by Shay Savage
“We?”
“Me and my brother, Jay. Your brother, too, of course. We tried to convince her to just let us come and meet you, but she refused. She asked us to wait another year, and of course, she passed away before we had the opportunity.”
“But you didn’t come to her funeral.” I look at her suspiciously. I’ve been duped by these unscrupulous families before. Well, just one member of one family, but still. I am not about to trust her word. “I knew everyone who paid their respects when she died, and you definitely weren’t there.”
“I wanted to come then,” Janna says sadly. “I didn’t know her well, but I know my father—our father—loved Aunt Sofia, and I wanted to be there for you, but we were concerned it would be too much for you too soon. We decided to wait a couple of months to give you time to grieve in peace. The next thing I knew, you’d moved to Cascade Falls and hooked up with…that man.”
“Nate.” I watch Janna wrinkle her nose at the mention of his name.
“Oh, my sweet sister, if only you knew what that family is like!”
“You’re the ones who murdered his brother.”
“Is that what he told you?” She tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes.
“Yes.” I glare at her. “Do you have a different story?”
“You want to know the truth?” Venom seeps into her tone. “It was all in self defense. Micha attacked Jay and tried to kill him.”
“Why would he go after Jay?”
“Why do you think? It was all about you, dear sister.”
“Me?”
“Micha found out about you. He brought us a bunch of information about you, claiming you were a threat to the balance of power in town. He threatened to ‘take care of you,’ which is how the Orsos have always handled their issues, and Jay got angry. I was angry as well, and when we told Micha Orso not to touch you, he just laughed. He and Jay exchanged more words, and then they fought. Micha threw the first punch and pulled out a gun. Yes, Jay did kill him, but it was self-defense.”
“That all sounds a little convenient.” Though part of her story makes sense, given that Micha had a file on me, I’m not quite buying her version.
“I don’t have a secret video recording of the incident, so I can’t prove to you what happened. I was there though. I saw it all.”
“And Micha started it?”
“He absolutely did and not for the first time. There have been fights between our families before, and some have been brutal, but there hadn’t been a death for a long time. I think Carlo knew exactly what happened, and that Micha tried to kill Jay. That’s why he didn’t come after Jay immediately.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.” I bite my lip, wondering if there is any chance what she’s saying could be the truth. Micha did know about me, and it seems as though he took after Carlo Ramsay more so than Nate did. Could Micha have threatened to kill me long before I knew about any of this?
“Do you really think the Orso family would have stepped aside and let us take out the next head of the family unless we had been attacked first? Carlo knew Micha had overstepped and violated the treaty. That’s why he didn’t retaliate.”
“Nate said they didn’t know for sure,” I reply softly, not knowing if anything I heard from him is true or not.
“He lied to you, Cherry. I can’t imagine he wasn’t privy to his brother’s investigation. He likely knew about you before you moved to Cascade Falls. It makes sense, really. With Micha gone, Nataniele decides to woo you instead of killing you. He’s been lying to you the whole time.”
What she’s saying does make some sense, but I have no reason to trust her. In fact, I don’t trust any of them to tell the truth. I don’t know why I keep coming up as the centerpiece of all of this, but I’m tired of it.
I glare at Janna, feeling all the anger I’ve been holding down inside of me boiling to the surface as I stare at her.
“Why, Janna? You seem to know so much about all of this, so tell me why. Why was I sent off to live with my aunt? Why was I never told about the rest of the family? Why have I been hidden for years, and why am I suddenly so interesting to everyone now?”
“Well, that’s a lot of questions!” Janna huffs a breath through her nose and squares her shoulders. “If you’d just come back to Cascade Falls with me, I could tell you everything.”
“Why not here and now?” I narrow my eyes at her, feeling very much like prey in the vicinity of a hungry predator.
“There’s a lot to it, my dear sister. I’d like some time to get to know you. I could even drive us if you—”
“No!” I stand up, hands balled into fists at my side. “I’m not going anywhere with you, and I am not going back to Cascade Falls. I’m sick to death of all the secrets and lies, and I want nothing to do with it. Is that why you really came here, to drag me back to Ohio?”
I watch her closely as she places her hand on her chest and opens her mouth in feigned shock. I’m not buying any of it, and I glare at her until she answers.
“I wanted to meet my sister,” she says. She glances away, licking at her lips.
“Really?” I sneer. “You could have done that years ago.”
“It’s all very complicated.”
“I’m sure.” I keep staring at her.
“This must be a lot for you to take in.” Janna is all smiles again.
It’s all an act.
Whatever smidgen of curiosity I had vanishes. I no longer care about her real reason for being here. Whatever it is, I’m done.
“Well, you’ve met me. You can go now.”
“I won’t keep you,” she says with a soft, melodramatic sigh. “I just hoped you would listen to my side of things.”
“I listened.” I silently escort her to the front door, and she turns to look at me from the porch.
“I know you had a terrible falling out with the Orsos,” Janna says. “With Aunt Sofia gone…well, I didn’t want you to think you were alone in the world. I wanted you to know that I am here for you, as a sister, no matter what you might need. We are family, after all. Isn’t that what you wanted to find?”
