A Reason to Forget (The Camdyn Series Book 3)

by Christina Coryell

“Might not necessarily be relevant?” I mocked him, giving him a sigh of exasperation. “You think it’s just totally random that my parents happened to have that book with the letter glued in the back?”

  “It could be a…” he started, but I stopped him with an intense gaze.

  “Don’t say it’s a coincidence,” I demanded, picking the book up and waving it at him. “We don’t believe in coincidence, remember?”

  “Okay, definitely not a coincidence,” he sighed, shaking his head at me with a smile. “What other explanations could there be?”

  “My dad bought the book from this Darlene, who just happens to have looked like me, and I happen to look like Rita,” I completed the thought, wrinkling my nose. “So my dad bought the book from a girl who looked remarkably like a woman he would wind up marrying. That is preposterous.”

  “So what else do you have, Sherlock Holmes?” Cole asked with a wink. “Come on, you do this kind of stuff all the time when you’re researching your books.” He merged onto a busy highway, and I studied the side of his profile as I pondered his suggestion.

  There must be another explanation, Camdyn.

  Think!

  You don’t need to make up a back story for Rita – she’s not worth your time, so just leave it at that.

  But it is so perplexing.

  “You are completely staring at me,” Cole said with a beautiful smile. “Go on, though – I don’t mind.”

  “You got more than you bargained for with me, didn’t you?” I laughed. “Even when something should be cut-and-dried, it becomes complicated when I’m around.”

  “Yes, you are more,” he reasoned, glancing over at me. “More than I expected, more than I imagined… I love you more than I thought I could.”

  “I love you, too,” I repeated his words with a grin, reaching over to put my hand on his arm. “Can we just forget about Rita and Darlene for the time being? This is hurting my brain.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he stated, and we drove in silence for a moment until we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. He parked directly under our room, but as we were walking to the stairs, he asked if I wanted a drink from the vending machine. He set off to get us both water, but insisted that I go up to the room, so I plodded up the stairs alone and swiped the card to let myself in.

  About a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Knowing it was Cole, I slid the door open about an inch and peeked out. Not saying a word, he just leaned against the door frame with the water bottles, that beguiling smile across his face.

  “Can I help you?” I asked him smugly, and he gave me a mischievous look.

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I heard there’s a fire in here that needs to be put out,” he managed to say with a completely straight face.

  “No, sorry, no fire here,” I teased him. Sigh. Maybe I should get him a fireman’s uniform – I could tell him it was for Halloween.

  “I’m afraid you don’t understand the severity of the situation,” he stated then, standing up a little taller and clearing his throat.

  I wonder if he knows how attractive he is. He does, of course, because he can see that he ties me in knots.

  “You know, now that you mention it, I did think about starting a fire, but I couldn’t find any Cole,” I said with a giant wink of my left eye. “Do you like what I just did there? Cole? Coal?”

  “Yeah, your wordplay is marvelous,” he sighed, “but you already ruined everything.”

  “Did I?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “Yes.”

  At that, I simply grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and pulled him into the room.

  -§-

  On our way to Meg’s house that evening, the dreaded subject of Rita/Darlene naturally came up again. Of course I was very confused about the entire situation, but I tried to play it off as no big deal. Cole didn’t want to hear me think it through out loud, and quite frankly, I was still determined to convince him that I didn’t need professional help, as he pointed out a few days before. I was sane, cool, and unaffected – outwardly, at least. I might have been doing some mental hokey pokey, but Cole did not need that tidbit of information. No, I was an emotional fortress.

  “Are you ready for this?” he interrupted my thoughts, catching me by surprise.

  “I haven’t decided,” I admitted, causing him to smile.

  “You’re very cute when your brain’s doing gymnastics,” he stated. “Your face changes every time a new thought pops into your head.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” I argued.

  “Yep.”

  “So what about now? Am I having a thought?” He gave me one of those smirking grins, and I knew he was about to tease me.

  “Yes, and it’s a good one. Camdyn Parker, I’m surprised by your brazenness. We’ve been invited to a stranger’s house for dinner. Where’s your decency, woman?”

