Leanne Davis - Natalie (Daughters Series #2)

by Natalie (Daughters Series #2)

  I shrug. Understanding it is a hard situation. All of our emotions are stressful and on edge. Seeing the confusion in Emily and Melissa’s eyes, I totally respect Christina’s worry and concern for them. However, her protectiveness toward Jessie seems a little excessive and misplaced. She is the woman who started all this, and Christina feels the need to protect her from it? “I understand. It is very hard. And I could see worrying so much about your sisters.”

  “Sister…” Christina mumbles as she shakes her head. “How do we do this? We’re strangers, yet our biology says we’re sisters. Do we ignore that? Or deal with it? I have no idea what to do.”

  “I don’t either.” We all four stare at each other. Our faces express the strain and confusion that clearly pervades all of our thoughts. I’m older and an adult and all that, so I imagine this has to be doubly hard on the younger two. Christina isn’t handling it all that well either.

  “We deal with it,” Melissa says finally, seeming to take control for us.

  Christina and I are kind of eyeing each other up, trying to figure out who is more dominant. It’s obvious neither of us are shrinking violets. It seems like such an anomaly when I think of Christina at the time she first found me. She didn’t know what to say to me and was hopelessly tongue–tied. The girl I’m seeing now is nothing like the girl I first met; she isn’t Christina at all. This Christina knows exactly what she thinks and feels and, I’m guessing, usually speaks with polished articulation and confidence.

  “I think we deal with it. I think we don’t ignore it. We don’t fight. We talk. We get to know each other, and see what happens.” Melissa’s gaze meets all of ours as she speaks.

  “I agree,” Emily utters for the first time. She has a low, almost soothing voice. When she finally chooses to speak, she reminds me of someone that people naturally follow and listen to easily. Perhaps she only speaks when she feels sure and ready, and has something important to say. Christina’s eyebrows are raised in obvious surprise. I doubt if Melissa is usually the leader. Christina is. That much is far beyond obvious. She’s the mother hen here. Not only to the sisters, but also to Jessie.

  “I think we need to. You can’t just leave now, Natalie. We just met you and learned about each other! We can’t go back to how we were three hours ago, like it never happened. You two might have tried to do it, but here we are. There’s too much curiosity on both sides. There’s too much still unknown. If we don’t try now than when? After I’m eighteen and decide to find you? Because that’s what I’ll do. If we don’t do this now, I’ll come after you later. Or Emily will… or just… shit! We’re sisters! What the hell does that mean? Don’t we owe it to ourselves to find out?”

  Melissa swears a lot; but I’m a little surprised and impressed by the teen’s logic. It’s pretty mature for one of so few years. Then Emily nods, and Christina finally follows before they all three look at me. The decision rests on my shoulders now. They are a unit. Used to each other. They share an entire childhood and history together. There is no room for me. Is it me against them? Or me with them? I don’t know.

  “I guess the curiosity would drive me nuts. So yeah, I guess. But how do we do that?”

  “You stay longer than just for dinner,” Christina says. “I’m all done with school. Formerly scheduled to come home for the summer in three days. I’m home now. You stay through next weekend. That’s just over a week. Can we give this a chance? Can you spare the time of a normal vacation so we can try and make up for a lifetime of separation?”

  “What? You mean stay here?” Oh hell no! I am NOT trapping myself here with strangers who are now seeking something from me. I don’t need their judgment. Or their answers. There is absolutely no way I’m staying at their house.

  “How else will you ever do this? You’re old. You live far away from here. If we don’t spend time together now, nothing will come of this encounter! You know that as well as I do.” Christina’s eyebrows are raised and furrowed. Is she challenging me?

  “I’m pretty confused. I thought you didn’t want me coming here.”

