Her Shadows His Secrets Page 4

  “Grandpa must have loved windows,” I whisper, walking through to the attached closet. Flipping on the light, I’m hit with a scent. It’s a cologne and fresh linen smell. For some reason, it brings tears to my eyes, especially as I look at all the clothes and shoes surrounding me. All this time, I had someone. Someone out there who I could have called family. A solace I could have leaned on when everything was dark.

  And believe me, everything was dark, often.

  I had no one and nothing, while there was a man here who could have loved and accepted me. That’s when it happens. I sink to the ground and sob in the middle of a stranger’s closet. Feeling pain and loss for someone I never knew, but moreover, what he could have been to me and how I will never have the chance to know. I officially have no one, and that is a reality.

  I cry because of the life I fled from. I hated my life there, wished so often for an escape or alternate reality, and now I have it. Here in Cherry Hill. I have it, and yet I can’t pick a side to be on. Happiness or loneliness.

  Suddenly, I’m interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. I wipe frantically at the tears and snot running down my face. Attractive. Standing, I stop to look in the mirror and see it’s useless. Even cleaned up, my face is red and swollen from crying. Oh well, might just be Jack who forgot to give me something.

  Hurrying down the stairs when the bell rings again, I nearly miss the bottom step, catching myself on the front door. Shaking my head, I stand up straight, righting myself, and open the door.

  “You all right? Sounded like something fell!” A woman stands in front of me with two Great Danes who must be Dorothy and Clyde.

  “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just tripped. I’m not very coordinated.” She’s stunning—tall, auburn hair, green eyes, and a figure I would kill for.

  “Oh no. Well, I’m glad you’re all right! I’m Brenda. I live two houses east of here. I was watching the pups while waiting for your arrival.” Her smile is genuine and soft, very welcoming.

  “Thank you so much,” I tell her, and she lifts her brows, still smiling at me. “Oh God, sorry. I’m just having a long day. I’m so rude. Hi, I’m Hanna. It’s nice to meet you.”

  The dogs are sniffing me, their tails wagging rapidly.

  “They like you. They are great guard dogs but also very sweet. You will love them.”

  I stoop down, and immediately they are on me, attacking me with kisses. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” I laugh, trying to save myself, but they’re huge, and I’m outnumbered.

  “Clyde, Dorothy, come on. Give your new mama a break.” Brenda helps me up, and once I’m free and back to my full height, I give her a thankful smile. These dogs are anything but pups. They must be nearly my height when they stand on their hind legs.

  However, no complaints here. I know I’m a long way from New York, and that is now in the past; I’m in a new place, in the middle of farmland, and alone. They might bring me some peace and make me less afraid of the things that go bump in the night.

  “Thank you. I’ve never had dogs. They may be more of an undertaking than this house.”

  “They seem it, but I promise they are the sweetest yet fiercely protective. I passed a pedestrian on my way here, and they nearly chased him to the other side of the road.” We share a laugh.

  “Good to know. Um, I’m not sure if there is anything here to drink. Would you like to come in?” I don’t usually socialize like this, but it’s the least I can do, and wouldn’t it be nice to know at least one person besides Jack?

  “I would love to, but I gotta work in the next thirty minutes, and my car is in the shop, so these feet are my ride. But how about I bring you some groceries after work? That way you can get settled, and then this week, I can give you the juicy details of the town and everything you need to know in Cherry Hill.” She winks.

  Smiling, I tuck my dirty-blonde hair behind my ear. “I couldn’t ask you to buy me groceries. I have to find a bank and set up all my finances here, so I don’t have any cash on me.”

  Waving me off, she scoffs, turning to head down the front porch steps. “Please, I don’t need your money. Consider it a welcome gift. Where you from anyway?”

  “Oh, uh, New York.”

  “Oh yeah? You’re a long way from the city, babe. Get used to favors, small acts of kindness, and an ungodly number of pies. The people here are way different than those city types. See ya tonight!” And like that, she jaunts off down the paved driveway and back onto the road toward town.