  “Oh, stop!” I rebutted with a laugh. “That’s not going to help anything.”

  “It could help a lot of things,” he went on. When I gave him a stern look, he smiled. “It’s a fact – don’t shoot the messenger.” At that moment, I wasn’t sure how anyone could look at Cole with that grin and not be totally captivated by him.

  “I love you, you goofy man,” I sighed. “You make me feel almost normal.” We pulled into the driveway of a two-story colonial, and he trained those brown eyes on my face.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not normal. You were born to stand out.”

  “Like a freak at the circus,” I suggested, and he took my hands in his.

  “No, like a diamond in a coal mine,” he said, leaning across the seat to kiss me. “You’re so awesome, you show up on peoples’ doorsteps and they practically beg you to be part of their family, inviting you to dinner and telling you you’re a long-lost relative.”

  “Tell me about it,” I grinned at my husband. “You hardly waited three weeks before you asked me to take your name.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I find you completely fascinating.” He reached across the car and pulled me to him again, and I laughed against his cheek.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t ‘park’ in their driveway like a couple of teenagers, sitting out here kissing all night,” I giggled. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” Giving me an exasperated sigh, he released my arm and moved to open the driver’s side door.

  “’Get this over with,’” he stated drily, shaking his head at me. “You can play it off like you’re being all cool, but I know how much you like a good mystery. You are excited and nervous and slightly perplexed, and it’s all playing across that beautiful face of yours.” Wrinkling my nose at him, I swung open my car door and stepped out onto the concrete.

  “Yeah, I forgot that you can read my mind,” I grimaced, pretending that I was angry with him. “What am I thinking now, Mr. Parker?” He chuckled and placed his arm around me as we walked toward the front door.

  “Simmer down, missy,” he commanded gently, causing me to roll my eyes at him, but I slid my arm around his waist so I could pull closer to him. As we stepped up onto the porch, a wave of panic suddenly washed over me, and I seated myself on a wicker chair, clasping my hands between my knees. While I debated turning back toward the car, Cole knelt comfortingly in front of me as I forced a deep breath into my lungs and attempted to return his smile.

  “What if they really are my relatives?” I whispered, glancing at the inviting front door with the wood vine wreath wrapped in gray and yellow ribbon.

  “Then you handle it with grace and act like the Camdyn I know, and they won’t be able to help but fall in love with you,” he stated simply.

  “This is so unexpected,” I moaned. “Why couldn’t they just give me the stuff for my book and not confuse me with all this Darlene business?” At that, Cole laughed quietly.

  “Come on, crazy woman,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “Just give it a minute and see what happens before you worry yourself, okay?” Nodding my head, I watched as he
knocked on the door, and a loud barking came from the other side. When the door was opened, I was met by a white and tan bearded collie which looked like it was about to lunge at me, were it not being held back by Meg’s protective arm.

  “This is Tory,” Meg stated, wrapping her arm around the dog’s head. “She won’t hurt you – she’s just a little excited, aren’t you Tory? Who’s my good girl? Tory’s my good girl.”

  And…the woman who thinks she’s my aunt is baby-talking a dog. Maybe my crazy genes are inherited after all.

  “I’m just going to take Tory to the back yard,” Meg continued, “you two come on in and make yourself at home.” Watching her walk away, I turned to Cole and gave him a sideways smile.

  Yeah, can’t make myself at home. Too weird.

  Cole and I stood awkwardly in the entryway, glancing around and wondering what to do. If I was feeling strange, I knew he felt even more so. Being in a stranger’s house was always a little uncomfortable, but this was on another level. I checked a family picture on a nearby wall, of Meg and a man with three kids, and didn’t know whether to view it through the prism of them being strangers or my long-lost cousins.

  “Come on in, you two,” Meg returned then, waving us inside. “You said it was Cole, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, following me with his hand protectively on my shoulder.

  “So polite,” she stated with a sigh. “Where are you from?”

  “Tennessee.”

