I didn’t trust Beck’s manipulation skills. I was the one with a mission. “We are, but we moved here recently,” I paused trying to hold my tongue back, but it was no use. It was now or never. “We knew Colby though.”
The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Please have a seat, let me get you a drink and the phone.” She flew out of the room and Beck grabbed my arm. “Abby, what are you doing ? That wasn’t subtle at all,” he hissed quietly.
I shook out my hands, feeling like I’d just held up a bank and now I was stuck with hostages that I didn’t know what to do with. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do,” I whispered, trying to calm my breathing.
“ Here you go, you two,” she said as she reentered the room with two glasses of lemonade and the phone. Lemonade. God damnit woman, don’t serve us sugary drinks when we’re manipulating you!
Beck bolted over to help her with the drinks and then he took the phone. “I’ll go… call a tow truck,” he fumbled, and the woman gave him an awkward glance.
The second he was out of earshot, she sat down and patted the couch cushion next to her. “Were you a friend of Colby’s from school?” she asked gently. I tried to morph her features to see what she would look like as a teenage boy, but I failed miserably. I couldn’t picture what Colby could have looked like at all.
“ Um, yes,” I lied, and then took a giant gulp of lemonade. “I mean, I knew of him, but we weren’t really friends,” I added once I had swallowed. I didn’t want to lie to his mom anymore than I had to.
“ Do you have any pictures of him?” I asked.
The expression that passed across her features was impossible to discern. “Oh, um, no, we don’t.”
Strange.
I nodded and tried to think of another question that wouldn’t reveal the fact that I actually didn’t know her son in any way.
“ Could you tell me about him? If it’s not too painful?” I had no clue where my question landed on the spectrum of red flags, but she furrowed her brows and set her lemonade down on the counter.
“ I thought you said you went to school with him,” she answered, not meeting my gaze.
“ Right. Yeah. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t going to make this easy and I couldn’t blame her.
“ He was on the basketball team, did you know that?” she smiled as if recalling a memory. “He was the star of the team and all of the girls loved him, as I’m sure you know.” She winked.
I smiled and nodded reassuringly as if all of that was old news. So he was an athlete.
“ He was a giver. Everyone said he had the biggest heart.”
I choked on my lemonade, spewing clear liquid across her coffee table.
“ Oh dear, are you okay?” She leaned over and patted my back before I jumped to my feet.
I wiped the remaining lemonade from my mouth with the back of my hand.
“ I’m so sorry. Let me grab some napkins.” I darted into the kitchen only then realizing how awkward it was to be running around her house without her approval. I had no clue where she kept the napkins and my head was still spinning from her ‘heart’ comment. What are the odds that she would use that phrase? It was destiny. I was supposed to meet her.
“ Ma’am,” I began, twisting on my feet and starting to run back into the living room. I grabbed a towel from the counter as an afterthought. “Colby was my donor. He gave me his heart. Your son saved my life.”
The woman was leaning over the table, moving papers out of the way of my lemonade spill. When I said my spiel, her gaze lifted to mine and she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. “Oh, sweetie. I’m not Colby’s mom. His family moved out of Odessa shortly after his death.”
What?
My shoulders slumped in defeat and I dropped her towel onto the coffee table. What did she mean they moved? Why hadn’t they updated their address with the hospital yet?