When Grace Sings (40 page)

Briley cleared his throat and shifted his leg away from her. “That isn’t necessary. We can wait.”

The girl shrugged, the movement somehow provocative. “The booth is a smaller one, kind of a tight fit for four, so …”

Briley looked at Alexa. She made an it’s-up-to-you face. It would be easier to talk within the private confines of a booth. He stood. “All right then.”

Alexa rose, and Briley gestured her forward, putting her between him and the greeter. Apparently the pushy girl finally got the message, because she stuck her nose in the air and returned to her place behind the greeting table.

A slender young man carrying a pair of menus led them between tables to
the back wall where an empty booth waited. Briley gestured Alexa to the first bench, and he slid onto the second. He couldn’t wait to return to their conversation. It took great self-control to patiently allow the server to share the evening’s special, which was portabella-stuffed tortellini, lightly coated with a rich asiago cheese, tomato, and basil sauce and served with braised steak medallions.

His description complete, he asked, “What can I bring you to drink?”

“Water with lemon, please,” Alexa said.

“The same,” Briley said, even though he preferred a soda.

“And would you care for an appetizer—mozzarella sticks or fried mushrooms?”

Briley looked at Alexa. She shook her head. He turned to the waiter. “No appetizer.”

“All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” The kid scurried off.

He’d never cared much for tortellini—too doughy—but Briley decided to order the special so he wouldn’t have to waste time looking at the menu. He set the plastic-covered parchment aside, propped his elbows on the table, and leaned toward the fat jar flickering with an LED light in the middle of the table. “Okay, you’ve got to explain yourself. Your mom gave up her daughter?” He raised one eyebrow and forced a short chuckle. “Then what are you—an imposter?”

In the muted light of the restaurant, Briley watched Alexa’s face turn pale and then brighten with splashes of red. She aimed her gaze at the menu and chewed the corner of her bottom lip. His curiosity mounted even higher. He reached out to lower the top edge of the menu and capture her gaze.

“Alexa?”

Tears flooded her eyes. “That’s exactly what I am. An imposter.” A strangled sob broke from her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth and fled the table.

“Alexa!” Briley charged after her, nearly plowing down the server who’d returned with two tall glasses of water. He ignored the kid’s startled face and followed Alexa’s escaping form, aware of the curious glances of other patrons observing their progress. He could imagine what they were thinking, and a wry thought formed in the back of his mind
—Sure am glad I’ll never see these people again
—as he caught up to her and took hold of her elbow.

She wriggled. “Let me go, Briley, please?”

He held tight. “No.” A good reporter wouldn’t lose the chance to uncover the whole story. And a good big brother wouldn’t let her run off upset and crying.

A middle-aged man in a three-piece suit bustled over to them. His nametag identified him as the manager. “Is there a problem here?” He dipped down slightly and peered into Alexa’s face. “Is this man accosting you, miss?”

“No, he’s my—” Alexa gulped. “I’m with him. I’m all right.”

The man didn’t look convinced, but he straightened and sent a glance across the restaurant. Briley glanced, too. A dozen faces peered back, some curious, others seemingly amused. The manager turned to the two of them. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take your scuffle elsewhere.”

Briley wouldn’t have used the word
scuffle
to describe their behavior, but he bit back an argument and simply nodded. The manager strode off, his shoulders square. With his departure the patrons apparently decided the show was over, because they returned to their quiet conversations, although a few continued to observe Briley and Alexa from the corners of their eyes.

Briley released Alexa’s arm and leaned down. “Do you want to stay here and eat, or would you rather …”

She hugged herself. “Let’s just go.” Her eyes flew wide. “I left my coat and purse in the booth.”

His jacket was there, too. He aimed her for the front doors. “I’ll get our things. Meet me outside.” Carrying a lady’s coat and purse out of the restaurant couldn’t embarrass him any worse than their theatrics already had. He kept his
gaze averted as he marched to the booth, dropped a couple of dollar bills on the table, and loaded his arms with their belongings. A few titters followed him as he exited, but he pretended he didn’t hear.

Alexa waited right outside the doors, her shoulders hunched against the cold and tears trailing down her cheeks. She offered him a penitent look. “I’m so sorry, Briley.”

She’d run away from him, made a spectacle of him in front of an entire restaurant full of strangers, and stolen the chance for him to enjoy a really good meal. But his heart turned over in compassion anyway. He draped her coat over her trembling frame, then chucked her under the chin. “Aw, it’s okay, little sister.” With his arm across her shoulders, he steered her toward his car. “Tell you what, we’ll find a drive-through, order some greasy cheeseburgers and fries, and have a long talk in the car.”

She looked up at him, her expression uncertain.

“You’ll feel better after you’ve filled your stomach and spilled your worries.” He opened the door for her and gestured for her to get in. “Trust me.”

A wobbly smile curved her lips. “Okay, Briley.”

She eased gracefully into the seat, and he gave the door a slam. He trotted around to the driver’s side, his heart thudding. Whatever she’d meant by her statement, his reporter instincts told him it was big. Really big. His instincts were never wrong. He could hardly wait to hear the story and then share it with Len.

He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. He glanced over to teasingly remind her to buckle up, and his gaze met hers. All thoughts of teasing fled. Her face, still stained by tears, looked at him with complete trust. His stomach lurched.
Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly
 … The line from a children’s poem rose from his memory, and he knew exactly which roles they each played. Could he really treat her so callously, spinning a web around her for his own selfish purposes?

Alexa pulled in a long breath and then let it out slowly. “Thank you for being understanding. And for being willing to listen to me.”

He swallowed. “No problem.”

“I think you’re right. I think I will feel better after I’ve said it all out loud.”

