Chapter 22
“So, Gage tells us you’re looking for a private investigator,” Bill said from across the large farm style table with the remains of the delicious Thanksgiving meal spread across.
Carly nodded as she swallowed her last bite of the delicious turkey and dressing and gazed at the kind man who Gage obviously took after–both in looks and manners. Taking a drink of the wine she’d brought in place of a cooked dish, she cleared her throat. “Yes, I do, and I appreciate you talking to your friend for me.”
“Well, we’re happy to help,” Bill replied, reaching over for his wife’s hand.
“We’re so sorry you’ve had to go through what you did,” Joyce added, squeezing her husband’s hand then letting go to reach for her wine glass.
Pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket, Gage’s dad removed a white business card and handed it over to Carly.
“Thank you,” Carly said, taking the card from his outstretched hand. She fingered the black lettering which read:
Charles Griffin Private Investigative Services
Below the thick black lettering were two numbers–one for an office and a mobile for emergencies.
“Be sure and give Charles a call tomorrow,” Bill said. He leaned back in his chair, the light from the floor to ceiling windows behind him highlighting his snowy gray hair Carly knew from the pictures lining the hallway near the front door had once been blond like Gage’s.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother him during the holidays,” Carly said, slipping the small rectangular card, which had the distinct possibility of getting rid of the biggest mistake of her life, into her back jeans pocket.
“Yes, I’m sure. Charlie’s expecting your call and said he’s more than happy to see what he can do to help,” Bill replied as he rubbed his stomach and turned to his wife. “Where’s that pumpkin pie you promised?”
“Hold your horses, mister. Let me clear some of the dishes off the table,” Joyce laughed as she stood and reached for his plate.
Carly smiled also standing. “Let me help,” she said as she leaned over for Gage’s and Jonathan’s empty plates.
“Thank you, dear,” Joyce said, her sincerity shining in her blue eyes.
Following behind as Joyce led the way over to the sink in the large open family, dining, and kitchen space. Carly blinked back tears as a tingling warmth filled her limbs that Gage’s parents had welcomed her with open arms and didn’t seem bothered in the least by the situation with her ex-husband.
“Thank you for inviting me today,” Carly said as she placed the stack of plates and silverware on the beige and gray granite countertop.
“We’re glad to have you,” Joyce replied as Carly handed over another plate to rinse.
“I’m sorry I’m bringing all my problems to Gage and the rest of you,” Carly whispered, ducking her head and tracing a finger along the mottled pattern of the counter.
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Joyce said fiercely, grabbing Carly’s hand. “Nothing you’ve been through is your fault. I’m glad my son found you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, and I’m pretty sure most of it is because of you.”
As she brought her eyes back up, Carly’s heart swelled at the warmth in the steel-blue eyes so much like Gage’s as she returned the gentle squeeze of Joyce’s damp hand.
“Thank you,” she choked out, swiping a stray tear from her eye with her free hand.
“You’re welcome. We better get that pie dished out before we have a riot on our hands,” Joyce said as she placed the last dish into the dishwasher.