  “Well, okay then.” Shutting the door, I turn, and I’m met with two sweet sets of puppy dog eyes and wagging tails. “Dorothy, Clyde, what do we do now?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  HANNA

  When I had a minute to really sit down and collect my thoughts, which didn’t get collected or even the slightest bit unraveled, I decided to make work of the closet upstairs. Taking the small amount of clothes I brought with me, I fit them onto a rail, taking up nearly no space at all. Could I clean out the closet? Yes. Am I ready or feel like it’s right? Absolutely not.

  I just got here, and I can’t tell my head from my ass. So taking on that type of project just seems… futile. Another day, another time. But looking at my clothes in the closet, I feel it’s more noticeably pitiful, given the house it’s in. That’s like rags sitting in riches, literally. Does this town even have a place to shop for clothes?

  Money—the next point nagging my brain. I have loads of money now. More than I care to admit. Spending it, knowing it’s mine, seems daunting. Just because I didn’t know the man, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad or as if I’m using him. Is that my intention, no. But come on. That’s madness, sick almost.

  “Hey, Grandpa I knew nothing about, thanks for the millions. Sorry ’bout your death. I’m going to spend all your money now and live in your home and act as if this is all just another day!”

  Crazy. I’m officially insane. I’m talking to myself, and the audience that watches me is just as much on the crazy train as I am, as Dorothy and Clyde stare at me, not judging me, just… staring.

  Releasing a sigh, I pat their heads again and pull down some distressed jeans and a black off-the-shoulder Def Leppard tee I found at a thrift shop, then take my long hair and throw it up in a loose, low-hanging bun. Setting the clothes on the bathroom counter, I then start up the bath and moving back to the sink. I open the drawers and cabinets, looking for some sort of bath salts, bubbles, or even just some body wash.

  The fourth drawer is the winner. I find some scented bath salts and dump them into the rising water. The aroma fills the bathroom, and I sink into the hot water, blowing out a deep breath. I release as much off my shoulders as I can, almost dissociating, which is something I’m good at. Seeing as I grew up in foster homes, making temporary connections in which I had to sever more often than I wish I ever had to do.

  The troubles of my life just seem to fade, like the heat of the water as it grows cold after an hour. Finally, I will myself out and get dressed, preparing for Brenda to return.

  The doorbell rings, and the dogs start barking, running to the door with wagging tails. I see Brenda with some bags in her hands and a giant smile. Opening the door, I greet her, “Hey! Welcome back,” moving aside to invite her in. I take some of the bags from her hands, and we make our way into the kitchen.

  “I’ll never get over how beautiful this house is. My mother and JD really made this place something special.”

  “Your mother?” I question, placing the bags on the kitchen counter next to the fridge.

  “Oh yeah, sorry. My mom, Kerrin, she’s an interior designer. She helped your grandfather design this place.”

  There it is. I knew he had to have some help; this place is literally flawless. “That makes sense. I mean, I didn’t know JD, but I couldn’t believe he’d do all this alone.”

  She nods, and the smile that seems to never really leave her face widens just a bit more. “Yeah, he had expensive taste but terrible execution, so insert my mother. And hey, we don’t have to talk about him if it’s too much. I can only imagine all you are processing after losing a loved one.”

  I swallow thickly, past the lump that has formed in my throat with that statement.

  “Oh, um… I don’t know how much you know, but I never met JD. I wasn’t even aware I still had any living family.” That makes her smile finally leave her face, and I hate the pity.

  “Oh, Hanna. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I can go. I don’t want to overwhelm you, and I basically just shoved my own foot in my mouth.”

  “No, no. Please. I don’t expect you to know a stranger’s whole life story. It’s no big deal.” I pause, shocked that I’m about to admit this aloud, as it is very unlike me. “Besides, I could use the company. Today really has been a lot.”

  Her features soften, and she reaches out, placing her hand on my forearm. “Listen, I may be a stranger, but I don’t have to be. I’m here to be a friend and get to know you, and in time, if you feel like you wanna talk about it, you so can.”

