* * *
The day passed with stories, but no touching. Saturday night turned into Sunday morning. Sunday afternoon turned into Sunday evening and Kate still hadn’t left. The day and night passed with hours spent in conversation and quietness.
While Jack cooked dinner, Kate finally brought up the one subject she’d avoided all weekend. “Do you still see Maggie? I mean, how are things between you?”
“I do see her. We have Caleb and we live twenty minutes away from each other, so yes.”
“Do you still … love her?”
“That’s a complicated question,”
“It always was,” Kate allowed.
“I don’t know what to say. The answer seems tangled.”
“Try,” she said.
“No, I don’t love her like I want her back. I loved her the best I knew, but she was right when she left me—I didn’t love her enough or the way she needed. I thought I did. I wasn’t trying to be duplicitous or fool her. But in looking back, I see how I married her when everything was unsteady and, as my Brit friend says, mucked up. You were gone and she was here. She loved me. I loved her. Simple, right?”
“Sounds so.”
“Until you look back and realize that you loved someone as part of an answer to a question.”
“What was the question?”
“What am I going to do without the only person I loved my whole life?” His voice soft.
Kate wanted to stand, stomp her foot, argue that his one decision had ruined all their years. She wanted to unravel the past days, wind them into a tight ball of yarn and start again. Begin again. “So you married her because I was gone?”
“I didn’t marry her only because you were gone, but it was part of it.”
The silence lengthened to the inevitable conclusion: Kate needed to go home. “I really do have to go,” she said. “I’ve said that at least five times.” She laughed and shook her head. “But this time, I’m leaving. I’ve got to go.”
“I know, and Caleb will be home in about an hour.” Jack stood from the table and carried their dishes to the sink.
“I’ll be gone by then,” she said, feeling the weekend’s end seep into her with sadness. “I should have been gone a long time ago.” She stood. “I’m going to get my stuff together real quick.” She walked away, her heart directly behind her feet.
The doorbell rang, and Kate startled as she zipped her suitcase. She heard voices: deep and familiar. She walked out of the bedroom to the front hallway to find Rowan Irving, in his khakis and white button-down, standing in the doorway, talking to Jack Adams.
This fact was so impossible that Kate could only stare. Rowan walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Kate.”
“Rowan,” she said, her arms loose and seeming unattached. Tingling formed at the back of her brain and moved forward.
Rowan stepped back and looked first at Jack and then at Kate. “Does anyone want to explain this?”
“What are you doing here?” Kate asked.
“I was worried as hell. You said you were coming home last night and you didn’t. You won’t answer the phone. You won’t call back. You had this crazy explanation about an old friend and how you’d explain all of it to me when you got home. Is this your friend?” He pointed to Jack.
“Yes, this is Jack Adams.” Kate didn’t look at Jack, not even a glance or she would’ve been unable to speak.
“And Jack is an old friend? Or is this the old boyfriend?”
“Seriously. How did you get here? I am so confused,” Kate said.
“You’re confused? I thought you were here to look at a boutique and then coming home. And now you’re here snuggled up with an old boyfriend? Coming out of a bedroom? What the hell is going on?”
“I promised I’d explain everything when I got home. How did you find me?”
“Lida.”
“What?”
“I asked her if you were visiting anyone here.”
Lida was one of the very few who knew where Kate was. But why would she tell Rowan? “I don’t get it.”
“Does that part even matter right now?”
“Yes, yes it does,” Kate said.
Jack stepped toward them now. “Would you all like to come out of the hallway? Inside?” His voice was a broken robotic sound, uneven.
“No,” Rowan said. “We’d like to leave, but before we do, would you two like to tell me anything?” He waved his hand between them. “Is there anything I need to know?”
“There’s lots you need to know,” Kate said. “And if you’d waited for me to get home, I would’ve been able to tell you.”
“Are you two…” Rowan’s face crumbled with his next words. “Together?”
“No.” Kate stepped forward and took Rowan’s hand. “Nothing like that is going on here. We went through something together a long time ago and haven’t seen each other for a very, very long time. Please believe me. I came here to close a chapter, not start a new one. I wanted to begin my life with you and I had to see Jack to do that.”
Kate then looked at Jack and his face was blank, cold.
“I flew here,” Rowan said. “And I’m going to drive you home. Let’s go.”
In movements as slow as walking through water, Kate went to the back guest bedroom and grabbed her suitcase. Her toothbrush was still on the sink’s edge as if waiting for her to spend one more night. Just one more night.
Jack and Kate said good-bye without a touch. Kate climbed into the passenger seat of her own car, and the words tumbled out in a mangled mess of explanation.
“Rowan, you’ve got to listen.”
“Go for it. Explain.”
“This is hard for me.”
“Hard for you?”
Kate took in the longest breath and turned toward Rowan. His face was hard and sad, a combination she’d never seen on him before. Compassion rose. “Jack and I dated all through high school and college.”
“I know that part, Kate. It seems I’ve missed out on the part after that…”
The story of Luna took an hour to tell, and there remained five hours to argue and understand.
The word pregnant dropped into the car and into their life.
