callahans.”
Her mouth tightened.
“I sew.”
“I make school uniforms.”
“I take alterations.”
“I don’t lack anything.”
Wade looked at the house.
“You lack plenty.”
“No.”
She held his eyes.
“You’re the one who lacks.”
He flinched.
“I’ve got what matters.”
As if the words had called him, a child’s voice sounded down the dirt road.
“Mom!”
Wade turned.
A boy came running toward the house.
Backpack bouncing.
Dust on his knees.
Dark hair.
Dela stood too quickly.
The boy threw both arms around her waist.
“Mom, I’m home.”
Then he noticed Wade.
He stepped back.
Looked up.
And something inside Wade stopped.
The boy had enormous honey-brown eyes.
His eyes.
The left eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the right when he was curious.
Wade had seen that expression on his father’s face.
On his own.
Every morning in the mirror.
Dela’s voice tightened.
“Eli, say hello.”
The boy obeyed immediately.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
He held out his hand like a small businessman.
Wade stared at it.
Then took it.
Warm.
Dusty.
Small.
His fingers trembled.
“How old are you, Eli?”
“Six.”
The boy corrected himself proudly.
“Six and a half.”
Seven years since the divorce.
Wade slowly looked at Dela.
She had gone pale.
“Where’s your dad, buddy?”
“Wade.”
Dela stood.
“That’s enough.”
But Eli had already smiled.
“My mom says my dad lives in a really tall building in the city.”
Dela picked up the tray.
“And someday he’s going to come.”
The tray slipped from her hands.
Glass shattered against the dirt.
One kolache rolled near Wade’s shoe.
The chipped white mug landed on its side and, by some strange mercy, did not break.
Dela covered her mouth.
Tears appeared instantly.
Wade looked at Eli.
Then the mug.
Then Dela.
From inside the house, the mysterious cough came again.
Closer.
Wade bent and picked up the mug.
His hands would not stop shaking.
Dela sent Eli inside to wash.
At the screen door, the boy turned.
“Are you coming back, mister?”
Wade could barely speak.
“I’ve got a rooster named Captain.”
Eli grinned.
“Can I show him to you?”
“You bet, champ.”
Wade’s voice cracked.
“I’ll come back.”
When Eli disappeared, Wade stepped toward Dela.
“Tell me the truth.”
She looked at him.
“Is he mine?”
Her face tightened.
“Not today.”
“Dela.”
“Please.”
She took the chipped mug from his hands.
Held it against her chest.
“Go.”
Clancy emerged from the house.
His cap was in both hands.
“She’s lying down.”
Dela immediately looked toward him.
“Good.”
“Pill’s in her.”
“Resting easy.”
Wade stared.
“Who?”
Nobody answered.
“Who lives with you?”
Dela’s jaw set.
“A woman I take care of.”
“Who?”
“None of your business.”
She picked up the legal papers.
“I’m keeping these.”
Wade frowned.
“I need—”
“Seven years ago, I signed something without reading it.”
Her eyes hardened.
“It cost me my whole life.”
She held the folder tightly.
“That isn’t happening again.”
Wade drove away.
But he did not return to Dallas.
He checked into the old hotel in town.
His phone began ringing before he reached the room.
Kendall Vance.
His fiancée.
“Did the seamstress sign?”
Wade stared at the wall.
“Her name is Dela.”
A pause.
“What?”
“Dela.”
“Fine. Did she sign?”
“Not yet.”
Kendall sighed.
“My father has investors waiting.”
“She needs time.”
“Offer her more.”
Wade said nothing.
“People like that always have a price.”
He felt his stomach turn.
“People like that?”
“Don’t start.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Dinner with my parents is tomorrow night.”
“I know.”
“Don’t miss it.”
Five minutes later, Vivian called.
“Where are you?”
“Hico.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“The lake property.”
Vivian inhaled sharply.
“That’s what we pay Preston for.”
“She hasn’t signed.”
“Come home.”
“Why?”
“That woman is a thief.”
The word landed differently now.
Seven years ago, Wade had believed it.
That afternoon, he had watched Dela hold a chipped mug like it was something worth saving.
“Why are you nervous, Viv?”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You sound nervous.”
“I’m looking out for you.”
Her voice softened.
“Oh, and Mom’s doing great in Scottsdale.”
Wade closed his eyes.
He had not seen Margaret in 4 years.
Vivian said his visits upset her.
The dementia had worsened.
She forgot him.
Became agitated.
Doctors supposedly advised less stimulation.
Wade had been busy.
Job sites.
Acquisitions.
Travel.
And if he was honest with himself, relieved.
Relieved not to watch the woman who raised him slowly stop knowing his name.
So he sent flowers.
Sent money.
Twelve thousand dollars every month to the Arizona clinic Vivian managed on Margaret’s behalf.
He told himself that was love.
Vivian continued.
“I need you to sign new power-of-attorney paperwork.”
“For what?”
“So I can keep paying the clinic.”
“Send it later.”
“It’s urgent.”
“Why?”
“Wade.”
“I said later.”
He ended the call.
At 5:00 the next morning, he was driving back down Dela’s dirt road.
He told himself he needed to discuss the documents.
The truth was simpler.
He needed to see the boy again.
Part 2
Dela was already working when Wade reached the gate.
She sat at an old Singer sewing machine near the window, her eyes red from lack of sleep.
School uniforms were piled beside her.
Near the machine sat a small box of pharmacy receipts clipped together with a wooden clothespin.
Every few minutes, she entered figures in a notebook.
Added them.
Sighed.
Started again.
Wade stopped at the gate.
“A page was missing from the contract.”
She looked at him.
Almost smiled.
“You never could lie, Wade.”
“What?”
“Your eyebrow jumps.”
He touched his face before realizing what he was doing.
Dela stood.
A few minutes later, they were sitting on the porch with coffee.
Two mugs.
His was the chipped one.
The sky changed slowly from black to blue.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
The silence felt disturbingly easy.
Like the room above the laundromat.
Like 7 years had disappeared and no one had told their bodies.
Wade glanced toward the receipts.
“Who’s the medicine for?”
Dela’s hands tightened around her cup.
“Somebody I love very much.”
“Eli?”
“Thank God, no.”
Her face softened.
“He’s healthy as a horse.”
“The woman inside?”
“Yes.”
“Is it expensive?”
Dela looked down.
“Every month is a fight.”
She ran one finger along the rim of her cup.
“But I get it.”
Wade reached automatically for his wallet.
Dela put her hand over his.
Stopped him.
It was the first time they had touched in 7 years.
Both went still.
“I don’t want your money.”
Her voice was soft.
“I never did.”
She lifted her hand.
“That’s what your family never understood.”
Before Wade could answer, Clancy appeared carrying cedar posts and a roll of barbed wire.
“Neighbors’ heifers knocked the back fence down again.”
Wade stood.
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