Page 62 of Sticks and Stones
He shook his head, recalling all the times he’d picked up the phone, intent on dialing the number, only to set it down again. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“Would you consider letting me call?”
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. Darkness began to surround them, but he still felt too exposed, as though she could read every emotion in his heart on his face. “Eight years is a long time. She’s probably not there anymore. Hell, for all I know, she could be dead by now. Maybe that’s why she was calling, she wanted to try and absolve herself of any guilt—”
“You’re torturing yourself with all these possible scenarios,” Gianna said, tugging on the front of his cotton shirt. “Don’t do that. Just let me call her. Please.”
He battled with himself for a few seconds before he walked to his truck and grabbed his wallet off the dashboard.
Gianna followed him, holding her hand out when he produced the slip of paper. “Shall we go inside?”
“You go inside,” he said, heaving a deep sigh. “I’m not ready to know.”
***
Gianna’s heart broke as she watched Gunnar walk toward the lake. Instead of going inside, she climbed into the truck and studied the faded numbers by the light of her cell phone. She knew this one call could change Gunnar’s life. For better or worse. Did she really have the courage to be the catalyst?
She had to, she realized. She had to be strong for him, to do this for him, because he wasn’t ready to do it for himself. Her hand shook as she dialed the number and waited for someone to answer.
“Hello.” The voice on the other end was raspy, as though she’d spent her life smoking a pack a day or just woke up from a deep sleep.
“Hello, I’m looking for a Ms. Williams.” Gianna knew Gunnar’s father had never been in his life, so he’d taken his mother’s last name.
“Who the hell are you?” the woman croaked. “Well? What do you want? Speak, dammit. Or I’m hanging up.”
“I’m calling about your son.” The silence stretched on so long Gianna was sure she’d lost the call. “Are you—?”
“Gunnar? You’re calling about Gunnar?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He’s not? I mean, is he hurt or…?”
“No, nothing like that.” Now that Gianna had this woman on the phone, this enigma from Gunnar’s past, she wasn’t even sure what to say to her. “Gunnar gave me your number.”
“Where’d he get it?”
“He said you left a message for him a long time ago, when he was performing in Connecticut.”
She sucked in a breath. “He kept it all this time?”
“Apparently he did.”
“Then why didn’t he call me himself?”
“Honestly? He wasn’t ready to talk to you all those years ago and he’s still not sure he’s ready.”
“Then why the hell are you callin’? You’re not some reporter, are you? ’Cause I’m not talkin’ to no reporters about my son.”
“No, ma’am, I’m not a reporter.” How could she describe her relationship with Gunnar? She wasn’t his ex-wife, yet ex-girlfriend didn’t begin to describe their connection. The mother of his children? “I’m, well, I’m the mother of your grandchildren.”
“Grandchildren,” she whispered. “I knew Gunnar had two daughters, but I never thought I had the right to call those beautiful girls my grandchildren.”
Tears filled Gianna’s eyes. Her children had a grandmother they’d never met, and the man she loved had a mother he could barely remember. “You’ve seen pictures of them, then?”
She cleared her throat. “I asked my boss at the diner to teach me how to use the computer just so I could keep track of y’all. Not in a creepy way,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to see pictures from time to time, that’s all.”
“I understand.” As a mother, she couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to be separated from her children, but she had to remind herself this woman had made that choice. She didn’t deserve any sympathy.
