Chapter Eight

I stared at Ryan in disbelief.

"What's wrong? Hope?" Ryan asked. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

"You father is Fred Jamieson?" I asked slowly. It couldn't be true; he had to be talking about a different person. He must have gotten the name wrong or something.

"Yes, do you know him?" he asked.

"You could say that," I said. I stood up and went to the door. The rush of cool air that hit me when I stepped out of the restaurant snapped me out of my daze. Ryan's father was my mother's uncle? Did that make us cousins?

"Hope! What's wrong?" Ryan called out. I was already walking quickly towards the hotel. I had to talk to Greg right away. He would know what to do.

There's nothing you can do, I thought in dismay. If Ryan is telling the truth then that makes the two of you cousins. I suddenly realized that I had a small crush on Ryan forming. Now that crush had been shattered into a million pieces.

"Hope!" Ryan said. He was right beside me now. Almost running to keep up with my brisk walk.

I stopped abruptly. I didn't even notice it was the middle of the road I was standing in. A car honked loudly and someone yelled out their window when they had to swerve around us. Another car screeched to a stop and the driver honked loudly.

"C'mon we have to get out of the way," Ryan said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the road.

"Watch where you are going you lunatics!" someone yelled from their car.

"Get lost!" Ryan yelled. The car drove away.

"Fred Jamieson is who Greg and I are going to visit, he is supposedly my great uncle," I told Ryan. His confused expression didn't change.

"Supposedly?" he asked.

"It's a long story," I said. I started to walk again towards the hotel room. I hoped that Greg was in the room and not somewhere else sulking.

"I have time," Ryan said catching up to walk beside me.

"Well, I don't," I told him. I was going to get Greg and we were going to leave tonight. I was disappointed that Ryan and I were related. I just wanted to get out of this town and get some answers from Fred. All I wanted right now were answers.

Finally I made it to the room and pushed opened the door. Greg was lying on his bed watching Touched By An Angel. He scowled at me when he saw Ryan come into the room behind me. I stared at him for a minute.

"What?" he asked.

"Ryan says Fred is his father," I said. Greg's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"How?" he managed to choke out.

"What do you mean how?" Ryan asked, "Didn't you ever take sex ed?"

I shot him a don't-push-your-luck look and turned back to Greg.

"Well I don't think this changes anything Hope, do you?" Greg asked. He looked at me questioningly. I was silent for a minute.

"No," I answered. I didn't want to tell Greg that I had been starting to like Ryan. I didn't want to hurt Greg in any way. I knew that Greg loved me, I just didn't know in what ways.

"Okay, see you tomorrow morning at eight Ryan," Greg turned the volume on the television back up and leaned back on the headboard.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow Hope," Ryan said. He squeezed my arm reassuringly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I got dressed for bed and got under the covers. I didn't need to pack my clothes because I hadn't unpacked them for the one night we were going to be here. I tried to watch the repeating episodes of Touched By An Angel but my mind kept wandering to Ryan. I guess I should have been grateful that we hadn't become more than friends before finding out that we were related. And looking on the bright side, I still had Greg.

I woke up the next morning to the sounds of Greg in the shower. I got up quickly and got dressed. I was nervous about what the day would bring. We were going to London today to meet my great uncle and Ryan's father. But Fred Jamieson wasn't what I was worried about right now. I wanted to know how Greg really felt about Ryan coming with us. He had seemed okay about it last night but he was known to hold in his feelings and not tell anyone what he was really thinking.

"Good morning," Greg said when he came out of the bathroom. He looked a lot happier now then he had last night. Maybe the good night's sleep had put him in a better mood. I was grateful for that, because I just wasn't in the mood for his whining all day.

"I guess Ryan'll be here soon," he said. He didn't have a sour look on his face when he said Ryan's name. He seemed fine that he would be coming with us.

"Yep," I answered. There was a knock at the door.

Greg answered it to find Ryan standing there with a duffle bag in his hand.

"Good morning," Greg said. Ryan smiled. He looked over Greg's shoulder and grinned at me. "Hey Hope," he said.

Greg's smile got a little tighter but he didn't storm away or say anything nasty, which is what he normally would have done.

I smiled at him and grabbed by bag, "Lets get out of here," I said. I was eager to get on the road and put this town behind me.