  “I’ve never been to Tennessee,” she informed us, leading us into a room with several new faces. “Everybody, they’re here. This is Camdyn, my niece. How amazing is that? I still can’t believe it. And this is her husband, Cole. They’re from Tennessee.”

  Hi, everybody. We’re the new people. No, this isn’t awkward.

  Two young men glanced up at us from where they were looking at a tablet that was sitting on the table, and a young woman kept herself aloof leaning against the door frame.

  “Bill, come in here,” Meg instructed, and a tall, slender man walked around the corner, greeting us with a smile. “This is my husband, Bill. Our two sons – Tucker is a sophomore in high school, and Jasper is a senior. And our daughter, Maureen, is in her second year at the Curtis Institute of Music. She’s a violinist, and the admission there is extremely competitive.”

  “That’s very impressive,” I nodded to Maureen, a very classically pretty young woman who kept staring at me without emotion.

  “What do you do?” she asked, glancing at her fingernails as though she could barely be bothered to speak to me.

  “Camdyn’s a best-selling author,” Cole interjected, still not removing his hand from my shoulder.

  “Oh, really?” Meg wondered. “What do you write?”

  “Historical fiction,” I answered, somehow managing to feel even more uncomfortable after the introductions. The boys didn’t bother continuing to look at us – they went right back to their tablet, and Maureen just continued to give me a look that insinuated that she would rather be anywhere than in my presence.

  “Hannah’s bringing dad over,” Meg told me, breaking the silence. “I dug out some pictures I want to show you, before they get here. That is, if you want to see them.”

  “Sure,” I agreed, but I wouldn’t have felt comfortable saying no anyway. Opening a drawer in a hutch behind her, she pulled out a small stack of photos. Handing the first one to me, she paused to wait for my reaction. Looking down, I saw a girl who looked a lot like I did in high school, and I had to admit that this Darlene did resemble Rita – not so much the Rita I knew now, but the one from my baby pictures, who looked happy and content. The second picture was of Darlene and Meg together, with their arms draped around each other – Meg laughing and Darlene rolling her eyes. Yet another picture showed Darlene making a face at the camera, wearing a cheerleader uniform.

  “That was Darlene’s senior year,” Meg informed me, “but she never graduated. Everything happened that January.”

  “Everything happened…what does that mean?” I wanted to know, but right about then, the doorbell rang and Hannah announced her arrival. When she fully came into my view, her earlier attitude proved to be only a tiny shower before the real storm, because I could tell she had progressed all the way to hostile. Cole didn’t miss the fact that she glared at me, either, because when I glanced at him, he narrowed his eyebrows in agreement. Charlie, however, was more than happy to see me, beaming as soon as he walked into the room and placing his hand on my arm.

  “The long lost sheep brought back to the fold,” he chuckled as he smiled into my face, and I could have sworn that I heard Hannah snort behind me, but I chose to ignore it.

  “Hi, Charlie,” I answered, finding it hard to share his enthusiasm. “I hope you’ve had a pleasant day.”

  “My lands, I would imagine,” he said. “I haven’t had such a good day in a very long time.”

  “Well, shall we eat before the food is cold?” Meg chimed in. “We’re having lamb chops with rosemary balsamic reduction, Camdyn. I hope that’s okay.”

  “She lives in Tennessee, mother,” Maureen muttered from her corner, still looking at those fingernails. “Do you honestly think she is going to complain about your food? What do people eat in Tennessee, anyway?”

  Wow, Maureen is certainly rude. Don’t let her get to you, Camdyn.

  “Gosh, it’s hard to find food,” I retorted. “Most days we go out to the back yard and get eggs from the chicken coop, but occasionally for a treat we go by a farmer’s field and grab a couple ears of corn.”

  “You girls and your sense of humor,” Meg laughed, but I really didn’t think Maureen was trying to be funny.

  “So did you use that service that prepares food in advance, mother, or did you have Mrs. Cho cook it for you?” Maureen asked, finally raising her eyes. “Mother can’t cook at all. She burns everything.”

  “Maureen exaggerates,” Meg insisted with a flip of her wrist. “I don’t burn everything.”