I shut the door and lean my back against it, drawing in quick breaths. I’m completely shaken and nauseated by the whole encounter, and it takes me a few minutes to calm myself back down. I’m still fighting tears as I head to the kitchen and open the refrigerator, trying to find something to eat that will settle my stomach, but nothing appeals. I try watching television just to distract myself from thinking about what Janna said, what Nora said, and everything related to Nataniele Orso. It doesn’t work.
Nate.
I miss him. I know I do. All these thoughts of him are making me think about heart-shaped pancakes with maple syrup, peanut butter sandwiches covered in silver domes, and playful cheating during a game of eight-ball. I’m reminded of how much I actually cared about him despite everything that happened.
I wipe tears away from my cheeks and go to the kitchen again. It’s getting late, and I haven’t eaten since this morning. Once again, my stomach turns at the very thought of food, and I close the fridge without pulling anything out. I know I should eat something before I start wasting away, but I just can’t do it.
“It’s nerves, Vee,” I say to the plant hanging on a hook near the kitchen window. “No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake them.”
Unable to eat anything and still not feeling well, I decide to go to bed early, but sleep doesn’t come. I’ve been numb since returning to Accident, refusing to think about the events in Cascade Falls. Between Nora’s call and Janna’s unexpected visit, everything that happened in Ohio marches through my head like an auctioneer going through the items in an estate sale. As the images advance, I can’t help but notice that the vast majority of my time there was good, and the best times were those spent with Nate.
The worst times were also spent with him.
I grab my pillow, pull it close to my chest, and take in a long, shuddering breath to steady myself.
It doesn’t help. My empty stomach groans, and the numbers of the alarm clock proceed well into the early hours of the morning. At some point, I must have fallen asleep since I’m awakened by the alarm on my phone.
I jump up to silence the phone and immediately get hit with a wave of dizziness and then nausea. I rush to the bathroom, but there’s nothing in my stomach to bring up. After splashing cold water on my face, I’m still dizzy, feel like complete shit, and am too emotionally exhausted to consider going to work. It’s the first time I’ve ever called in sick, and I’m clearly embarrassed when I talk to my boss.
“Please go see the doctor,” she says. “There’s a lot going around right now, and I want you to be well!”
Since she makes me promise, I go ahead and make myself an appointment. Since this is such a small town, my boss will probably find out if I don’t go, and the doctor’s office is actually right next to my house. When I call, he says he can see me immediately.
“Well, vitals all looking good,” he says. “No fever and your blood pressure is fine. There is one thing I’d like to check. Give me a minute.”
He leaves the room, and I twiddle my fingers until he comes back.
“Well, I think we’ve figured out what’s going on,” he says with a tentative smile.
“What?”
“You aren’t married, are you, Cherry?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it seems you’re expecting a little one.”
“I…I’m what?”
“You’re pregnant.” He flips through some papers and shows me a little tick mark next to a pregnancy test square as if that just explains everything. “I’d like to get you an appointment with Dr. Carr—she’s an OB/GYN up in Grantsville. She can give you a lot more information, but I expect you’re eight to ten weeks along.”
“That’s…that’s not possible. I can’t be…” My words catch in my throat as I realize I haven’t had a period since I moved back to Accident.
He raises an eyebrow at me.
“I mean…” I bite my quivering lip and look at the wall. I focus on a framed poster of the anatomy of the ear. Finally, I whisper my response. “It was only once.”
“That’s all it takes.”
*****
I actually lie to my boss, telling her I have the flu. I stay home the entire next week in an almost constant state of panic. I binge watch television without actually paying attention to a single episode of whatever the show is. I can’t keep food down, and every time I look at myself in the mirror, I start to cry.
Pregnancy hormones are clearly a real thing.
Why didn’t I tell him to use a condom? What was I thinking, just going ahead and having unprotected sex with a man I really didn’t know well at all? What the hell am I going to do now?
“I’m overwhelmed, Vee,” I say through tears. It’s early in the morning, and I didn’t sleep well. “I can’t handle all of this. I wish I had never gone to Cascade Falls. I should have just stayed here in blissful ignorance.”
You were so lonely.
The thought is my own, but I hear the words in Aunt Ginny’s voice.
“Aunt Sofia.” I shake my head. “I can’t think of her by any name other than Ginny.” I look up at Vee’s curled up leaves. She needs water, but I can’t quite bring myself to stand up, go to the sink, and get her some. “I know she kept everything from me. Maybe she always planned on keeping me in the dark for my own good. Maybe she did it to protect me from all of this.”
Too late now.
“What am I going to do, Vee?” I’ve asked the same question a hundred times. “Do I keep this baby? Do I even tell Nate about it? I’d have to call him. Nora said I should listen to him, and maybe I should. If he’s really getting help…maybe he could change. Do I want him to change? Do I want him at all?” Tears roll freely down my cheeks. “How the hell am I going to raise a child by myself?”
