Cursing, I dropped it into Mo’s hands.
Tex chuckled. “Trace totally just proved her true heritage right there. I swear if I had a dollar for every time my ma smacked the back of my head—”
Mo did the honors that time, making Tex almost spill his wine as he caught himself against the table.
Tracey followed Mo to the breakfast bar, where Mo dug through her purse. She pulled out something small, and then fit it into the lock. Three seconds later she was dangling the leather book in front of my face. “You were saying?”
“Girls rule, boys drool?” I offered sarcastically as I snatched the book from Mo and turned to the first page.
“ ‘Secrets are hidden in our past—they define our future. This, my love, is our story. In these pages you will find all you need to know. All there is to know. Always my love—Grams.’ ”
“Well.” I turned the page. “That wasn’t cryptic.”
Everyone was silent as I turned to the next page and read aloud. “ ‘I saw him across the room—’ ”
Tex groaned.
Laughing, I continued. “ ‘I shouldn’t have looked, but I couldn’t help myself. He wasn’t mine to stare at, yet I was still staring. And I knew… I would have him and damn your grandfather to hell. Damn him for keeping it from me, and damn him for buying my silence. I would be with this man, I would get back at the Alferos in the name of my family’s honor—They destroyed what I had, and because of them, I refuse to keep my silence any longer.’ ”
I swallowed and closed the book. “Shit.”
“Maybe this isn’t the best thing to be reading…” Trace tried to grab the book but I snatched it away.
“We’ll read every damn page. Together, okay? But we need to know what she knew, Trace. I know we’re grasping at straws, but unless Phoenix talks or someone confesses, it’s all we have.”
Her gaze flickered to Tex’s, Mo’s, and finally Chase’s. He nodded at me and then placed his hand on Trace’s. “Nixon’s right.”
“Okay.” She squeezed his hand and then turned to me. “But we read it together, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
The book may as well have been a guest of honor. It sat on the table the rest of dinner earning curious stares from everyone, Trace included.
Finally, once we were done eating, I grabbed the book and nodded toward the wine. “Might as well make it a party.”
“Thank God,” Mo whispered. “I’m not sure I can make it through dirty laundry without wine and I know Trace is gonna need it. It’s her grandmother, after all.”
Trace smiled but didn’t laugh. We walked into the living room and sat down, each of us with a glass of wine.
“Who wants to read it?”
“I vote Chase.” This from Mo. “He always got straight A’s in reading class and I’ve always wondered why the teachers found his voice so alluring…”
“I was seven.” Chase glared.
“He started so young.” Tex put a hand over his heart. “Now read, bitch. I have a seven a.m. lab to look forward to.”
“Right away.” Chase saluted and picked up where I’d left off. “ ‘I followed him with every intention of propositioning him. I wanted to feel desire. Perhaps, the De Lange right hand man could give it to me?’ ” Chase choked and closed his eyes. “Yeah, feeling like a perv right about now.”
“Read!” everyone yelled in unison.
Chase cleared his throat and kept reading, “ ‘He went outside. He lit his cigar in the shadows, and then I saw another person walk up. They exchanged pleasantries about the weather, and then he was handed an envelope. I remember thinking it was so strange, to be handed an envelope and not examine what was inside first? It meant they trusted one another. I had no way of knowing that the next day he would be dead. Nor that it meant my own husband would be blamed. My shame was exposed for all to see, for I had to tell everyone what I’d seen and why I saw it. I did not think he would ever forgive me. But he did and that’s why I’m writing this story. To explain forgiveness to you, Trace. So you understand, that when you read the final chapter of this story, it does not mean the end for your family or for his. It is okay for you to love him.’ ”
Shaking, Chase set down the book and laughed awkwardly. “Um, any chance your grandma was psychic or something?”
Trace’s mouth was still hanging open. “Um, no, no chance. What the hell?”
“Alzheimer’s?” Chase pleaded, ignoring Trace’s question.
“No.”
“High? Was she high a lot?”
“Chase!” I smacked him. “Seriously?”
“How else would she know?” Chase pointed at the book. “How else would she know about you—”
“That’s just the thing,” Mo piped in. “How do we know it’s Nixon she’s talking about? And not Tex? Chase? Any guy?”
“Good point.” I licked my lips and watched as Chase’s eyes lit up. Oh, hell no. “But”—I cleared my throat—“chances are, she’s just saying ‘him’ as an example, right? I mean, who knows.” Chase handed the book back to Trace.
“Right,” Trace whispered and held the journal close to her body. “I think we should all… go to bed. Maybe reading that first entry will help me remember?”