  “I don’t know what I want. But I think Melissa’s right. I can’t decide for them. And I guess, yeah, I want to find out too if sharing the same mother means anything? Or are we forever destined to just be strangers? Whatever. Obviously, we can’t make you stay; but it seems like the most logical thing to do. You must have earned vacation time or you wouldn’t have come all this way. Not without Sam. Where is he, anyway?” Her gaze returns to my face. I am careful to make all the muscles in my face stay lax. I don’t scrunch it up, or shut my eyes for even a split second of recoil from thinking about why Sam isn’t with me. Keeping my voice casual, I say, “He had to travel for work, so it seemed like a good time for me to do this.”

  “This? As in, come and find us? So you found us... now stay.”

  She is a dynamic force; I’ll give Christina that. From scowling and angry to pressuring me now to stay here? I’m surprised by her rapid flip around. Sighing, she seems to deflate as she leans back against the barn wall. “I’m the oldest. Until you entered our lives, I was always the oldest sister. I guess I resent knowing that my sisters met you before I could be here to introduce you to them. I’m protective. Of them. Of Mom. But, yes, I did want to know you. When I first found out about you, that’s all I wanted. To meet you. And talk to you. To see if there was this instant ‘Oh, my God! We’re sisters!’ connection. Obviously, life doesn’t work that way. You were nothing like I pictured, yet so much more. And now, here we are. All together. And all unsure about what it means. Even separate from each other, we all seem to agree it means something. So stay. Let’s see if it does.”

  Emily discreetly and very shyly keeps lifting her eyes to mine. She was nodding upon hearing Christina’s impassioned speech and still glancing at me with a hopeful, but weary expression. She has no idea what to think, or feel, or say about my presence and my unforeseen existence. I bet she is not only intrigued, but also totally freaked out. I represent her mother’s huge, lifelong secret. A shocking secret that is far reaching. A horrible secret that involves sex; and what kid could ever stomach imagining such things about her own mother? I get that. I really do. I also see their point. There was something compelling me to find them. And now that I’m here, they feel the same way about me. Even Christina’s rather psychotic switch from being desperate to know me to distrusting me to what she is now, I see why she feels that way. She doesn’t want her sisters getting hurt.

  “I can stay through next weekend,” I answer simply.

  “Here? You’ll stay here?”

  Here? As in their house? No. That’s too much. And their mother isn’t inviting me, the kids are.

  “No. At a motel close by.”

  “Nothing is that close to us. There is a small guest apartment over Dad’s shop. It would be private, but at least, we’d all be here together.”

  “You need to ask your mother first.”

  Christina shakes her head. “No, I don’t need to. She’ll do whatever I believe is best.”

  There is no waffling for Christina. She seems pretty confident that she knows exactly what her mother thinks, feels and would do for her. No doubt in her mind at all. The other two girls nod. Same self–assurance. I’m a little thrown off by the sudden invite and their visible confidence.

  “Maybe.”

  “Why don’t we go back for dinner?”

  We stand there another moment, all of us sizing each other up. When I finally nod, so do they. These three strangers who are my sisters.

  ****

  Dinner is difficult and strange because I feel clumsy and awkward. They all have defined roles here. They all know each other so well and play off each other. There is mutual respect, caring, humor, sarcasm, and annoyance. Max acts like a big brother to the girls; and he is fully at ease with Jessie and Will. Christina knows her place. Jessie is quiet, but respectful, and Will keeps glancing her way. I also notice him touching her arm, her shoulder, or her leg in silen
t support as he passes her, or while sitting beside her. He’s probably the easiest one to be with. His questions are sincere and they convey his interest without grilling me, or sounding inappropriate.

  I soon learn that he served in the Army Special Forces; Jessie has a sister living in the area, Max’s adoptive parents; and she was once mayor of the town. I discover where Christina and Max go to school and learn that Emily is a good writer, while Melissa likes to draw.

  I learn personal facts. Quirks. All the niceties. I find out most about them, however, by watching them interact. I notice the subtleties that define and nurture people’s relationships. The real stuff. I don’t miss that Christina and Will are both worried about how Jessie is handling my presence. And it seems a little more than just typical concern. It seems like they are watching out for her physical well-being. The younger two girls, of course, don’t sense any of these intricacies. They talk around and over their mom with total teenage, clueless apathy. They don’t worry about her. I also believe Will and Jessie are authentic in their feelings toward each other.