He pressed his body hard into the back seat; his fists clenched the steering wheel, turning his knuckles a grim bluish white. “Oh, dear God. You have a daughter.”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me? You have a child living out there in the world somewhere and you never, ever told me? Who else knows? Why did you keep this a secret? Who is she?”
The questions pelted her. She focused, trying to answer each one truthfully. “I never told you because I was happy with our life and I didn’t want to remember the pain. I didn’t want that darkness to enter our lives. I’ve meant to tell you, but … when I want to forget something, I don’t talk about it. And I wanted to forget.”
“Did you forget? Obviously not.”
“No, of course I didn’t. No. She’s this part of me that’s not with me.”
“Stop. I get it.” He stared through the windshield, his voice a metronome, measured and slow. “Who knows about her?”
“My parents, my sisters, Lida, Norah, and Jack. That’s all. That’s it. I’ve never told anyone else.”
“What is this some vast conspiracy to make sure I’m not part of the family or close friends?”
“No,” she cried out the word. “My family wanted me to tell you. Especially Tara—she can’t stand that you don’t know. They begged me, but I was scared.”
“Why did you have to come see him?”
“I haven’t seen him in over thirteen years. I haven’t seen him since the day I told him I was pregnant. There are things Jack and I never talked about, and I felt like there was this unfinished conversation or something. I wanted to put ‘The End’ on the story. I don’t know, Rowan. I’m confused.”
“Confused,” he said. “Yeah, I bet. Now I know why you acted so weird
when that guy Hayes brought up Jack’s name at the party.”
“Stop.” Kate closed her eyes. “Tell me how you got Lida to tell you where I was. I don’t understand.”
“I told her you were sick and that I couldn’t get a hold of you and you had told me the name, but I couldn’t hear you and—”
“You lied,” Kate said, opening her eyes and looking at Rowan’s clenched profile.
“And you didn’t?”
“You’re making it into something it’s not.”
“I’m afraid the only reason you’re telling me now is because I found you at his house. You’re not telling me because you trust me or love me or want me to be part of your secret life, but because I found you and there’s really no other choice.”
“Please don’t be so mad. I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, but maybe I was waiting for the right time.”
“What right time, Kate?”
“I’m embarrassed, Rowan. Can’t you even see that a little bit? How was I supposed to explain it all? There I was, this girl with everything in the world and still I felt like I couldn’t be a mom?” She paused, feeling the unraveling begin again, shame undoing the resolute decisions. “Mom. It’s the name that haunts me everywhere I go. Even my sister writes about it, the most sacred of all jobs in the world, right? And I gave it up? I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
“Less of you?”
She was crying and she didn’t try to stop. What was there left to hide? “I wanted to do the right thing. And I believe I did. He was married, Rowan. When I found out I was pregnant, he was married. It was a mess. I did the best I knew to do. I still wonder if it was the best thing. I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I was wrong to hide it. I did everything wrong with you. I’m so sorry.”
“Did you ever, even once, think that maybe the girl I love is all the parts of you and not only the parts that you’ve decided to tell and show me?”
Kate’s only response was a sharp intake of breath.
“Kate?” Rowan prodded.
“I don’t deserve … to be loved like that,” she said.
“You could have told me and it wouldn’t have changed how I feel about you at all.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she said.
“It is. So, tell me. Where is she? How old is she?” he asked.
“She’s thirteen, and I have no idea where she is at all or with who. I chose the family from an adoption agency. I spent months going through family profiles … and I chose. But no names. She could be anywhere at all.”
“That must be so hard.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m sorry for all of this. I am. But you need to know that this kills me, it destroys me to think that you would keep something so important from me.”
“I told you.” Kate’s heart skipped over her words, tripping, falling and then righting. “Yes, I told you everything. It’s all awful and wonderful because I believe somewhere she has a good life that I could’ve never given her.”
He reached for her and then pulled her close as he drove with his left hand. “Well, can we let it go now?”
“I hope so. I really hope so.” Kate moved closer to Rowan’s body, wanting to feel the solid warmth and sweetness. She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep as Rowan hummed to the country music. She’d never told him that she’d seen the engagement ring, and she wondered what he’d done with it, if it still sat alone in the drawer. A silent hour passed as Kate realized that if Jack and she kept up their regular letter-writing routine, it would be a full year before she heard from him again.
She remembered once when she and Tara as children had been on the beach (this was before Molly arrived to rock their world with laughter). They’d spent an entire afternoon building a sand castle with towers and moats, with white coral windows and seashell-covered walkways.
The Cooper Clan was the royal family. There was a princess named Tiffany who slept in a pink room at the top of the castle with her white cat named Fluffy. All day, Tara and Katie built a world until dusk arrived, and their parents told them it was time to leave and get cleaned up for dinner. The sand glowed with otherworldly pink twilight. Katie and Tara stared at the castle with deep respect for the world they had created. That night, lying in bed, they’d whispered about how they would add to the castle, and to the family.
But the next morning, the hard lesson arrived: Nothing lasts. Nothing. Especially when built on sand below the incoming tide line.
