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JONAS PARKED ON THE library lot. The black car turned in half a minute later, turned right and idled quietly on the back row of spaces. The kid cracked his window and watched as Jonas peered through the ten-foot glass windows separating the library foyer from the outdoors.
Jonas spotted Linsey Logan sitting on the wooden bench donated by a local reading club. She appeared to be in deep thought, her legs crossed beneath a delicate peach cover dress. Chestnut bangs peeked out beneath her matching peach scarf. She clutched a small tan purse, no larger than a mass-produced paperback novel, on her lap.
Stilling himself and gathering his courage, Jonas heaved the glass door open. Linsey’s eyes met his as he stepped cautiously through. He found himself bathed in a warm glow emitting from her face. Her entire appearance was lit with a joyful smile. She instantly rose to her feet. “Jonas,” her dainty hand was outstretched, “I’m so thrilled you came.”
Jonas accepted her small hand, noting how soft and warm it was. Her handshake was loose, friendly, putting him at ease. “I said I’d come.”
Linsey appreciated those words. Her hand was still in his. “A young man who keeps his word. That’s something that’s hard to find these days.” She sighed. “I know you were reluctant about meeting me, so I reserved a small meeting room so we can talk privately.”
Jonas sized the woman up. She was doing everything she could to make him feel comfortable with this meeting. “Thank you,” Jonas said politely in reply.
Linsey led the way to the meeting room. It was theirs for one hour. Impatience and curiosity were making an entrance to this meeting.
“Please, Miss Logan, do you have information about my mother?”
“Yes, I do, Jonas. It may change your life. Please, have a seat.”
He slipped into one of the steel gray folding chairs as Linsey had asked. There were six of these parked at the small square table. Three on each side.
Linsey spoke as she sat, “Do you remember anything about your mother?” Her tone was light and friendly just as the handshake had been.
“No, not really. You said you were going to tell me something, not grill me.” Jonas kept his voice even and calm. He did not want to expose his cards, let her know just how anxious he felt. He folded his hands on the table.
“You said your father told you your mother died in a terrible car accident. Correct?”
“Yeah. Get to the point, or I’m outta here, lady.”
“Give me just a second, and I’ll come to the point.” Linsey turned her back as if composing her thoughts. She sensed his discomfort even with her back turned. His eyes seemed to bore into her. She was asking questions about his dead mother, questions laced with thorns.
“Jonas.” Her blue eyes stared into his, holding his gaze as if they were linked by chain and ball. He could not look away. He wanted to, but his eyes would not move or blink. “If I tell you about your mother there is no turning back. Are you sure you want to know?”
Jonas struggled against her stare. Her eyes were penetrating yet comforting. Weren’t her eyes brown just a second ago, he was thinking. He was transported to a dream he had often where he was looking up, staring a toothless grin into blue eyes that whirled like the ocean, absorbing all the colors around them. The colors mixed with the blue eyes made intriguing tints.
He was captivated. He wanted to know—had to know.