All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

she’ll have to be someone really special.”

A statement I wouldn’t—couldn’t—discount. Molly had turned my head. But it was the turn she’d been making to my heart all summer long that had been far more significant. And yet, I couldn’t quite believe my practical mother had driven all the way here on the off chance she’d catch a glimpse of my adorable new friend, as she’d called her.

“That can’t be the only reason you drove all the way out here—to tell me about the events of family dinner?”

My mother’s elation drained in a matter of seconds, leaving behind a tension as unsettling as her answer. “You’re right, it’s not the only reason I came.”

“Then what? Is it Dad? He said his cardiology appointment was routine only.”

“It’s not about your father, Silas. It’s . . . well, it’s something I need to show you—to give you—in person.”

She reached into her SUV and retrieved a letter, one with handwriting I recognized. She set it in my hands, and immediately my insides were at war.

“What is this?”

“Carlos wrote a letter to your father and me. It arrived three days ago, and we’ve been praying about what to do with it.” She touched my hand reassuringly. “We felt it was time for you to make a decision for yourself. Not just with this one letter, but with all of them.”

How was it possible for my mother to shock me twice in the same ten-minute period?

“All of what?”

She turned back to her car once more and took out a shoebox. “This box is full of the letters your brother wrote you while he was in prison. They arrived steadily, at least one a month for the past three years. I know you told me to toss anything that came for you, but . . . I couldn’t do that, Silas. We were all so angry at the time he was sentenced, but even still, I couldn’t throw them away, not when you’d lost so much history with him already.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “There may be a time you’ll need these. I’m not telling you to read them today or even next week. But you’ll know when the time is right. And whenever that day comes, I’d simply ask that you start here first.” She touched the letter in my hand as my mind became a tangle of bitter memories too painful to revisit.

I studied the box still clutched in her hands. “Have you read them?”

“Not these, no.”

I nodded, too stunned to ask any of the multitude of questions that raged inside me.

“I love you, Silas. You’ve been on a journey only few can understand, and yet you’ve made me so proud to be your mother. So very, very proud.” She placed the box in my arms. “This is just one more step, for someday.”

For someday. Two words my mother had used with her kids often. A hope attached to no immediate deadline or pressure. Two words I’d needed often as a boy. And now once again as a grown man.

Though I stored the shoebox of letters in the locked cabinet in my office, their presence couldn’t be concealed so easily. Nearly every hour since I’d come inside, I wondered if and when I would read them. Or if and when I should read them. By noon I left my office, needing a break from the internal monologue inside my head. Molly’s absence across the hall this morning had never been more acutely felt. I was certain she had a good reason for coming in later than usual, and yet I hoped she’d be in soon. And with that thought, an entirely new monologue took over. One that started with the kiss we’d shared in my driveway last night.

As if she’d timed her dramatic entrance perfectly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Molly McKenzie

Hi ?

Silas

How are you?

Molly McKenzie

Smiling

Silas

Last I checked, that’s a verb.

Molly McKenzie

Maybe I’m a verb type of woman.

Silas

Are you planning to grace us with your presence sometime today?

Molly McKenzie

That depends.

Silas

On?

Molly McKenzie

If you’re planning on apologizing for last night.

I read her text three times, trying to translate her meaning.

Silas

Is there something I need to apologize for?

Molly McKenzie

? No. Absolutely not.

I smiled.

Silas

Where are you now?

Molly McKenzie

In the parking lot. I just pulled in. I was trying to prepare myself for what might happen today. In case you decided last night was a complete mistake? I would understand, I mean, if you’d changed your mind. I could respect that. I just wanted a heads-up before I saw you in person.

I didn’t respond because I was already walking, already heading down the hallway, down the stairs, out the front door of the lobby to the cobblestone path where Molly was staring at her phone, waiting for a reply.

I’d give her one.

Her eyes held a hint of surprise as she watched me stride toward her and then stop roughly three feet from where she stood. Aware of the many eyes that could be viewing us from any number of places around campus, I was mindful of the rules I’d set for appropriate conduct between members of the opposite sex. Though I wished for the sake of this moment that I could make a few exceptions to those rules now.

“Because there seems to be some doubt about where I stand, I’ll make it clear. I care about you,” I said. “Quite a lot, actually.”

She blinked, stared. “Same here. About you.”

My fingers twitched at my sides, tempting me to reach out as the breeze blew a long strand of her hair across her pink lips. She slipped it behind her ear, her eyes trained on mine.

“I’m not sorry about last night. Not a single second of it. And if we weren’t currently the focal point of three security cameras, I’d show you just how not sorry I am.”

“You would?”

I smiled. “I would.”

She studied me a few seconds more, then glanced at the house. “So how do we do this, exactly? This whole caring-about-each-other-quite-a-lot thing while working under a roof with a no-kissing-each-other-at-all thing?”

“I’ve