Becoming the Talbot Sisters

by Rachel Linden

  Ursula smiled, a brief curling up of her lips, and then started into what seemed to be a rehearsed speech. “Charlie, you have given many good years of service to Care Network, and we appreciate your hard work, but after reviewing all of the staff positions—”

  “I quit,” Charlie interrupted her.

  Ursula stopped talking abruptly, her mouth snapping shut like a nutcracker. She looked surprised. “What?”

  Charlie took a deep breath. The words had flown from her mouth unbidden, almost of their own volition, but she did not take them back. Once she spoke them, she knew it was the right choice. It was scary to take that step with no idea what came next. She had very little financial reserves and had to pay her rent and fund her necessities somehow, but it felt liberating. “I’m turning in my resignation from Care Network,” she repeated.

  Ursula raised her eyebrows but didn’t interrupt.

  “I’ve enjoyed my time here and the chance to do good and necessary work,” Charlie continued, “but I can’t keep my position, not after what I’ve seen and experienced in the last few months. I feel I need to put my efforts toward directly helping women in vulnerable situations. Please consider this my two weeks’ notice.”

  “Well.” Ursula sat back with a grudging look of respect. “I accept your resignation. We will see you in the office on Monday, and you can begin turning over your duties.”

  She stood, and Charlie followed suit. Ursula extended her hand to Charlie. They shook. “I wish you success in whatever you choose next,” Ursula said stiffly but sincerely.

  “Thank you,” Charlie responded. She was still stunned by what she’d just done. The notion had been percolating for months, ever since that night in the Serbian village. Finding Kinga in the back of that transport van had relit a fire in her belly, one that had lain long dormant since that traumatic night in Johannesburg.

  “Well,” Ursula said crisply. “I had better be going.”

  Charlie rested her hands on her belly and watched her former boss walk away. She knew she had just made a momentous decision, of course, but the reality was only slowly starting to sink in. How would she pay her bills? How could she afford to stay in Budapest? And Johan, what would happen with him? The thought about Johan came unbidden, somehow more pressing than even her sudden unemployment. It surprised her that she would care so much.

  Ursula pushed through the glass door and out onto the sidewalk, brushing past a small knot of people approaching the drop-in center from the street. Charlie glanced up as they reached the door and froze. Beau was standing on the other side of the glass, reaching for the handle. Behind him, peering over his shoulder, was a redhead in a raspberry-colored trench coat and sunglasses. Was that Cooksville’s hometown star reporter, Jessica Archer? Charlie gaped at the wholly unexpected visitation, almost missing the third person standing just to the left of Jessica. Andrew.

  “Andrew?” Waverly gasped. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her husband was standing in the doorway of the drop-in center, peering around the room with a worried frown. His eyes lighted on Charlie, and he started toward his sister-in-law.

  “Andrew,” Waverly called again. Andrew froze, glancing up at her voice. When he saw Waverly his face cleared in an instant, suffused with relief. Waverly made a small sound, something between a sob and a laugh.

  Andrew gave her a tired smile. “Darling.” He held his arms out to her and she flew into them, burrowing her face into the lapel of his suit coat. He clasped her around the shoulders and pressed his cheek into her hair. He was rumpled and unshaven, she noticed right away, and smelled vaguely of stale cigarette smoke. Andrew was never rumpled, nor did he smoke. He was always perfectly pressed, even at the end of a long business day. Her cheek scraped against the stubble on his neck. She didn’t care. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. She clung to his neck as though she were a drowning woman and he was the life preserver. She was vaguely aware of other people standing awkwardly around the room, watching the reunion in fascinated silence.

  “Where have you been?” Waverly demanded.

  Andrew pulled back to look at her, gently gripping her arms as though to keep her close. His eyes were pink-rimmed. He looked exhausted. “Trying to find you,” he said. “I didn’t know what happened to you for days after you were taken. I was at the cabin and didn’t have Internet or cell coverage. And when I got home and saw all hell had broken loose, well, it took a devil of a time to track anyone down who could tell me anything.” He drew a shaky breath. “Turns out I should have been paying more attention to your work contacts. I didn’t have anyone’s number, and the Food Network stonewalled me and wouldn’t believe I was who I said I was. I called and called your cell phone, but I couldn’t get through. I was so worried about you, my darling. Petrified.”