  I tell them where I live and work and answer their generic questions about how I grew up. I don’t elaborate in detail. I don’t see any reason to. Dinner ends and I offer to help, but Jessie waves me off.

  I finally step outside for a breather. Fresh country air and stars that go on forever overwhelm my already overburdened senses. After a few minutes, Jessie steps outside and comes over to me. She breathes in deeply as she leans against the deck railing.

  “The girls told me they invited you to stay. For a week.”

  “Yes, but don’t worry; I won’t.”

  She is quiet for a long, intense moment. The air between us feels cooler than the air around us. “I think maybe you should.”

  “You’re just saying that for them.”

  “Yes.” She nods as she raises her shoulders in a half shrug, and her gaze drifts upwards to the myriad stars. “I am saying it for them. They want to explore and try to define whatever this is. I think you need to do that too.”

  “You don’t really care what I need. They don’t see it, but I do. There is a distinct coolness coming from you. A hands–off feeling that you will merely tolerate all of this for the three daughters that you do love.”

  She sighs and shakes her head. “No, it’s a shame actually. It’s not that I don’t want you staying here, or don’t want to know you. Imagine the most shameful thing you’ve ever done. Well, imagine that baby as an adult, now with thoughts, opinions and feelings. I gave up my rights to all of that long ago. It was a shameful thing I did.”

  “You didn’t regret it though. I don’t think you regretted it for even a second.”

  She briefly holds my gaze, then turns to survey the empty land beyond the deck. “You’re perceptive. Smart. And you want honesty. I get that from you. No bullshit. I don’t know what I feel. I did something that I believed I had no other choice but to do at the time. I banished it from my mind although it never ceased to hurt my heart. But as time passed, things eventually get released and forgotten as life moves on. And, Natalie, that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It means, quite frankly, I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “I don’t know.” Her tone is direct and simple.

  “Did you ever wonder about me?”

  “No. Yes. Always.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means a day didn’t pass without me thinking about what I did. But I firmly believed, no matter what, that you were better off than you’d be with me and what little I could have given to you.”

  “You don’t seem like an awful mother,” I grumble. I’m unwilling to explain or elaborate my shock over the quality mother she seems to be.

  “I was by the time I had Christina. But not when I had you. I changed a lot. In ways you can’t comprehend.”

  “But you never felt the urge to look for me?”

  She stands up to her full height, turns to me, clasping her hands in front of her stomach and says simply, “No. I never felt the urge to find you.”

  It feels a bit like she punched me in the lungs. My stomach churns, and my heart lodges in my throat. Now I feel like she smacked me in both places. That is so mean! My mother is standing here before me, the woman who donated half my DNA, and gave birth to me, yet she didn’t even wonder about me. She didn’t care if my life turned out all right. Or if I were safe. Perhaps that’s what happens in typical adoptions, but she seems like such a good mother to her three other daughters. It doesn’t make sense to me.

  “But I think you should stay. Please. I think it’s important to all of you girls. Barring me. You don’t have to associate with me. You don’t have to even talk to me. I get why you’d prefer not to. But I think the girls and you need to figure out what this revelation means to you four, collectively and also individually.”

  “You mean, please don’t start seeking you out for a heart–to–heart or any kind of bonding.” I raise my eyebrows in a serious dare. I hate knowing she doesn’t want something more from me. No matter how tough I pretend to act, I really can’t believe she has absolutely no interest in me.

  “I don’t know what propelled you to come here. But since you have… stay. It’s only a week. It’s not forever. You’ll have plenty of privacy. And you’ll also have an opportunity to explore and understand your collective kinship.”

  I stare past her and cross my arms over my chest. I tower over her by about five inches. “I don’t have a blessed, goddamned idea what any of this is for, or what it means, if anything.”

  She nods. “I know. I think we all feel that way.”

  “We’re strangers.”