We all squished into the front seat of the pickup truck, with me in the middle. It was a little tight for space but it wasn't too bad. For the first fifteen minutes on the road, no one spoke. The air was heavy and stifling. After awhile it almost felt like I was suffocating.

"So, Ryan.. what's is your mother's name?" I asked.

"Lola," he answered, "What's your mother's name?" he asked. I stared at him a minute trying to tell if he was mocking me, he seemed to really want to know her name though.

"Skye," I said.

We stopped talking again and I didn't make another effort at conversation. I just wanted to get to London. We stopped a couple times for food and gas but finally we saw the sign: WELCOME TO LONDON.

"Are we going straight there?" I asked.

"Might as well," Greg answered. My heart jumped into my throat at the thought of meeting Fred. This was going to be so strange. I didn't know what to expect as we pulled into his driveway. The house was very small with a tiny square yard in front of the house. There was a two-step porch and the screen door had a huge tear in it. The front door was bright blue with a white trim. It looked like it had just been painted. There were blue shutters that matched the door and white siding. The front lawn looked well cared for.

"Here we go," Ryan said. We all got out of the truck and went up to ring the doorbell. No one answered so Greg knocked hard. Suddenly the door was yanked open and a very old looking man stood behind the screen looking out at us. He had a lot of wrinkles and his hair was totally gray. He stood a little stooped over but he smiled when he saw us.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Hello, Fred Jamieson?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I'm Hope Cartwright, my mother is Skye." I said.

Fred stared out at us for a minute before opening the door and stepping aside to let us come in. We went inside and following Fred into a tiny living room with an old looking couch and huge overstuffed chair that seemed to take up the whole room. Greg, Ryan and I all crowded on to the couch while Fred sat on the chair.

"Does your mother know you are here?" Fred asked.

I shook my head, "No, it's a long story," I told him.

"You know your real father is Derek," she said. I sat there shocked that he knew the truth. Maybe my mother had told him more in her letters than I thought.

".Yes," I said.

"I knew it would come out eventually but she is so stubborn, she wouldn't tell you," he said, leaning back in the chair.

"Fred, I want you to meet Greg Cartwright, my cousin and Ryan Munro," I said.

"Yes, I've heard all about you Greg, it's nice to finally meet you," Fred said. He had a glitter in his eyes that made me believe that he was truly happy to see us. He must have been so lonely here all by himself only getting letters from my mother once in awhile. He didn't seem to recognize Ryan at all.

"Mr. Jamieson, did you know Lola Munro?" Ryan asked finally.

"Yes, I did," he said. He looked closer at Ryan but still didn't seem to recognize anything about him.

"I am her son," Ryan said.

"Is that so? How is she?" he asked.

"Dead," Ryan answered. I looked over at him. He hadn't told me his mother was dead. He had a blank look on his face. He was waiting to see if Fred would clue in to what he was trying to tell him.

"Oh, that's too bad, she was a nice woman," Fred said. He didn't understand what Ryan was getting at.

"She told me you are my father," Ryan finally just said it.

Fred stared at him blankly. Then he shook his head sadly, "I'm so sorry, but that isn't true," he said.

I felt Ryan stiffen beside me.

"I can't have children, you can't be my son, I am sterile," Fred explained. He had a sad look on his face. Maybe he wished that Ryan really were his son, that he had some family that could keep him company.

"But.But, why would my mother lie to me?" Ryan asked out loud. His voice cracked.

No one said anything. Ryan took a deep breath and I felt so sorry for him at that moment. His mother was dead and he didn't know who his father was. I put my arm around him and squeezed him tightly. I didn't want Ryan to be hurt. I could see tears in his dark brown eyes. I glanced over at Greg and saw he had a hard, angry look on his face.

"I'm so sorry," Fred said again.

"Fred, do you mind if we stay here a few days, we would like to talk to you about some things," Greg said. He was ignoring that fact that Ryan had just found out a very devastating thing. Fred looked back at Greg, "Certainly, I would love to have guests, I don't get them very often," he said. You can stay in the extra room and here on the pull out couch, on one condition,"

"What's that?" Greg asked.

"You call your parents and tell them your are here," he said.

I looked at Greg. I could tell he wasn't happy with that, but what choice did we have?

"Okay," Greg said.