  Waverly folded herself into his arms again and buried her face in his chest. “I thought maybe you weren’t looking for me,” she confessed. “I texted you as soon as we were freed, but you didn’t respond.”

  Andrew looked confused. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t receive the text. I wish I had. As soon as I found out you were missing, I never stopped looking for you. Are you all right? Truly?” Andrew pulled back a little, scrutinizing his wife’s face, running his thumbs over her cheekbones and down her jaw as though to reassure himself that she was there in the flesh, safe and sound.

  “I’m fine,” Waverly assured him, beaming at the warmth of his attention. “And Charlie and the baby are safe too. It’s a boy, by the way.” She said the last part a little shyly, unsure where he stood on the subject of the baby. She didn’t mention Nadia. There would be time for all of that later. She didn’t know how they would navigate what came next, but in her heart she knew they would do it together. Andrew had come for her. That was all that mattered now.

  “I’m so glad you are all safe and well,” Andrew said. He glanced over at Charlie, his eyes resting for a brief second on the baby. “Jessica helped me find you.” He gestured to the reporter, who was standing off to the side with Beau, taking photos of the touching reunion. “She got us to Budapest, and after some sleuthing we located Charlie’s workplace and met up with Dr. Kruger, who finally put us in touch with Beau. They agreed to drive us here, but no one would tell us where you were, not until today.”

  Waverly pulled back and looked at Jessica for the first time. “Jessica Archer?” she asked in astonishment.

  The reporter was tapping notes into her phone while keeping an eye on the happy couple. “The one and only,” she said.

  “You helped Andrew find me?” Waverly asked.

  “Well, I am a reporter,” Jessica said dryly. “I have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

  “No doubt,” Waverly muttered, smiling prettily. “Well, thank you for whatever you did to help Andrew find me.” She turned back to Andrew, dismissing Jessica, who kept tapping notes into her phone in an unruffled manner.

  “They’re keeping a pretty tight lid on you two on account of the security concerns,” Beau volunteered. “Until after the trial. I think the network thought Andrew was a reporter or something. He and Jessica managed to get hold of the good doctor here”—he jerked a thumb at Johan—“and that’s how they finally found me.”

  Waverly glanced at Johan, noticing him for the first time as well. Charlie appeared to be trying very hard not to look at him. Her cheeks were flushed. Waverly smothered a smile and buried her face in Andrew’s chest again, wrapping her arms around his neck as though she would never let go. It was all going to be okay, she sensed. Somehow it would all turn out right.

  With Andrew and Waverly locked in a long embrace, Charlie felt as though she were intruding on a private moment. She headed toward the staff kitchen at the back of the building, looking for a drink of water. Beau followed, trailed by Jessica, who kept snapping photos of the happy couple. Johan fell into step beside her. He raised an eyebrow.

  “So that’s Andrew—mysterious husband and father of the baby?”

  “In the f
lesh,” Charlie replied. She glanced back at the newly reunited couple, smiling. She was deeply glad and relieved to see her brother-in-law. Andrew and Waverly were standing very close together, their foreheads touching, looking deep into each other’s eyes. Waverly was crying. She was a beautiful crier, glistening and dewy, not splotchy and swollen. Andrew couldn’t stop touching her—the curve of her cheek, her shoulder, brushing back a wisp of hair from her brow.

  “Quite the happy reunion,” Johan commented, following Charlie’s line of sight.

  “Yeah,” Beau interjected, holding his Samsung aloft as he filmed the scene. “This is going to be ratings gold.”

  Jessica appeared to also be filming on her smartphone.

  “Stop that.” Charlie swatted at Beau’s phone. “Not everything has to be used for a ratings boost.”

  “Says the woman whose career doesn’t depend on ratings,” Beau said, but he stopped videoing.

  Jessica just moved closer to get a better shot.