  “We are also connected. Stay. Find out.”

  I shrug. Why not? What have I to lose? I have my stuff in my car and they have a private apartment. Why the hell not?

  Except that this woman beside me is an enigma that I can’t begin to figure out or understand. She asks me to stay, yet I really believe in my gut she doesn’t want me to. Then why ask me to stay? I don’t get it. But maybe, my staying here is the perfect punishment for her, and one which she deserves. It would be so much easier on her if I refused to stay and just left and went back to where I came from. I straighten my stance and push my shoulders back. Screw Jessie Hendricks! I’ll take pleasure in their hospitality for a week, especially if all I accomplish is making her endure my continued presence. I’m the baby she rejected. And never wondered about. And never would have come looking for. But surprise! Here I am.

  Chapter Nine

  Sam

  Showering helps. I don’t stink anymore. My breath is still sour, but I hope enough mouthwash and tooth brushing will change that. Dustin folded and added to the clothes I threw into my duffel bag. I dress in my suit pants and button–up shirt, no tie or jacket. My confidence slowly starts to return as I shave, groom and wear the clothes I once used as a shield, pretending to navigate this new world I occupied, worked and socialized in. These clothes that formerly allowed me to pretend I was totally comfortable and successful.

  Dustin nods and stares at me. He could have turned on me. I nod back. I owe him. “Could you tell Mom for me? She’ll need to know. Especially since I’ll be gone. I don’t know how long I’ll be. I can’t—”

  “No, Sam, I won’t tell them. You need to.”

  Right. My mess. I have the work to do. I nod. Dustin adds, “There’s a flight to Spokane, Washington leaving tonight at eight. If you hurry, you can make it. From there, you can take a smaller plane to a small airport not far from there. Or you can drive.”

  I can make it. I can’t wait. A rush of feelings I’ve never had overcomes me. Purpose. Commitment. Hope. Fear. Anxiety. Helplessness. I’ve never really felt the last ones before. What didn’t go my way? Not much in my life.

  But now? Everything is wrong. And it’s all my own doing. “I’ll hurry. I’ll call Mom and Dad… and Dustin? Thank you. I might not deserve it, but I really needed someone to help me today.”r />
  “You don’t often need it. I’d never deny you that. No matter what, you have to know that.”

  I shake the hand he puts out before grabbing the suitcase and my wallet and leaving.

  Later, I land at a small airport, and all my clothes are in my carry–on. I feel free and unencumbered as I hastily hire a rental car with GPS. I have to find my wife in a place I’ve never heard of. I drive until I enter a small town that looks more like a flat stretch of pancake. It’s nothing like the steep, hilly city streets of San Francisco, wafting its cool bay air and fresh, salty scents. Here it is endless sky, not ocean.

  My wife could be here… or not. It’s crazy that I came here. I start to realize that while cruising on Interstate 90. It’s a pretty easy drive of straight–a–ways and light traffic so my mind wanders. She could be anywhere. She might not even be here. She could have already come and gone. Even if I find the town, I already discerned the population is less than twenty thousand people. Still, there are lots of places to look for one Christina Hendricks. Of course, there are other, more efficient ways to find someone, but I haven’t had the time to try that yet. I might have to do just that. Lacking confidence, and with nothing else to lose, I drive on towards Ellensburg with absolutely no real destination in mind.

  ****

  “Aren’t you Sam Ford?” Hearing my name, I whip around, completely astounded, almost jumping with shock. My recognition of the voice behind me is instantaneous: the kid with Christina, Max. He’s staring at me and his eyes seem interested, yet not all that surprised. His slight hesitation, and because he’s not totally shocked, tells me he must have seen Natalie. Quite recently, Natalie probably met him again. I order my voice to stay calm and casual. I dare not express my complete and utter excitement that I could be close. I might find her. My crazy–ass idea just might work. I was walking listlessly around the tiny main part of town, the college district. Spotting a small coffee shop, it seems the most logical place where people would eventually spend their time in a small town. So I go there. And low and behold, I am recognized.