Although Maya had her own room, she often slept with Jada. They’d watched a movie together on Jada’s computer and, since it ended, they’d been lying together, talking in the dark about Tiffany and Annie and how wonderful it was to have close friends. The conversation had drifted from Annie helping at the cookie shop to whether the cookie shop was going to stay open and how they could make it more successful. Jada told Maya that she’d started a Facebook page and an Instagram account for Sugar Mama, hoping that might help, but she felt Maya had an even better idea. Maya thought her grandma should start making ice cream sandwiches with her cookies, like a place they used to frequent—and was always crowded—in LA.
“We definitely need to talk to Grandma about that,” Jada said.
Maya tried Jada’s rings on her own fingers and held out her hands to admire what she could see of them in the moonlight filtering through the blinds. “Do you think she’ll go for it?”
“She might.” Susan could be resistant to change, but she was going to have to do something or she’d lose the shop, and updating and revamping what the store offered would be smart, especially because it would give Jada more to plug on social media. A double whammy.
“I hope she will,” Maya said. “It’s so sad Grandpa had to die. She’s lonely without him.”
“Yeah. What she’s going through isn’t easy.”
“Will it be expensive to offer ice cream at Sugar Mama?” Maya asked.
“It won’t be cheap, what with buying the freezer and all. And Grandma doesn’t have a lot of extra money right now. But I believe it would be worth the investment. With any luck, she’d earn it back by selling more cookies.”
Maya returned her rings. “I really want the shop to make it. I love it.”
“So do I.” Jada could feel her eyelids getting heavy, but she didn’t want to miss out on any of this time with her daughter. These days they stayed up late talking quite often, but it was a relatively new thing, just since they’d left Eric. Jada enjoyed the fact that they were growing even closer.
“Mom?”
Jada had begun to fall asleep. “Yes?” she said, rousing.
“Will you tell me about my dad?”
The fatigue she’d been battling immediately evaporated. Jada had had to dodge a lot of questions like this lately. Maya seemed to be getting more and more curious about the man who’d provided the other half of her genetic code. But Jada had never been quite as apprehensive as she was tonight, when she knew Maya’s father was living in the area. “What do you want to know, honey?”
“What did he look like?”
“I’ve told you.”
“Tell me again.”
Jada drew a deep breath as Maddox’s image conjured in her mind—a far fresher image than her poor daughter would ever guess. “He was big, about six foot two.”
“How much did he weigh?”
Then or now? He’d bulked up a bit, but it was a nice improvement. “Probably two hundred pounds.”
“Wow! That sounds like a lot. Was he fat?”
“No, not at all.” Jada couldn’t help chuckling. “That’s a good weight for a muscular man of his height.”
“And he had black hair?”
“That’s right.”
“Like mine?”
“A little darker than yours but close.”
“What color were his eyes?”
Maya already knew that, too. She just liked hearing it again. “Blue.”
“We’re the same there.”
“Yes, you are.”
“What was his middle name?”
“He never told me that.”
“And you don’t remember his last name?”
Jada could hear the disappointment in her voice and knew she had good reason to find that odd. “We weren’t together for very long, honey. And it’s been more than twelve years.”
“But you loved him, right?”
There was no doubt of that. “Yes.”
“Then how could you forget his name?”
That wasn’t an easy lie to justify, but Jada had to make the attempt. “We were just kids.” She hated to minimize what she’d felt for Maddox, even if they had been young, but she couldn’t give too many details, not until she was ready to divulge the truth. And with everything that was going on, she definitely wasn’t prepared for the truth quite yet.
“Was he nice?” she asked.
“I’ve told you many times that he was.”
She fell silent for a few seconds, but Jada could tell it wasn’t because she’d drifted off. “I wish he’d never gotten on that motorcycle.”
Jada couldn’t help wincing. She’d fabricated a death. What had once seemed like the easiest way to handle the situation—to quickly and easily eliminate all questions and keep her daughter from ever reaching out and bringing Maddox back into her life and the lives of her family—now felt like the worst plan ever, because it was going to be so hard to back away from. Or should she simply maintain what she’d said all along? She was so wedded to the lie she felt as though she didn’t have much choice.
