Page 63 of Sticks and Stones
“You’re Gianna?”
“Yes.”
“You sure are pretty.”
“Thank you.” Gianna tried to imagine what she would look like. She’d been young when Gunnar was born, only nineteen he thought, so she wouldn’t even be sixty yet.
“Where is he?” she whispered. “Where is my boy?”
“Ms. Williams—”
“Call me May.”
“Okay, May. I didn’t call you because Gunnar’s ready to talk to you. I called, well, to see if this number is valid. To see whether you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked, her voice harsher than it had been.
“Gunnar thought maybe you had reached out to him because you were sick.”
“And he still didn’t call, huh? Wow, he must really hate me.”
Gianna didn’t want to pour salt on her wounds, but how would she expect Gunnar to feel? “He’s working through his feelings, but it isn’t easy. I suspect it’s going to take him some time.”
“If he hadn’t kept his own name, I never would have known it was him. I thought all them big singers usually take fake names. Stage names. Why didn’t he do that? I wouldn’t think he’d want any part of me as a reminder of his crappy childhood.”
Gianna was dying to ask what could have possessed her to just leave her son behind, but she knew it wasn’t her place to pick at that sore. It was Gunnar’s. If he chose to. “I guess I just wanted to know how to find you. If Gunnar decides to reach out to you—”
“I wish he would.” She sighed heavily. “I have so much to say to that boy.”
“I’ll tell him,” Gianna said, curling the paper in her hand. “I’ll tell him you want to talk to him.”
“Sounds like you two are still pretty close. Couldn’t you talk him into it?”
“Honestly? I’m trying to help him heal, not hurt him more, so whatever he decides to do, I’ll support him completely.”
“Must be nice,” she muttered. “To have that kind of support.”
“You don’t have anyone?” Gianna asked, trying to ignore the twinge of sympathy she felt. “You never married or had more children?”
“Ha! After the mess I made the first time? You really think I’d do that to some other poor kid? No! No way, honey. No more kids for me.”
“Well, I should go, May. I’ll tell Gunnar we talked. If he wants to call, he has your number.” It suddenly occurred to Gianna she had her number now too, assuming she had call display. “Um, but if he doesn’t want to talk to you, I hope you’ll respect that?”
“I have all along, haven’t I? If I wanted to make things tough for him, I would have. I don’t. I want him to find peace. He deserves that. So if he don’t want to bother with me, I can live with that. Don’t worry, you won’t hear from me again.” She paused. “But, um, can you tell me something for him?”
Gianna wasn’t sure she would, but heard herself say, “Sure.”
“Can you tell him I’m sorry… and that I love him?”
A tear slid down Gianna’s cheek as she promised, “I’ll tell him.”
