"Just shine like you always do."
Gwenn Davidson has always known she was adopted, but after clearing up her stuff for her first move out of her parent's house, she finds an old blanket gifted to her by her birth mother that triggers an avalanche of...
"The destination is on your left," the robotic voice announced. She was too busy bouncing her legs and biting down on dry patches on her lips.
Ronan placed a warm hand over her shaky one. She looked up at him, eyes wide, as her exhale came out sounding too much like a whimper. Her head was like a feather blown through the world by a fierce wind.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his tone soft. She zeroed in on his fingers colliding with hers. A stitched happy face smirked from his index finger right beside a snake wrapped around his middle finger. She grasped onto his hand with her free one, hoping to steady herself.
But she was right there. Lisa Carter's house stood right next to the pick-up truck. Gwenn would get to meet someone from her family.
"I'll be right beside you," Ronan promised, threading his fingers with hers as if that proved his words true. "Let's do this."
She thought he'd jump out of the truck, ready to walk to the house, but he waited. It took her a moment to realize he waited for her. Mostly because she held a firm grip on his hand.
Gwenn let go of him and went for the door. She counted to ten in her head, distracting her brain from the terrible jumble inside. She slid down onto the jagged pavement, and hugged herself as she met with Ronan on the other side.
The small house stood like it needed a cane. A functioning supporting beam would've been nice on the less than stellar structure. If an earthquake were to shake the earth, that house would cave in on itself within seconds. The front porch, however, brought a sense of homeliness—potted flowers hung from hooks, a lopsided sign welcomed guests, and a wooden rocking chair was occupied by an elderly woman.
"Hello, there," Ronan started, charming as ever. The elderly woman narrowed her eyes at him, specifically at his arms, and stopped her rocking. "We don't know each other, but we're here to ask a few questions regarding Lisa Carter?"
Gwenn blinked when the woman shook her head, staring off into the street. The afternoon sun shone over her wrinkled face, highlighting deep brown eyes and chapped lips.
"What else was my granddaughter involved in?" the woman asked. Her voice was steady though it looked like she was suppressing about a thousand feelings. "What else has she done?"
"I'm sorry, we really don't know your granddaughter," Gwenn spoke up. At that, the woman lifted her sad eyes to meets hers. "My name is Gwenn Davidson." She extended her hand towards the elderly woman, taking the liberty to step forward onto the porch. "I'm trying to find my biological mother. After I took a DNA test, Lisa Carter showed up as a long distant cousin."
The elderly woman studied her as if she waited for her to give up a ruse. When Gwenn didn't confirm whatever she was suspecting, she shook her hand and melted back into her wooden chair. "I'm not even sure what to say."
Ronan stepped in. "I apologize for causing any confusion, but we just wanted to talk to Lisa if it was possible. Any information she may have could be valuable for us."
"That's going to be a problem," the elderly woman said. An unreadable expression crossed her face.
"Why?" Gwenn asked, eyebrows knitting together.
The elderly woman set her mouth into a thin line. "Lisa was sent to prison five years ago, and she won't be coming out anytime soon."
GWENN SAT WAY TOO close to Ronan on Mrs. Pedley's couch. The elderly woman waddled to her kitchen, fetching both glasses of water because they apparently looked too flushed. The limited space wasn't helping the situation either. Her thigh was pressed against Ronan's, and she didn't have any room to shift away.
The quaint living room appeared just as unkempt as the front porch. Faded and outdated floral wallpaper marred the walls, edges unglued from the wooden surface underneath. A myriad of photos hung at every corner, showing a smiling tiny family in various backgrounds. Beige tiles spread across the space, some cracked and uneven. The furniture was old, even torn at corners. Maintenance wasn't a thing in the Pedley house.
Mrs. Pedley came back out with two tall glasses filled to the brim with icy water. Gwenn accepted one, using it as an excuse to unstick herself from Ronan's side.
"I really wish I could help you more," Mrs. Pedley said, sitting down on the opposite love seat. An old coffee table divided them. Ronan took a sip of his water and leaned forward to place the glass over the wooden surface before them.
"It's not a problem," Ronan said. The way his voice came out sounded like a warm caress. Gwenn swallowed a gulp of water. "We figured we'd give it a try anyway. Do you by any chance remember anything about Lisa's father? I'm assuming that's the tie Gwenn has with Lisa."
Mrs. Pedley had a hard time concentrating on Ronan's face. Her small eyes darted around his arms while he spoke, entranced by the amount of ink on his skin. Or maybe it wasn't entrancement. Her rigid form showed her inward struggle. Every few seconds, she'd relax against his stare before hardening once again.
"I remember him alright," she spat. Her face contorted like she tasted something too sour, too gross. "My Judith—may she rest in peace—fell for his trap. Got her pregnant and then ran. We never saw him again." Her thin eyebrows furrowed. "Which was for the best. If that man had the balls to step foot into my property, there's no telling what I would've done." Those eyes filled with long lived years flashed.
"Where did he go?" Gwenn asked.
Mrs. Pedley relaxed her shoulders, leaning back against her seat. The fan beside her blew hot air onto her head, messing up her white hair. Ronan reached over for another sip of water. The immense California heat proved fierce in the small town of Las Alas, and the current interrogation wasn't helping.
"Last I heard, the entire family made a move to Arizona from Texas," Mrs. Pedley answered. A shadow crossed her features like the topic bothered her. She ran her fingers over her hair as if to flatten it. "But that was over thirty years ago."
An uncomfortable ache settled inside her chest as Gwenn finished the last of the water. Her fingers trembled as she set it down on the table.
Did she have family in Arizona?
"What was his name?" Ronan asked.
Mrs. Pedley caught his gaze. "Eric. Eric Carter."
Ronan slapped his thighs softly, then turned to Gwenn. "Well, we thank you so much for your hospitality, Mrs. Pedley," he said, tearing his eyes back to the front. "This was very helpful."
He grabbed onto Gwenn's hand, pulling her up beside him. Mrs. Pedley eyed the two before making to stand, using the armrest to push her old body up.
"I hope you find what you're looking for, girl," Mrs. Pedley said. "Remember to keep an open mind."
Gwenn smiled in thanks as Ronan ushered her out of the house. Mrs. Pedley followed them out, wiping the sweat accumulated at her forehead. She wanted to say something else to the elderly woman as she leaned against the balcony. Gwenn feared the structure would give in, but nothing happened.
As she sat back inside the pick-up truck, she folded her hands over her lap, biting down on her lip. Ronan turned the truck on, which sputtered into the late afternoon day. They drove away from the small neighborhood, letting the GPS drone on about the directions they had to take.
All the while Gwenn had one question swirling through her mind: was she born in Arizona?
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