  “Former career,” Charlie corrected.

  Johan looked at her in surprise, and Charlie smiled ruefully at the memory of her very impulsive resignation.

  “Did she really fire you, after everything you’ve just been through?” he asked.

  Charlie shook her head. “I quit before she could. I couldn’t go back to putting condoms on bananas, not after everything I’ve seen in the last few months. The work I was doing was good, but it’s not enough anymore. I need a change.”

  Johan nodded in understanding. “Fair enough. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Charlie said over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway to the kitchen. “Something to help women like Simona and Kinga.” She badly needed a shot of whiskey, but a cup of water would have to suffice. “First I’m going to have this baby, and then I’ll figure out the rest.”

  CHAPTER 31

  You don’t have to leave. You could stay the night.” Andrew rolled over in the disheveled king-size hotel bed and gave Waverly a

  shy smile. Waverly cupped his face in her hand, reveling in the rasp of stubble across her palm, the warmth and familiar smell of him—Earl Grey tea and the peppermints he kept in his pockets.

  Johan had taken Charlie back to the safehouse after Andrew’s surprise appearance, but Waverly had opted to go back to the hotel where Beau, Jessica, and Andrew had taken rooms. Before leaving them Jessica had extracted a promise of an exclusive interview with both Andrew and Waverly after breakfast the next morning. Waverly suspected that Jessica viewed Waverly’s ordeal as a golden ticket to national recognition.

  Putting all thoughts of the opportunistic reporter aside, Waverly stretched languidly and yawned, feeling sleepy after their surprising and delightful reunion. She would have liked nothing better than to stay, order room service, and curl up next to her husband as though the events of the past month had been nothing more than a bad dream. But she couldn’t. There were things she had to tell him. She had to explain why she couldn’t stay with him at his hotel, why she had to return to the safe house that evening. She had to tell Andrew about Nadia.

  “So the baby’s a boy?” Andrew interrupted her train of thought. He rolled onto his back and laced his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. “I’ve never had a son before. I could teach him to play baseball.” He paused. “Or cricket.” He looked as though he might be enjoying the thought.

  Waverly turned to him in surprise. “Does that mean you want the baby?” she asked cautiously. They had not talked about anything after their initial meeting at the drop-in center. They had been too eager to be with each other, desperate for the other’s touch, a reassurance of sorts, a pledge that they were still together, still committed to one another despite the harsh words and silence and distance of the past weeks. Now that they were reunited, there were pressing and important matters they needed to discuss.

  “I watched all the videos of your captive cooking show on YouTube,” Andrew said, not directly answering her question. “I watched them over and over. I couldn’t get enough of watching you.”

  “Why?” Waverly asked, surprised.

  Andrew shrugged. “Partly to convince myself that you were really okay, but that wasn’t all. It was something else too.” He paused. “You were so brave. There you were, trapped in that ghastly place, forced to do things against your will, but you were so poised, so unbowed. Beau told me that you smuggled a cell phone in your dress. He said you were invaluable to the rescue.”

  Waverly looked down at her hands. “Charlie was having contractions too early. The baby could have been in trouble. We didn’t know what was happening. It was Antigona, the Albanian woman in the videos, who helped me. She smuggled a cell phone to me, and I was able to reach Beau with information that allowed the police to find us.”

  Andrew reached for her hand, clasping it in his own. “I realized something before I heard that you’d been rescued, before I even knew that you’d been taken against your will.”

  “What?” Waverly asked, her breath catching in her throat. She waited, sensing that what he had to say was important.

  “That I cannot live without you. I can’t, and I don’t want to. And when I heard that they had found you, that you were alive and unharmed . . .” He stopped, blinking hard, his voice thick with emotion.

  Waverly bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes too. Her cool, calm British husband never showed this much emotion.

  “It was the happiest moment of my life.” Andrew met her eyes, his own serious. “So if you want this baby, if this is what you really want, then I will love you and love him as much as I possibly can. You are strong and courageous, my darling. And you will be the most amazing mother to our child.”