  “Thank you.” I give her a nod, my tongue clicking as I shift the conversation. “I will be going to the bank tomorrow, and I really insist you let me pay you back for all this.” I wave my hand over the bags of food we begin to unpack.

  “Not a chance. I told you it’s a welcome gift.”

  Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Fine, at least let me order us some pizza tonight.” I have a credit card with a little room on it; it’s the least I can do for her kindness.

  “I won’t say no, and check it out! There are still some beers in the fridge,” she says, and I turn with my hands filled with items and smile. Sure enough, there are some beers left in the fridge. “Oh, and some nasty molded leftovers. Those need to go.”

  “Ew.”


  She pulls out some glassware with moldy food that looks like lasagna—or what used to be. “Yeah.” Moving to the trash, she dumps it out. “Remind me to take that out before I leave tonight.” We both laugh.

  “For sure. Now, pizza joint recommendations?”

  “Yes! The only pizza shop we have in town, Mama Zeppa’s.” She pulls out her cell and makes work of typing something. “Here’s the number. I’m simple; pepperoni is my favorite. But they have some really good ones. I know New York is famous for pizza, so I bet you have better taste than me.”

  “No, pep is good. A personal favorite of mine as well.”

  “Look at that, already one thing in common.” Winking, she pops the tops on two beers.

  Placing an order and finishing up putting away the groceries, we finally make it into the living room with beers in hand.

  “So what do you plan to do now that you’re here?” Brenda asks.

  Debating, I quickly think over if I want to tell her everything. Sure, she has shown me kindness and seems like she would be able to handle the story, but is it too much?

  “Hey, you can talk to me. I promise I’m a great listener. My parents and brother can attest to that.” She laughs, and I return it with a sheepish smile.

  “Well, I think I need to just figure out as much as I can about JD. Find myself a little bit in the process,” I mumble off the last part.

  “You really didn’t know about him at all?” Her brows furrow.

  “No. I mean, I knew there had to be grandparents at some point, but whether they knew of me or if they were still alive was the question.”

  “Your parents never kept you in contact with him?”

  I scoff, messing with the neck of the beer bottle. “They didn’t even keep me in contact with them. I was a foster kid.”

  “Holy hell, Hanna.” It isn’t a shocked response; no, it’s filled with empathy.

  “Yeah. My parents didn’t really want to be parents. Dumped me in the state’s hands and skipped town.”

  “Grade-A parenting there,” she mocks, and this actually makes me chuckle a bit.

  “The best.”

  “So, clearly, JD knew of you. How come he didn’t make himself known to you?”

  I shrug. “You and I are wondering the same thing.” I take a swig of my beer. “I think that’s been the hardest pill to swallow with this whole thing. Not the house or inheritance but the why. Why did he never come to me when he knew I was out there this entire time?”

  “I wish I had those answers for you.” I can tell she wants to ask something, but she hesitates.

  “What? You can ask me.”

  “Well…” Readjusting herself, she sits on her feet, tucking them under her. “Do you know where your parents are? Can you ask them?” Okay, maybe I don’t need to be so willing to just take questions about my life. That one hurt me more than I anticipated it would.

  “No, I don’t. I could probably pay to find them with the inheritance, but I would really have to think about what would come with all that.”

  “That’s true.” Pausing, she looks around the room. “Listen, this is heavy. I don’t want to overwhelm you more, so let’s talk about something else. The rest can come when you’re ready.” Brenda isn’t dumb. It’s obvious she picked up on my internal reaction to her last questions.

  “Ditto. So what about you? Who is Brenda?”

  “Well, I’m five ten, and I like to— just kidding. What do you want to know?”

  “You said you have a brother? Younger? Older?”

  “Older. And he never lets me forget it. Super overbearing and protective, more so than our own father. But what’s new. Isn’t that what all big brothers do?”

  “So I hear.” I chuckle. “His name?”

  “Oh shit, yeah, his name is Theo. He actually lives in New York too. He works in tech.”