“That’s why you should always wear a helmet,” she mumbled.
Maya leaned up on one elbow to look down at her. “But you told me he was wearing a helmet.”
“Right. He was,” Jada said, hoping to cover for her mistake. “You can still be hurt, even killed. But at least it’s a little bit safer if you’re wearing a helmet.”
Maya dropped back onto the pillow. “I’m never going to ride on a motorcycle.”
When Maya seemed to accept her response, Jada let her breath seep out. She was relieved but also guilty, because she knew she was trading on trust. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Was the accident in the newspaper?”
Jada felt another spark of alarm. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I’d like to read about it.”
After adjusting the covers, Jada shifted to be able to see her daughter’s face. “I doubt it was in the paper, babe.”
“Do you know that for sure?”
“Um...no.”
“So will you check for me? Please?”
A twinge of pain alerted Jada that she’d curved her fingernails into her palms and was squeezing too tight. She forced herself to ease up. “Yeah, I’ll check,” she heard herself say.
“Thanks, Mom.” Happy to have achieved a commitment, Maya gave her a big kiss and rolled over to go to sleep.
As Maya’s breathing deepened, Jada reached over to get her phone off the nightstand. She did a bit of reading—various news articles and surfing—hoping that would help her relax again. But it was no good. She was too worried about the lies she’d told Maya and what might happen in the future.
Ultimately, she went into her contacts and scrolled to the letter M. As frightened as she was, she was inexorably drawn to the man with whom she’d created Maya, even still.
She felt a smile tug at her lips as she realized that, if she texted him, he’d have no idea who it was from. Because of Tiffany, she had Maddox’s number, but he didn’t have hers. Neither did anyone in his circle. All she had to do was erase her voice mail greeting and, even if he called, he wouldn’t be able to tell it was her.
God, you’re gorgeous, she wrote. She didn’t really plan on sending that message, but then Maya stirred and lifted her head and, in an impetuous move akin to suddenly jumping out in front of a bus, she turned so that her daughter wouldn’t be able to see her screen, even if she was looking, and hit Send at the same time.
Maddox was sleeping when he heard his phone ping.
Reluctant to open his eyes, he tried to ignore it. He had to work in the morning, knew it would help if he felt rested. But he had the terrible feeling his mother was on meth again—she’d acted bizarrely when he spoke to her last—so he couldn’t go on sleeping. She could be in trouble.
He nearly knocked the lamp over as he grabbed his phone but managed to right it at the last second.
He blinked several times to clear his vision as he read the text. Had he read that right? And who was it from?
He sat up all the way and stared down at the number. His phone didn’t recognize it and neither did he. He didn’t even recognize the area code. But that didn’t mean anything these days, not with the portability of cell phones.
Was it the blonde he’d met at the Blue Suede Shoe? If so, how’d she get his number? She’d entered her contact info into his phone, but he hadn’t done the same.
Who is this? he wrote.
No response.
Hello?
He wondered if it could be Paris. Maybe she was out partying and using someone else’s phone. But if that were the case, why wouldn’t she answer him? What was the point in hiding her identity? She’d already made it clear she still had feelings for him.
After ten minutes or so, when he received nothing more, he prodded again.
Paris? He thought that might provoke her into answering, but it didn’t.
Hey, you texted me, he wrote.
Still nothing. He was about to assume it was someone with a wrong number and set his phone aside when he got a response. It isn’t Paris.
Who is it, then?
Again, nothing.
This is Maddox Richardson. Are you sure you have the right guy?
Absolutely.
This was getting more interesting by the moment. Are you the woman I met at the Blue Suede Shoe?
He thought it had to be her, but this time he got an answer almost immediately. Definitely not.