Against my better judgment, I pick up my phone and look at the text messages for the first time in weeks. I see Nora’s message from right before she called the antique shop, but the predominant view on my phone is the eighty-seven unread messages from Nate. The most recent is from this morning.
I take a deep breath and start to read, starting with today’s message and going back to yesterday’s.
Nate O: I know you won’t respond to this, and I accept that. I’m not even sure if you’re getting these messages or reading them or what. I wish I could talk to you. I miss you terribly, Cherice. I know that’s my own fault. It’s all my fault. I just want to make it right again.
Nate O: I think you’d like my therapist. She keeps telling me I’m a jackass. Well, she doesn’t use that word, but the sentiment is there. I know I should stop texting you, but it’s the only connection I have left. I guess I need more work.
Therapist. I guess Nora was right as far as Nate’s trying to get some help. I try to picture him talking about his feelings while lying on a couch, but the image doesn’t look right. I scroll up, running through a couple weeks’ worth of messages so I can read them in order. For several days, the messages are of the same type.
Nate O: I wish you were here.
Nate O: I want to see you so bad
Nate O: I don’t know how to do this
Nate O: I miss you
Nate O: I miss you
Nate O: I miss you
Finally, his messages change.
Nate O: I’m out of the hospital now, so I don’t have to sneak messages to you anymore. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. I don’t blame you for that.
I scroll back up, eventually finding references to a diagnosis of a sleep disorder causing hallucinations and Nate’s subsequent hospitalization at the Cleveland Clinic for a sleep study evaluation.
I consider this, not sure what to think. I get out my laptop and search for sleep disorders causing hallucinations. Apparently, it’s quite plausible. Nate had never talked about having problems sleeping, but it’s something I can understand. When Aunt Ginny passed, I couldn’t sleep in this quiet house all alone. It had influenced my decision to move to Ohio.
I go back to my phone and read more of his messages.
Nate O: After having consistent, productive (that’s what they call it) sleep for a week straight on this new medication, I have to admit I feel very different. I feel like ME again, whatever that means. Nora says it’s true, so I take her word for it. She’s been with me almost constantly, annoying the shit out of me, but I’m still glad she’s here. I miss you though. I’d rather talk to you.
Nate O: I’m really trying, Cherice. Everyone tells me I have to do this for myself, and I know I do, but in my heart, it’s all for you.
Nate O: I keep wondering how things would have been if you arrived in my life either before the passing of my father or after I’d figured out I wasn’t sleeping and all this hallucination crap. I wonder how different things would have been? Would I have made the same mistakes? Maybe I would have. Even now, I want to protect you from this life. At the same time, I want you to be a part of it.
Nate O: I realized all I do is text you about how I’m doing. It’s a little weird since all I really want to know how YOU are doing. I hope you are okay. I hope Accident feels like home and is healing you from all the hurt I caused. I’m so sorry for all of that. I understand what that means now. I’m not sure it makes any difference at this point, but I hope some day you can at least forgive me.
Nate O: I never expected to say this when I was forced into a hospital and therapy, but I’m starting to see how much I need it. Honestly, I thought they’d just lock me up and throw away the key. I deserved as much. Now I think maybe I can be better. For real. I still miss you terribly. I wish we could talk.
Nate O: I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but even when you don’t respond, it seems to help me process when I pretend I’m talking to you. Maybe that’s what you do with your plant? I don’t know if they’re the same. Beats talking to my dead father though, ri
ght? Ha! Maybe humor doesn’t help here. I don’t know.
Nate O: I told my therapist that I’m still texting you daily. She’s not happy with it. She says it might be helping me, but it might be hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you, Cherry. I still love you, and I don’t ever want to hurt you. If you do ever read these and you want me to stop texting, I will. I’ll hate it, but I will stop if you tell me to. Is that passive aggressive? I don’t know anymore. Maybe it’s an addiction. I feel like I need it, so I guess it is.
As I finish reading the most recent messages, the tears start again. I swipe them away angrily, slam the phone down on the table and stomp back into the kitchen. Eventually, I find something that doesn’t turn my stomach, but it doesn’t help my mood.
I place my hand on my abdomen, unable to comprehend what I know is going on inside of me. A small part of me says this is the worst possible timing and circumstances, but the idea of…of ending the pregnancy isn’t something I think I can even consider.
“I can’t do that, Vee. Even the idea of giving it up for adoption…I just can’t consider it.”
Briefly, I feel my body relax as I utter the decision aloud.
“So, if I’m going to keep the baby, the next decision is whether or not to tell Nate about it.”
This decision is easier for me. I have to tell him, plain and simple. Regardless of what has happened between us, concealing something like this is fundamentally wrong. As a child who didn’t know her parents at all, I can’t even consider my baby not having a father in his life.
My baby.
A shudder runs through me. I’m not ready for this.
“It’s still happening,” I remind myself. “I’m going to have to get ready for it.” I look over at Vee and her drooping leaves. “I’ve been neglecting you. How am I going to take care of a baby by myself if I can’t even remember to water a plant?”
I pull Vee down from the hook and place the pot in the kitchen sink. After a good soaking, I leave Vee in the sink to drain.