  “No way! Small world. Where in New York?”

  “Brooklyn.”

  “Seriously? I don’t know a Theo, but that’s not far from me. Doubt we’ve crossed paths though, as there are basically a hundred people per square foot.” We laugh in unison.

  “True. Yeah, he hated it here, did damn near anything to get out of this town. We never pinned him for a tech guy, but I guess he found his calling.” She shrugs.

  “Hey, we all have hidden talents. And your parents? Your mom is an interior designer. Dad?” I leave this very open-ended. Given my history, I know never to assume that everyone has a whole home, and nothing is more awkward than having to take your own foot out of your mouth.

  “Dad is the owner of the car dealership in town. They have been married for thirty years, high school sweethearts. Adorable. But really almost all couples in this town are high school sweethearts—small town rite of passage.”

  “Yikes. So you must have someone then?”

  Her face drops. “I did. I thought he was going to be the one. But alas, he wasn’t.”

  “Was he an idiot? You’re like… the perfect catch.”

  “He had a whole-ass family. So yes, an idiot—complete fucking moron.” She takes a swig. Before she continues, the doorbell rings, and I stand to go get the pizza.

  “Hold that thought. We are definitely going to talk about that. I mean, if you want!” I holler over my shoulder as I make it to the door. Opening it, I grab the food left on the bench on the front porch and move to the kitchen. Thank God for the glass cabinet doors or I wouldn’t know where the plates are without having to hunt.

  “One piece?” I call out.

  “Two and some of the cheesy bread!”

  I match her portion and head back in, another round of beers under my arm as well. “Okay, can’t leave me on a cliffhanger. What happened? How?”

  “We met in Charleston; it’s about an hour away. I was there for a girls’ weekend, and we hit it off. Exchanged numbers, spent weeks texting, FaceTiming when we could, and then he came to visit when work let him. This was about six months of truly falling, and I mean falling hard.

  “Then one day at work, I was minding my business, and a woman approached me—his fucking wife. She was livid, showed me pictures of them with their children and told me to stay away.”

  I can only imagine. That’s awful. “Oh shit. I’m sorry; that’s brutal. So you just stopped talking to him?”

  She chews her pizza, swallows it, then responds, “Yes, but I gave him a piece of my mind. I told him he was garbage, that I hope his dick falls off, and to never call me again.”

  I grimace. “I agree. I hope his penis falls off too.”

  “He keeps calling, but I ignored him, and when I blocked his call, he just called me from another number.”

  “That’s a bit much. When did this all happen?”

  Laughing around her next bite, she answers, “It’s been seven days exactly.” She looks down, sadness trying not to take over her face, but I see it crack through a bit. “Not like I’m counting or anything.” Her tone changes, and she laughs it off. I debate asking her about the obvious heartbreak she’s wearing in her heart but decide we aren’t there yet, and from what I can tell of her so far, she wouldn’t be much of an overshare type of person.

  “Seriously? So this is fresh. I’m sorry.”

  Waving me off, she shrugs. “It’s okay; it doesn’t hurt yet. I’m too mad. I’m sure when that all wears off, I will show up here with beer, ice cream, and a PowerPoint of how I want to destroy his car.”

  I like her. Brenda is a breath of fresh air, one I hope to continue to get to know. Moving around all the time, and eventually becoming a recluse, I never really made friends. “I’m down. Listen, thank you so much for tonight. I needed a reprieve, and you’re really kind.”

  She reaches over and gently pats my arm. “Anytime, girl. I’m excited to have you here. How about next weekend, you come out with me and my girls? We are just going to Dean’s Bar and Grill. They have live music and beer. Come hang out?”

  I hesitate for a moment. Crowds? More people? Socializing?

  New life, Hanna. A chance to reinvent yourself, I repeat the mantra I declared earlier.

  “Okay, but I need to get some new clothes. Is there anything in town?”

  “Yes! We can go shopping Friday. I can actually drive us to Charleston. It’s an hour away, but they have the best shopping mall.”