He should tell her to forget it. He should tell her the secret wouldn’t be safe with him. He should—“Then let’s get going so you can feel better as quickly as possible, huh?” He put the car in gear and squealed out of the parking lot, determinedly keeping his gaze away from her sweetly trusting face.

The interior of his car would probably reek of grilled onions and grease for weeks, but it would be worth it. He’d pulled in to the first fast-food joint he encountered, afraid if he waited too long he’d talk himself out of prying information from Alexa.

With burgers, grease-splotched bags of french fries, and sodas balanced in their laps, they sat in the car at the back corner of the dark parking lot next to the trash bins. The dome light served as candle glow. Not exactly the evening he’d planned, but he wouldn’t complain. He was still getting what he’d come for. Because Alexa hadn’t stopped talking since he’d put the car in Park. His ever-present little voice recorder, hiding in the gap between his hip and the console, captured every word of her story about her mother giving up her real baby for adoption and then choosing to raise a baby girl abandoned by a stranger only hours after her birth.

“I didn’t find out until this past summer that Mom isn’t really my mom. But now that I know, I can’t stop wondering who my real mother is. Where she is. Why she left me in that box behind the garage at the unwed mothers’ home in Indiana.”

The pain in Alexa’s voice stabbed Briley. He understood abandonment. He’d never forgotten the day his mom had pulled up to the fire station, opened the door, and said,
“Get out, Briley. Go see the firemen.”
And he’d never seen her again.

He had no desire to reconnect with the woman who’d left him, but clearly Alexa wanted to know the woman who’d given birth to her. “You know, you
could probably find her. There are lots of private investigators who go snooping around, unraveling mysteries.” Len had a half dozen on the payroll at the
Real Scoop
. “It might take some time, and probably cost you a pretty penny, but it could be done.”

Alexa hung her head. “I can’t.”

Recalling her grandmother’s comment about Alexa needing the money his stay would provide, he nodded. “Oh. Money woes, huh?” He wished he were independently wealthy. He’d buy an investigator for her.

“That, and …” She sent him a helpless look. “It would hurt my mom.”

After listening to her tell about the upbringing she’d received, all the things her adoptive mother had done to provide for her without the support of a husband or other family, he really believed the woman would understand Alexa’s desire to find her birth parents. “I think you’re selling her short. She’s been pretty unselfish up ’til now, hasn’t she, always putting you first? Why would now be any different?” Alexa remained quiet, so he added, “Look, lots of adopted kids search for their real parents. Your mom’s probably even considered the possibility that you’d want to look for them someday, and I bet if you told her, she’d—”

“I’m not adopted.”

Briley drew back, surprised by the panic in her tone. “But you just said—”

“I said I was raised by my mom. She found me, and she raised me, but she never adopted me.” The words poured out like a bucketful of water being emptied in one swoosh. “She even told the hospital that I was hers—hers by birth—and put her name on my birth certificate. But it was all a lie. She … she basically stole me. So I can’t look for my real mother. Nobody can know I’m not really Suzanne Zimmerman’s daughter. Mom could get in terrible trouble. Don’t you see?”

He did see. His scalp sizzled with awareness. He’d thought the story would be revealing an illegitimate birth within a Plain community. But this was deeper. Bigger. Much more scandalous. An Old Order woman had not only given birth to an illegitimate child, she’d then taken someone else’s child to
raise as her own. He envisioned the headline:
A Lifetime of Lies—Kidnapping and Deceit in Mennonite Mecca
. He could imagine the buzz.

Alexa reached across the console and caught the sleeve of his jacket. Her fingers pinched down, the grip desperate. “And you can’t tell anybody. I only told you because I was upset, and because I know you’ll be leaving soon, and maybe even because you weren’t raised by your parents, either, so you can kind of understand my feelings. But you have to keep this a secret, okay?”

He stared at her, a glib assurance hovering on his tongue but refusing to leave his lips.

She shook his sleeve. “Please, Briley. Please promise you won’t tell anyone.”

Alexa

Briley offered to walk her from the barn to the front door, but Alexa shook her head. His gentlemanly treatment and big brother routine had already enticed her to say much more than she should have. She wouldn’t give him a chance to weasel something else out of her.

She waved to Marjorie as she passed through the living room but didn’t pause to chat. She wanted to close herself in her room and pretend she hadn’t been stupid enough to tell Briley Forrester the truth of her parentage. Why hadn’t she refused to leave the car until he gave his solemn vow to keep the information to himself? His throaty chuckle and glib response
—“Stop worrying, okay?”
—hadn’t fooled her. Somehow her story would end up in his article, and she’d never be able to face her mom, her grandmother, or her uncle and aunts again. She’d just proven herself untrustworthy to the entire Zimmerman clan.

A band of light flooded the upstairs landing. Anna—Grace’s door stood open, and the light meant she was awake. Alexa stifled a moan. Why couldn’t the girl be asleep already? Alexa peeked around the corner. Anna—Grace sat propped against the headboard with a book in her lap. Hope flickered in Alexa’s chest. If Anna—Grace was absorbed in the book, maybe she wouldn’t notice Alexa sneaking past. She tiptoed onto the landing.

Anna—Grace glanced up. A smile broke over her face, and she set the book
aside. “Hi! I’ve been watching for you.” She patted the edge of the bed. “Come, sit, and tell me about your evening.”

Alexa paused outside the door. She didn’t want to hurt Anna—Grace’s feelings, but how could she sit there and pretend all was well? She forced a laugh. “There’s not much to tell, really. Just a drive to Wichita, dinner, and home again.” Oh, such a blatant fib … Her conscience pricked.

“What did you eat? Something good?”

Anna—Grace’s open expression and lighthearted questions deserved a kind response. Alexa sighed, defeated. She stepped into the room and fingered the brass finial on the footboard. “Actually we just had cheeseburgers and fries. Nothing special.”