Mystified, he thought back, trying to remember if there was anyone else he’d encountered recently, maybe a new teacher at the school. But no one he’d hired had his personal phone number. Are you going to tell me who you are?
Again, there was a long wait, as if the person writing him had to think each answer through. Was this person shy? Or maybe playing a game with him?
At last he heard another ping. No.
Why not? he asked. But it didn’t matter what he wrote after that. Whoever had paid him that compliment didn’t respond again.
“I hear your life has gotten a little more interesting.”
At first, Maddox thought Aiyana was referring to the text he’d received last night and wondered how she could possibly know about it. But then he realized Eli or Gavin must’ve told her Jada was at the Blue Suede Shoe on Monday. “Yes. The first ‘run-in’ is officially over.”
He didn’t tell her that he’d seen Jada once before on purpose.
She took the seat across from his desk. “And? How’d it go?”
“It was fine. We pretty much ignored each other.” Until he’d finally allowed himself to look over and found her staring at him.
“Jada’s a nice girl. So’s her daughter, Maya.”
“Did you ever meet Jada’s husband?” Maddox couldn’t help wondering what that man had been like, and why his relationship with Jada didn’t last.
“I met him at her father’s funeral. Didn’t have a chance to say much.”
“Did he seem nice?”
“Nice enough. He was older.”
“How much older?”
“About thirteen years.”
That was a bit more than Maddox had been expecting. “Did they seem to be in love?”
“It was tough to tell. She’d just lost her father, so she was grieving and probably not acting like she normally would.”
“Was he trying to comfort her?”
“I didn’t see them interact. She stood apart from her mother and brother, which gave me the impression she wasn’t feeling particularly close to them, even though they shared the loss. But she wasn’t clinging to her husband, either. She mostly held on to Maya and he just stood behind them.”
“What would make her marry a man entering his thirties if she was only eighteen?”
Aiyana crossed her legs and smoothed her ankle-length skirt. “From what I’ve heard, she headed to LA almost as soon as she graduated. After what happened to Atticus, I think things were difficult for her at home and she wanted to get out as soon as possible. Maybe this guy offered her the love she needed. Or maybe it was only the security.”
“What do you think split them up?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t even venture a guess.”
It made Maddox sad that what happened might’ve chased her into a bad marriage on top of everything else. “They had only the one child?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d like to meet her.”
“Maya? She’s darling. Tall with big blue eyes and thick dark hair. She helps out at the cookie store sometimes.”
“Then I’ll hope to spot her somewhere else,” he said with a laugh.
She laughed, too. “I don’t blame you. Anyway, I came by because I want to run something past you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You know Cindy Coates...”
“I don’t know her, but I’ve met her. She’s the one who painted the music room for us, isn’t she?”
“That’s her. And she brought her daughter, Annie.”
“Yes, I met her, too.”
“She made an interesting comment to me before she left, something I’ve been thinking about ever since.”
“What’s that?”
“She said it might be easier to rehabilitate the girls who are struggling in our student body if we have more of a mix—some girls who are doing well and don’t need help, so they could set an example, befriend and uplift the others.”
“If they would befriend and uplift. I’d hate for there to be a division, to have some girls who feel they aren’t valued as highly as others, just like in regular schools.”
“We could keep an eye out for that, be careful to avoid it where possible. Anyway, I’m tempted to try it for a year to see how it works, and I wanted to get your opinion.”
Having fewer girls with deeply rooted problems and more people to carry the load of loving and helping them didn’t sound like a bad idea. “This would be the year to do it. Since we’re just opening, enrollment isn’t as high as it should be going forward, once more people hear about us. We could fill the rest of our slots with local girls who have a good track record. But how do we find them and approach them?”
“Cindy said she could do that. She’s done a lot of work in the schools, knows most everyone in town. She said she’d even enroll Annie. Annie is a great student and so sweet to everyone. She’d be ideal.”
“Since we have the room, I don’t see any reason not to try it.”
“Great. That’s what I’ve been thinking, too. I just wanted to be sure you didn’t have a problem with it.”
