When I helped deliver babies each day, the mothers I assisted were always scared but very rarely about whether their child would survive. They were always worried about if they were ready or if they would make a good mother. As soon as a child was dropped into the mother's arms, all those fears melted away when they saw that child for the first time.
Part of me hoped that if given the chance, I would feel the same way, but my life was different. I'd raised myself. My father hadn't been much of a father to begin with, but after my mother had left, he'd retreated into himself, and I had been left on my own from that moment on. Wasn't I missing something because of that? I always feared that if I became a mother and had that moment when my child was placed in my arms for the first time, my baby would know I was a fraud. That tiny bundle would look up at me and know I wasn't capable of taking care of something so precious.
I didn't know how long I'd wandered through the cemetery, but it must have been a long time because before I knew it, I'd ended up in the newer section, finding myself surrounded by new dates rather than old. Just as I was about to turn around to head back, I saw a familiar face coming toward me.
"Hey, I've been looking for you," Declan said, all decked out in Civil War regalia.
He pulled me into a hug, and he smelled like smoke and earth, like he'd been around a campfire. It must have been leftover from his scene they'd just filmed.
"Sorry, I was headed over. Then, I just started wandering and lost track of time," I said, a bit embarrassed.
"No problem. We have a break for lunch. I wanted to see if you wanted food," he said with a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Real food, I promise. Got to keep you fed," he joked.
"I could definitely eat, Hotshot."
I gave him a swat on the ass, which caused him to chuckle. He swung his arm over my shoulder, and we began to make our way back to the set when I stopped dead in my tracks, seeing a headstone to my right that squeezed all the air out of my lungs and nearly dropped me to my knees.
"Leah? Jesus...are you okay?" Declan asked, feeling my knees buckle, as he quickly moved to hold me up.
I couldn't even speak at that moment. I just pointed. His eyes followed my outstretched hand until he found the name that had left me speechless and unable to move from that spot in the cemetery.
"Lilith Jean Morgan," he said out loud, trying to make sense of it all. "Leah, is this your mother?"
"It was. We used to call her Lily," I said softly.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he said, pulling me into a tight hug. "I didn't know she had died."
I stared at the headstone, my eyes unable to pull away from it. "Neither did I."
Chapter Eight
~Declan~
"I should have stayed with her," I muttered into my beer, thinking no one would hear over the loud chatter of the sports bar we had picked for our guys' night out.
The bar was filled with men, eyes glued to TV screens that were showing a couple different college games. The group next to us, slightly younger, was loud and annoying, and I wanted to drop-kick them the moment we'd sat down.
"What did you say?" Logan asked between swigs of his O'Doul's.
I didn't know how he stomached that shit.
"Nothing...I said nothing. Shit, I don't know. Leah, man...she got all weird today in the cemetery. She found her mother's grave, and she's barely spoken all day."
His eyes widened, and he was quiet for a moment as he looked across the table to Garrett, who had actually managed to pull himself away from his desk for a change. The men exchanged some sort of silent conversation before turning back to me. Colin, apparently, had no idea what silent conversation had gone on between them either because he looked about as confused as I did while he continued to make progress with his Jack and Coke.
"What exactly is going on between you and Leah, Declan?" Garrett asked, giving me a hard look.
I would have gotten up to beat his ass if the look wasn't that of a big brother defending his sister. I appreciated the man for trying to take care of her.
"Fuck, I don't know. It wasn't supposed to get this deep. But now, I can't pull away now. She looked destroyed today. She said she didn't know her mother had passed. How is that possible?" I asked.
"Leah's mother left her and her father when she was seven," Logan said before taking a long draw from his drink. "She hasn't seen or heard from her mother since then."
"Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have left. She said she was fine. She basically pushed me out the door. She smiled and said she was going to call Clare and have a movie night."
Looking at Logan as he flinched, I figured out there was no movie night. I'd been duped.
The noise level of the group next to us rose to an epic level, and my jaw ticked in annoyance. Garrett turned in his seat, probably ready to tell the jackasses to shut the hell up. I kind of liked this kid.
As soon as he turned, one of the guys yelled, "Garrett f**king Finnegan! How the f**k are you, man?"
Great, they were friends. I pulled the cap tighter around my head, ducking slightly. So far, being in Richmond hadn't been a big deal. People here didn't expect to see celebrities in a sports bar. Therefore, they didn't look for them. In Hollywood, I could be spotted in two seconds flat. Here, it usually took a while, and if I kept my head down and didn't bring much attention to myself, I could usually get by without anyone noticing. They all knew a movie was being filmed here, but they figured we'd be hanging out in fancy restaurants and snooty clubs, not dive sports bars.
"Hey, Matt. How are you? It's been a while," Garrett responded, clearly not as excited as his friend was about the reunion.
"Damn straight, dude. Last time I saw you was at our high school graduation. You and Mia were smiling for photos, getting ready to leave for college. Hey, how's she doing by the way?"
Garrett looked ashen as he glanced down at his hands, suddenly very interested in his palms. "I wouldn't know. Never saw her after that day."
"What? Are you f**king kidding me? You guys were, like, practically already married in high school. You're telling me you let a hot piece of ass like that walk away?"
The last part was slurred, a by-product of the four empty glasses sitting in front of the guy, I was guessing.
Garrett's hands fisted together, and he was on his feet in an instant, towering over the drunken idiot. "Listen, Matt, we were never buddies, so I don't really give a shit what you think. But you are going to drop this. Right. Fucking. Now."
Not bothering to wait for an answer, Garrett stormed out of the bar, leaving Logan and me in stunned silence.