  Waverly shut her eyes and nestled against her husband’s bare chest, listening to the beating of his heart beneath her ear, her own drumming a rhythm of gratitude and expectation. She was daring to believe, to hope, that it could be all right. But first she had to be honest with him about everything. She placed her hand on Andrew’s chest and took a deep breath, then raised her head and met his eyes. “Darling, there’s something else I have to tell you,” she said.

  His gaze was calm and even. “All right,” he said mildly.

  “What would you say if I told you we also have a daughter?” She kept her eyes on him, feeling her pulse quicken.

  Andrew furrowed his brow quizzically. “Besides Katie?” he asked, referring to his daughter with his ex-wife.

  “Besides Katie,” Waverly confirmed. “Her name is Nadia.” And then she explained.

  When she was done he was quiet for a long moment, staring out the window at downtown Belgrade, considering. She held her breath. Would he change his mind? It was a monumental thing to ask of him, she knew, to be a father to a child who was not his own. He had agreed to a baby who at least had some biological relationship to them through Charlie. But for him to adopt a four-year-old whom he had never even laid eyes on, who did not even speak his own language . . . It was asking for the moon. And yet somehow she had the courage to ask it of him. She could feel the rightness of it in the core of her being. It was meant to be.

  The minutes stretched long as she waited in nervous anticipation for his response. Watching her husband’s face, those calm, gray eyes fixed in the distance, Waverly had the impression that Andrew was somewhere far away, that perhaps he was saying farewell to another life, the life he had once thought he would have. Finally, he looked up and met her eyes. His expression was frank and open. “It’s not what I expected,” he said slowly. “But I’m willing to pursue this if you are sure it’s the right thing.”

  Waverly felt the prickle of tears, relief seeping sweet as honey through her veins. “It is,” she said with fervor.

  Andrew reached for his trousers and shirt. He slid the shirt over his shoulders and buttoned the cuffs, then turned to Waverly. “I’d like to meet our daughter.”

  Two days after Andrew’s unexpected appearance, Johan drove Charlie back
to Budapest in one of the Care Network minivans. Beau had flown back to the US that morning to finalize plans for Waverly’s upcoming interview on the Ellen DeGeneres Show and Good Morning America amid a wave of positive publicity. The Food Network had been in contact. They had renewed Simply Perfect’s contract for another two seasons and wanted to discuss Waverly doing a two-part Christmas special based in Budapest.

  Jessica Archer had left on the same flight as Beau, armed with her exclusive first interview with Waverly and Andrew and a very determined look in her eyes. She had confided to Charlie that she had plans to barter the interview for a ticket out of her Ohio small-town newsroom.

  On their way out of Belgrade, Charlie and Johan stopped by the apartment that Waverly, Nadia, and Andrew were renting to say good-bye. When Waverly ushered them into the ornate living room with soaring ceilings and tall windows overlooking a verdant green park, Nadia was sitting on Andrew’s lap on a tufted leather sofa. She was giggling as he patiently braided a Barbie doll’s blond hair. The little girl nestled back against Andrew’s crisp button-down shirt, watching intently as he added a bow to the hairdo.

  “She adores him already,” Waverly said, giving her husband and Nadia a fond look. “And I think the feeling is mutual.”

  Andrew glanced up and raised his eyebrows at Charlie, the merest hint of a smile curving up the corners of his mouth. “What’s a five-letter word for an unexpected outcome?” he queried.

  Charlie laughed. “Happy?” she guessed, ribbing him a little. Then, because she couldn’t resist playing the game for real, she guessed again. “A twist.”

  “Indeed.” Andrew nodded. “Right on both counts.”

  Nadia tugged at his wrist, pointing to a pink, sequined Barbie ball gown. Andrew slid the doll’s legs into the gown and expertly fastened the Velcro.

  “We’re both staying in Belgrade as long as we can,” Waverly explained, watching Andrew and Nadia with an indulgent expression. “I’ll have to go back to the US in the next couple of weeks, but Andrew’s taken a leave of absence and will stay here until Nadia’s paperwork is sorted out and she can travel to Connecticut.”