Let It Be Me by Becky Wade (top young adult novels .TXT) 📕

“Football’s cool,” Dylan said. “It’s just hard. You know?”

“I’m sure it is.”

She often thought about how much Dylan had aged in comparison to the Dylan she’d known four years, six years, twelve years ago. But in comparison to Sebastian, Dylan seemed incredibly young. The two of them might as well belong to different species.

Dylan scratched the side of his face. “Have you been doing a lot of . . . surgeries?”

“Quite a few, yes.”

“Anybody die?”

“Not since I saw you last.”

“Sweet. If they’re still alive they might . . . stay that way.”

“That’s the plan.”

Dylan’s vision landed on Leah. “A couple of my friends are gonna come over later.”

“Who?”

He rattled off the names of four kids she knew well.

“What are you guys going to do?” she asked.

“Snort cocaine.” Dylan gave her the first genuine grin she’d seen out of him all day.

“Absolutely no cocaine, any other kind of drug, alcohol, or girls.”

He pretended astonishment.

“Movies are fine.” She’d set parental controls. “So are the video games we already own.”

“What about board games?” Sebastian asked her wryly.

“More like bored games,” Dylan answered, taking a clunky stab at humor.

“Board games are allowed. As are puzzles. You can cook anything except meth. And, of course, arts and crafts are always a wholesome option.”

“They could make jewelry,” Sebastian suggested, deadpan.

“Or tie-dye shirts,” Leah said.

“They could color.”

“Or do macramé.”

Dylan shook his head and took a few steps back. “Can I, uh . . .” He gestured to his room. “Go now?”

Delightful child. Such an open, winning, sunny personality. “Yes.”

Dylan stopped just in front of his room and looked back. “I told my sister to go out with you a while ago, Dr. Grant.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“She shot down the idea.” He rolled his eyes. “I wish I’d bet her money on it. I’d be richer.” Then he was gone.

“I really like your brother,” Sebastian said.

Did he know that the statement had just scored him a thousand points?

“And I really like your place,” he continued. “What’s your favorite thing about it?”

“I’m a fan of this architectural style, but my absolute favorite thing about it is the view.” They stopped side by side in front of the enormous plate glass living room window. The sun had recently set. Clouds of pink, peach, and moody lavender capped the dimming hills. “I’m endlessly fascinated with this view. It’s different every hour of the day and every season of the year.” She peeked at him and found that he was already looking down at her.

“Beautiful,” he said.

Fireflies took flight within her. She needed to remember that she’d agreed to this date in order to bring a halt to the flood of gifts.

They made their way to his Mercedes, and he drove them to a restaurant located inside a winery in neighboring White County. Smooth white stucco walls and a ceiling crisscrossed with timbers the size of tree trunks surrounded them as they took their time over appetizers at the bar.

Eventually, a hostess escorted them to a linen-covered table near a cavernous fireplace. A creamy mix of firelight, can lights, and flickering candlelight covered everyone in the dining room with a warm glow. Beyond the windows, tidy rows of grapevines snaked into the darkness. Her napkin was so heavy she could wear it as a shawl. The tiny ceramic pot adjacent the salt and pepper shakers held mums, ivy, and red berries.

Leah had enjoyed a few fancy dinners in her lifetime. But every one of those meals had been underlain with the wincing knowledge of the expense, which inevitably made her wonder whether the experience was worth the price.

Sebastian didn’t seem to care about the costs involved. Since he’d lobbied for this date so relentlessly, it served him right to get stuck with the bill. Brazenly, she ordered salmon.

It arrived glistening beneath a buttery sauce. Braised red cabbage dotted with goat cheese and smashed fingerling potatoes crusted with big granules of salt completed the dish.

The deliciousness of the first bite liquefied her spine.

“What’s the latest with your search into your birth family?” Sebastian asked, cutting into his steak.

“I met them.”

His motion paused. “What?”

She brought him up to speed on how she’d found the Brooksides and the brief exchange they’d shared at church.

“That must have been strange,” he said. “To introduce yourself to them as if you were a stranger.”

“To them, I am a stranger.”

“But to you, they’re much more than that.”

“True. At present, I’m trying to understand how Sophie and I were switched. In fact . . .” She considered him speculatively. “You might be able to help me.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

She drew her brows together. “Would you please refrain from making statements like that?”

“Statements like what?”

“Statements that can be construed as epically . . . romantic.” She said romantic the way one would say swamp.

“I’ll try.”

“You might be able to help me by explaining the differentiation of responsibilities of the nurses who cared for me right after I was born.”

“As I recall, you were immediately taken to the postpartum nursery.”

“Yes.”

“So it’s very likely two distinct groups of nurses were involved. The nurses assigned to labor and delivery and the nurses assigned to the nursery.”

“Would I have been taken to the nursery by the labor and delivery nures?”

“Yes.”

“What would have occurred then?”

“The nurses assigned to the nursery and the staff pediatrician would have treated you.”

“On my paperwork, I found the names of two labor and delivery nurses and two nursery nurses. I’m researching all four of them in hopes of gaining a more complete picture of the circumstances.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Leah dabbed her lips evasively.

“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he reiterated.

“If I do, I’ll be more indebted to you.”

“Good. That will benefit my evil master plan.” He gave her a slightly wicked smile.

“Let’s talk about you now,” she said.

“Let’s not.”

“I might not be a dating expert—” she began.

“I think you are,” he cut in. “This is the best date I’ve ever had.”

“You are not allowed to make epically romantic statements!”

Sebastian laughed, then took an unrepentant sip of his drink.

“I might not be a