“Yeah, I’m afraid she does. She’s been told.”
“She must be a total wreck! I want to be there for her right this minute, but I’m at least an hour away,” he shouted again, almost feeling bad about taking his mood out on Axel.
“Just get there,” Axel told him.
“I will!” He hung up and pushed his car up to a hundred miles an hour. If something happened to Misty, it would be all his fault, and he would never forgive himself. Never!
Going as fast as he could in the storm that was brewing from Misty’s direction, he drove frantically down the dark freeway. Every mile he came closer to her, the wind picked up.
The road stretched on endlessly, and forty-five minutes later, his heart thundering, Bryson pulled up to Misty’s house and jumped from his vehicle when it had barely come to a stop. After rushing up the walkway, he hesitated when he reached the door, listening for any sounds.
The power was out and he could see only the flicker of candlelight through the windows. Hearing no sound was more worrisome than if he’d heard something.
The curtain fluttered and he knew someone had peeked out at him. He waited, his body tense. How was she? What was her reaction?
His heart raced as he waited. It had been a week since he’d seen her last, a few days since he’d learned about her family. Then Joseph, it seemed, had decided he’d spent enough time not knowing her, and he wanted to call on her, needed to speak to her. Joseph hadn’t even asked him first; the old man just rushed ahead, interfering — his characteristic modus operandi.
The door opened and Misty stood before him, her face pale, her eyes red from crying. This was worse than he’d thought.
“May I come in?” he asked warily, not sure what Joseph had told her — not sure if he was the last person she’d want to speak to again.
She opened the door wider without saying a word, and he stepped over the threshold, careful not to touch her yet. She looked fragile enough that one single movement might shatter her.
Following behind her as she walked into the kitchen and lit the burner on her stove top, he waited to see what she would say. At least the gas stove worked even during a power failure. It seemed to give her some form of reassurance to be doing something other than staring back at him in the semidarkness.
“This is a nasty storm,” he said, needing to break the silence.
“Yes. I lost power a little over an hour ago. When you pulled up, I’d just gotten the candles all lit so I can see around the house, now that it’s dark outside. Do you want tea? I need tea,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion as she set the kettle on top of the flame.
“Sure. I’ll have a cup.” He didn’t know what to say — this was a first for him. This woman had already been put through so much trauma, and she’d been all alone today when she’d found out the biggest news of her life. Because of him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.”
“You didn’t have to make the trip in this weather.”
The kettle began to whistle and she removed it from the burner, then poured hot water over the tea bags.
“Yes I did.” That was the truth. He’d needed to be with her all week. “I…I’m done trying to stay away.”
She reached into the cupboard and pulled out cookies, then leaned against the counter and, picking up her cup, took a sip of the hot liquid. She seemed so close to breaking apart that he couldn’t keep his distance any longer.
Moving next to her, he lifted a hand, placing it on her shoulder. “Tell me what happened.” If she didn’t trust him any longer, she wouldn’t say a word. He held his breath.
“I…I have no one in my life…or, at least, I’ve never had anyone all my life. I don’t…” She tried to gain control over her emotions. “I think you’re the only person in the world I trust, Bryson. I…want to talk to you, but I shouldn’t burden you.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
He lifted his hand from her shoulder and ran his finger along the track that the tear had left, then cupped her cheek in his palm. His insides were twisted in knots as he watched her try to maintain control of herself. He wanted to take her agony away, bear the burden for her. “You can tell me anything, Misty. I want to listen. I want to be there for you.”
“You know I grew up in the foster-care system, that I was bounced around and around and around. The only clue to my identity was one little note that was left with me, the note that said I needed to find my brother. I never followed up on it. What was the point? I’m sure there are millions of Damiens in the world, and I didn’t even know a city for him, or a last name. I knew nothing.” Her voice was clear, almost as if she’d rehearsed her lines.
She most likely had in the time she’d had to think since her visit with Joseph had ended. This is where he should tell her the truth, Bryson thought, tell her of his involvement in all of this. But he couldn’t get the words past his throat. They just wouldn’t come. He was too afraid she’d hate him, make him go away.
“Go on,” he said instead.
“Tonight, when he showed up here, I was so frightened, afraid to answer the doorbell. But I made a promise to not run from anything anymore, so I didn’t just ignore it. I faced it,” she said, a gleam entering in her eyes during the last few words.
He broke in. “You are so strong and brave.”
She went on without acknowledging his praise. “We just stood there facing each other in silence for a moment. I almost asked if Santa was in town. He was the largest man I’ve ever run into, but with the white hair and beard and practically sparkling eyes, I wasn’t afraid. I was just in shock.”
Bryson was too tense to say anything as she paused to take a breath.
“He tells me his name is Joseph Anderson, that he’s my…cousin,” she said with disbelief. “He couldn’t be. He’s too old, for one, and how would he know I exist, for two? Or that’s what I thought until he explained it all to me. Apparently his uncle got involved with a much younger woman and then died, estranged from the family. They know my brother — Damien is real,” she said with wonder.
“Are you going to meet your brother?” Bryson now caressed her hair, both to offer comfort and to fulfill his need to touch her.