  “Maybe you are related,” Cole whispered in my ear, and I jabbed my elbow into his ribs for good measure. Meg moved us all toward the dining room then, through her labyrinth of hallways in that enormous house. It was certainly a contrast from Charlie’s modest home, but I suddenly realized with a jolt that it did remind me of Rita’s home in Italy. With that realization came the uncomfortable feeling that I definitely didn’t belong there.

  Meg served the lamb with the rosemary reduction, as well as an arugula and mint salad with a creamy dressing, saffron risotto, and sourdough bread. (I only remember that because she made a point to announce each individual course of the meal she served, as though she were the chef in a gourmet restaurant and the dishes were her personal creations.) There would also be a crème brulee for dessert, she informed us with pleasure. Cole grabbed my knee under the table, and I knew that was his way of announcing to me that he wasn’t enjoying this display, not that there was anything I could do about it. Charlie didn’t seem too happy about it, either – he kept smiling at me in a way that seemed almost apologetic.

  It certainly didn’t escape my notice that Meg was trying to impress us, but I couldn’t determine why she would think that was necessary. Maureen certainly didn’t think we were very important, and obviously Hannah would have rather kicked me than sit down to dinner with me. I wasn’t ordinarily one to dislike anything considered fancy, as long as it wasn’t accompanied by a pretentious attitude. Admittedly, this felt very forced.

  “So, when’s the last time you saw Darlene?” Meg wanted to know. “Or, what was the other name you gave?”

  “It’s Rita,” I told her, “and I just saw her a couple of days ago. Before the last two weeks, though, it had been about ten years.”

  “You haven’t seen your mother for ten years?” Maureen interjected. “Lucky.”

  Maureen, if you were about six, I would think you needed a time-out.

  “She lived in Italy for years with her second husband,” I added. “I don’t know w
hy she’s suddenly back in the U.S. – we’re really not on speaking terms.”

  “Then how did you know where to find us?” Hannah suddenly entered the conversation, her piercing gray-green eyes pinning me down.

  “Like I said before, the letter fell out of my book…”

  “Yes, the book I sent to Darlene,” Meg interrupted. “I told you about that, Hannah, remember?” Rather than answering, Hannah squinted her eyes a little before she withdrew them from mine. It took all the self-control I contained not to turn to Cole and ask him if he saw her giving me those dirty looks.

  “How long have you been married?” Charlie wondered timidly, and I imagined all these strong-opinioned ladies running over him on a consistent basis.

  “Today makes two weeks,” I told him with a smile.

  “Newlyweds,” he sighed, “how I remember those days. I wouldn’t trade a single minute of those first few years with my Isabel.” Visibly annoyed, Hannah shifted in her seat

  “Grandpa, it’s getting late,” she told him. “Maybe we should go home.”

  “Oh, let me be, Hannah,” he moaned. “An old man can stay up past his bedtime occasionally, when he has a good reason to do it.” With that he offered me another sad smile, and I felt a connection to him, in spite of my internal protests. I liked Charlie Camden – I wouldn’t mind if he really was my grandfather.

  “How long ago was that, that you were a newlywed?” Cole asked him. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “Not at all, son,” Charlie stated, seemingly glad to be continuing our bit of the conversation. “Fifty-seven years now. Will be fifty-eight years next month, God willing.”

  Wait a minute – Hannah told me her grandmother was gone, as in she passed away, right? Charlie seems to think that’s not the case, though. Maybe that’s why she is so protective of him.

  Gosh, that’s sad.

  “That’s incredible,” Cole congratulated Charlie, not knowing all the facts. “What’s your secret? How do we get from two weeks to fifty-seven years?”

  “You never give up,” he began wistfully. “Life is hard, and there will be times when you are on top of the moon, and you couldn’t imagine loving someone as much as you love her, but there will be those other times when you want to kill her. When it happens, just know that you’re not alone, but don’t forget your promise. One day, fifty years from now, you will look at her and see your best friend, who has gone through the best and worst of all your moments, and is still standing beside you, simply because you both decided not to give up.”