“Not at all.”
“So would you like to call Cindy and get her started?”
“Have you got her number?”
She stood and scanned through the contacts on her phone before jotting the digits on a sticky note, which she tore off and handed to him. “Here you go.”
She was just leaving when Maddox called her back. “Aiyana?”
“Yes?”
“What area goes with a 626 area code? Do you know?”
“That’s LA, I think. Why?”
He shook his head. “No reason.”
Jada’s mother remained aloof for the next several days, behaving as she used to behave when Jada displeased her as a girl—by giving her the silent treatment. Atticus must’ve told their mother he knew Maddox was back in town. She probably blamed Jada for telling him, even though it wasn’t her, but Jada wasn’t going to bring it up even to address the misconception.
She tried to avoid her mother as much as possible. Susan would get up early and open the store. Then Jada would go in, often with Maya—or sometimes Maya and Annie—around two so her mother could go home and rest. And once she closed the shop at night and drove home, she’d work on her social media business in her bedroom, and the cycle would start over the next day. Between her mother’s illness and Jada’s work hours, they didn’t have to see each other a whole lot, which was just fine with Jada. Since she’d been gone from Silver Springs for almost thirteen years, and left at such a young age, she wasn’t used to interacting with her mother on a daily basis, anyway, was happier without the constant conflict.
So it was a surprise when her mother called her on Tuesday afternoon with something other than instructions for ordering more supplies or baking a certain batch of cookies. Jada was at Sugar Mama, but it was the hottest time of day, which meant it was also the slowest time of day, so she was on her computer searching for prices on freezers and ice cream makers. She wanted to put Maya’s idea down on paper, to show her mother what it would cost and how quickly they might earn back the investment before pitching the idea. Maya had been at the store with her earlier but Annie’s mother had picked her up so that she could go swimming with Annie.
“I just saw him,” her mother said without preamble when she answered.
“Atticus?” Her brother had been gone a lot more than usual. Jada knew he was with his friend who was trying to get a job, and she hoped that Atticus was trying, too. But she hadn’t asked him how that was going, hadn’t wanted to keep pushing now that she’d made her opinion clear.
“No. Maddox Richardson! I knew it was only a matter of time.”
Jada gripped the phone that much tighter. “Where’d you see him?”
“At the grocery store.”
“And? Did he give you any trouble?”
“Just having him around is trouble!”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “But did he try to talk to you or anything?”
“I got the impression he was contemplating saying something. He looked at me as if he was about to approach, but I gave him a look that let him know he’d better not, and he immediately turned around.”
Jada hadn’t forgotten Maddox’s apology. She wondered if he’d been about to apologize to her mother, too. If so, she was glad he’d been perceptive enough to change his mind. Susan was not the forgiving sort. She was too miserable right now, with her health and just losing Jeremiah, to think of anyone else and what might be best for them. “In other words, he stayed out of your way.”
She didn’t comment on that. “Maya looks just like him, Jada,” she said. “Have you seen him?”
Fortunately, Susan didn’t pause long enough that Jada had to answer that question.
“It’s obvious she’s his!”
The fear Jada had been feeling dug in deeper, this time with sharp talons. “Only to us,” she insisted, using logic to battle her own panic as well as her mother’s. “Because we know. As far as everyone else is concerned, Maya belongs to Eric.”
“Except that she knows he isn’t her father. All they have to do is talk to her. She’ll tell them her father died in a motorcycle crash right here in Silver Springs!”
“That story will work.” So long as it wasn’t Maddox who was doing the asking. He might wonder at that, but no one else had followed her life closely back then. “No one has any reason to delve into it, Mom.”
There was a long silence. “You’d better pray you’re right, or you could lose that little girl.”
Little girl. Maya wasn’t so little anymore. But Jada didn’t want to lose her, all the same.
After she hung up, she scrolled to the text exchange she’d had with Maddox a week ago. There wasn’t much there, and yet she’d read it over and over, was always tempted to say just a little more. And, this time, she did.