* * *
March 20, 2005
Dear Katie,
Happy Birthday to Luna.
I hope you’re doing great. All is well here. Caleb is now three years old and I’m watching him grow right before my eyes.
Before I tell you about work and such, I want to tell you a story.
I was on a plane to Philadelphia last month when I swore I saw Luna. I know it sounds impossible, too coincidental like I made it up, but I think I did. There was this little girl about seven years old, begging her mom for candy at the newsstand. She had your color hair that curled under her chin and on her forehead above her green eyes. She stood there with her hands on her hips (like you did that day you stood up to Principal Proctor), and demanded the Sour Patch Kids she held in her little fist. The mother was blond, pretty, and had two little boys in a double stroller. She leaned over and said. “Emily, you may not have any more candy today. You will throw up.”
I wanted to grab that lady and ask questions, take a picture—anything, but instead I just stood there like the damn Vulcan statue made of iron. I couldn’t move at all. This Emily pursed out her lips and blew air up into her bangs—just like you do when you’re thinking—and put the Sour Patch package back on the shelf and stalked off with her hands never leaving her hips.
The weird thing is that I bought that bag of candy.
Now I know it probably wasn’t our Luna. That would be too perfect. I get it. But in case it was, I bought that stupid bag and have it hidden in my desk drawer.
Have you ever thought you saw her? You know—in a crowd or anywhere at all?
* * *
fifteen
BRONXVILLE, NEW YORK
2010
“You have to tell him,” Sailor whispered, using her elbow to nudge Emily into Chaz. Emily tripped sideways, her left foot catching on the boardwalk. Chaz grabbed her arm to steady her. She might be mad at Sailor for tripping her, but it was worth it to have Chaz touch her arm.
“What’d you say?” He turned around to walk backward and face Sailor. “Tell me what?”
“Nothing.” Sailor gave him a little push, but he skipped and kept pace with them.
“Liar,” he said, stopping so that Emily and Sailor had to walk around him or stop also.
The beach boardwalk was overcrowded, full of teenagers on the first warm weekend. The air had the taste of summer at its edges. Watermelon. Ice cream. Sand in her lemonade. School wouldn’t be out for another month, but Emily was already inside the laziness of it all. Then Sailor had to go and ruin it all by bringing up the “mom” thing again.
Sometimes, no, a lot of times, it seemed like Sailor was more obsessed than Emily with finding the birth mom. Emily held up her hand. “It’s nothing. I want to stop and get cotton candy.”
Chaz ran his left hand through his wind-snarled hair, caught it and then let go. “Really? Like that’s some big thing to tell me?”
Sailor made a noise that was halfway between a huff and a laugh, her way of telling Chaz that Emily was bluffing. Emily walked around Chaz and shot her best friend a look that she hoped said “shut up.”
They reached the steps to the beach. To Emily, the haze of sunshine made the towels and blankets that were spread across the sand look like jellybeans. “Let’s go,” she said. “You two are being annoying.”
“Annoying?” Chaz asked, laughing. He jumped off the boardwalk, over the steps and into the sand, his weight denting the surface. He pulled off his T-shirt and held it in his h
and. “Me, annoying?”
“Absolutely,” Sailor said. She stepped carefully onto the sand, crouching down so she wouldn’t slip from wood to beach.
Emily looked down at both of them, only a step below her. “You’re not annoying,” she said, a quietness winding into her voice.
Sailor threw her arms in the air. “First one in the water wins,” she hollered.
“Wins what?” Emily asked. She jumped to join them, and the beach bag bounced off her hip.
“Doesn’t win anything. Just wins,” Sailor said.
“You can win then. The water is freezing. No way I’m going in,” Emily said.
Someone, a girl from the left, called Chaz’s name and he answered, walking away. The voice belonged to Sissy, who was wearing her too-small yellow bikini. Sailor shrugged as if to say, well, there he goes.
Emily shook her head. “Sissy wins and she didn’t even have to jump in the water,” Emily said, smiling.
Sailor’s laughter seemed to be part of the surf sounds beating against the shoreline, and then Emily and Sailor ran toward the water. They set their towels next to each other and then began the process of lathering sunblock on their winter-white skin.
“You should tell him, you know.” Sailor handed Emily the lotion.
“Why? It really doesn’t matter.”
“Have you heard back yet?”
Emily shook her head. The hope-thing inside her sank again, a quick drop inside her chest. “I guess I shouldn’t have even friended her. I mean, she gave me away so why would she want to hear from me? It was stupid. I shouldn’t have done it.” Emily sat on the towel and stared out to that place where water and sky met and turned into one shadowy blue line. “If I got rid of something I didn’t want, I wouldn’t want that something to show up again.”
“You’re not a something, Emily.” Sailor’s voice was kinder than usual. The mystery-solving voice turning soft. “You’re a somebody.”
“Yeah, but maybe to her I was a something.” Emily shrugged. “I just wanted to see what she looked like. And now I know.”
“She’s pretty,” Sailor said, sitting down and facing Emily. “But of course she is because you are.”
And Then I Found You Page 12
