Bound by Duty (Bound Series Book 1) (38 page)

Margaret sat back with her hands in her lap for a few minutes, but I knew she wasn’t going to drop it since she got a certain look in her eye when she knew she was right about something. It was a look that she usually reserved for trivia game shows, something she was both obsessed with and brilliant with.

“Well, it seems like it would be a little difficult to move towards your future if you don’t know your past.” She wiped invisible crumbs from her mouth with her paper-towel napkin. “Della, even if you don’t see these people at all, you need to go back and find out about your mother. You said she left you a house? That seems like a pretty good way to start a new life, which is exactly what you have been planning to do, isn’t it? Why shouldn’t you start that new life in a place where you can find some answers rather than above some old convenience store?” she asked in her no-nonsense manner.

“It’s not that simple, Margaret. Even if I wanted to go, the house is in North Carolina. I’ve never even left California. I can’t go all the way to the opposite side of the country just because of some empty house and some relatives who don’t want to know me. How would I even get there? What am I supposed to do there? It’s better that I just forget the whole thing and move on with my life, don’t you think?” My argument sounded weak even to my ears.

“Well, I suppose you could do that, but if it were me I’d want to know. I’d want to know where I came from, and know who my family was. I’d even want to know the worthless relatives who didn’t want to know me, because you can’t find any answers if you don’t ask any questions. But I guess I’m just more inquisitive than you are. Those questions would burn at me and keep me up at night. To each her own, though.”

Obviously satisfied with planting the seeds she knew would take root in my thoughts, Margaret kept the conversation light for the rest of lunch. She did, however, seem really pleased with herself and was uncommonly cheerful for a woman who never smiled. After lunch she insisted on cleaning up again, and I excused myself for a run.

Now, I am by no means an athlete. I don’t go to the gym or play team sports, but there is something about running that is extremely satisfying. I usually only take my runs when it’s raining outside, one oddity of mine from a long list of them. I also like to run barefoot. I’ve had my share of stubbed toes as a result, but the feeling of my bare feet hitting the earth is just exhilarating to me.

I took the trail behind the elementary school I had found my first week in town. It was a dirt path that wound through a semi-wooded area to a clearing with a picnic table and a few sandboxes. I always made a beeline for the huge redwood tree that seemed to watch over this little family spot; it was a lonely reminder that this entire area was once a huge forest. I sat down with my back to the tree, dug my toes a little into the dirt and grass that surround the roots, and let myself absorb the calm that the tree offered with my head back and my eyes closed.

I’d been doing that a lot, going to that redwood and thinking about my future, and thought I had figured out which path my life would take. I would work at the convenience store, buy the old beat-up truck, rent out the tiny loft apartment, and save up for community college. I had only vague plans after that since I wasn’t in the habit of making long-term plans, never having been in one place long enough to make them.

My plan, which only that morning seemed exciting and fulfilling, was now lacking. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was missing, but I was sure that I could no longer be satisfied with that life, with any life really, at least not until I put my curiosity to rest. I guess I wasn’t too surprised that I’d come to that conclusion. Margaret’s seed had taken root and was sprouting.

I had managed to save nearly a thousand dollars working part-time at the convenience store, but I knew that wouldn’t last long. Airfare would take up a big chunk of that and, for once, I was really glad that I didn’t have that many things. Everything I owned could easily be packed into a couple of suitcases. It wasn’t as if there were anything keeping me here. If I went to North Carolina and it didn’t work out, I could just go somewhere else, start over in a place where nobody knew who I was, where I could be whoever I wanted to be. Besides there was a little money waiting for me, more than enough to replenish what I would spend getting there, and if the house belonged to me, then there wasn’t anything that anybody could say about my living there.

Who said I even had to see the supposed family that lived in the area? I figured I could ignore them quite as well as they had ignored me over the past few years. Better, in fact. I ended up being so very wrong, but at the time the thought comforted me and helped me steel my will toward a new direction.

I stayed a good deal longer under that tree, making mental to-do lists and planning my next few days. I didn’t think about what I would do once I got to my mother’s house, didn’t think about the family that still lived in the area. Instead, I kept my thoughts filled with the few things I could control: the details of what I needed to do the next day to claim my inheritance.

Before going back to Margaret’s house I stopped by the convenience store to talk to my boss and let him know that there was going to be a change of plans. He was disappointed when I told him I would be moving away and would be unable to work that summer, but he wished me luck and gave me a gruff hug before I left to walk, still barefoot, back down the road to Margaret’s house. It was a strange walk, everything looked different to me, as if it were the last time I would see that road. I was thinking about how vastly different my life would be from then on. I felt that I was on the verge of becoming a new person; that I was about to be reborn.