Naomi saw his nod. She stood straighter and said, “I’m not sure how to say this, exactly. Well, I’ll just say it like it is. My mother slept with your father. Thirty-fourish years ago. I think . . . I think I’m your half sister.”
From behind them, Anna gasped, “Naomi!”
Cade just stared.
Looking like she might cry, Naomi shuffled two steps backward. “I’m sorry,” she said, “to break this news about your father. I don’t know how he was with your mother, but—”
“My mother and father never got along, from day one. My mom was MIA most of my life. I didn’t know my dad had . . . but I know she . . .” said Cade. His words were clipped, as if he couldn’t get enough air to say more.
“I’m sorry,” said Naomi again.
But then, in a burst of motion, Cade wrapped his arms around Naomi in an embrace that enveloped her almost completely. Abigail clapped her hands over her mouth, tears springing to her eyes. Rig felt a wild stab of completely unreasonable jealousy watching another man’s hands on Naomi and closed his eyes briefly. Don’t be an idiot.
Naomi had a brother. Then, opening his eyes again, he saw Jake grin as he took Anna’s hand. Anna just looked shocked.
“A sister! I have a sister!” Cade whooped. A couple of the dancers missed their steps, and heads turned all over the room. “I always wanted a sister.” He hugged her again. “Now here’s one built in. Right in my own backyard. Goddamn that Eliza! She always knew how to make an entrance.”
Naomi still looked shell shocked, her arms stiff at her sides, her eyes wide. “I wouldn’t be hurt if you wanted to get a DNA test, to see if we’re right. But she did once ask my mother’s name—I thought it was just because I said that she’d come through Cypress Hollow. I didn’t know she was testing who I might be.”
“Look at you!” Cade put his arm around his wife and stared at Naomi. The green eyes that looked like the mirrors of Naomi’s danced. “I don’t need any damn DNA. Eliza didn’t. Even far away, she knew who you were. We’re idiots for not seeing it, too.”
“Naomi,” hissed Anna. “Mom’s coming.”
Maybelle sailed across the room, dragging Buzz behind her.
“Oh, no,” said Naomi. “I can’t deal with her. I just—I can’t.”
Then Naomi did something that split Rig’s heart wide open. She stepped away from Cade, away from Abigail, and moved toward him. Without a word, she pressed against Rig’s side.
Rig’s arm went naturally around her shoulders, and the relief he felt in touching her was like drinking ice water after a long, hot day. Sweet blessed forgiveness. That’s what this was. And he felt hers, too. She leaned farther into him, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her hair. Both actions were unspoken apologies, ones he knew they’d articulate later. But now, nothing mattered but the fact that he was touching her again.
Rig longed for so much more. He longed for forever.
“Naomi!” said Anna again. Her voice was sharp.
Maybelle was almost on top of them now.
“Anna, honey, do something. Distract her. I don’t want to handle her. I can’t.” Naomi threaded her arm around Rig’s waist, burying the side of her face in his shirt, and he barely dared move. He didn’t want to be anyplace else. Nothing could break this moment, not the fact that she’d just blown a family secret out of the water, not the fact that her mother was about to topple them all like trees—
“I can do that,” gasped Anna. “My water just broke.”
Chapter Fifty-six
Baby sweaters: little woolen cubes of delight.
—E.C.
Naomi had always been fast on her feet, quick witted, swift to grasp a situation’s severity. It was, probably, the part she liked best about herself.
But even she could barely keep up with the next few seconds.
Maybelle barreled in, her arms already over her head, ready to do battle. “No one listen to another word, unless I say it! Oh, Anna . . . Oh, lord. Oh! Don’t worry a bit, my precious lamb. It took seven hours to have you. You’ve got plenty of time. Someone call a doctor!” she exclaimed, looking over the heads of the crowd.
Naomi and Rig didn’t need to talk about what to do next. Naomi went to one side of Anna, and Rig took the other. They needed to get her out of here, away from all the eyes that had already been curious as to why Cade had started hugging Naomi and whooping.
“Jake,” said Naomi. “Call 911. Get an ambulance here. We need to get her to the hospital.”
Anna’s cheeks were bright pink, and she puffed air between her teeth. “I swear I wasn’t in labor fifteen minutes ago, and now . . .” She broke off, unable to speak for a few seconds as Rig and Naomi carefully stood her up and started moving her toward the door. “Now I feel like it’s moving way too fast for me. Naomi—I’m three weeks early.”
“It’s all right, that’s no problem. Hang on, sugar. We’re almost there. We’ll put you in a patient’s room until the ambulance is here. Then you’ll have a little ride, and then you’ll have a baby.”
Rig, with his shoulder, knocked open the door that led to the office. “Here, come on. You’re almost there.”
Maybelle followed behind them, flapping Jake through with her hands. “Naomi, on the other hand, she was my first. They always say first babies are the ones who take a while, but Naomi’s never been patient. I had her in thirty minutes from the time my water broke.”
Anna gasped as another contraction hit her, and Naomi felt a wave of protectiveness. “Mom. This isn’t the time. She doesn’t want to hear it.”
“Of course she does, don’t you, darling?”
“No. I. Don’t.” Anna glared at her mother as Naomi and Rig helped her up onto the examining table. “Nothing. More.”
Naomi spun in place to face Maybelle. “Out.” She pointed behind her and tried to keep the bubbling anger out of her voice, but it rose up in spite of herself. “I’m going to examine her, and you’re going to get out.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m here for the long haul.”
“No.” Naomi clenched her teeth. “It’s just me and Rig here. And Anna.”
“And Jake,” said Anna. “Where’s Jake?” She sat up and then fell back down with a groan.
“I’m here,” said Jake as he moved around Maybelle and into the small room.
“Him?” bellowed Maybelle. “You’re keeping a man you barely know in here and I have to leave?”
Rig moved forward and said diplomatically, “Maybe when we’re at the hospital you’ll be able to see her. But this isn’t a hospital, and we don’t want her to have the baby here.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t you already have everything?”
“We’re a doctor’s office, not a surgery center.”
“Surgery?” moaned Anna. “I get drugs, then, right? Good ones.”
“So if you’d just sit in the waiting room,” continued Rig, a hand on Maybelle’s elbow steering her around, “I’ll come give you any information you need.”
Naomi felt a wave of gratefulness toward Rig for trying to do the right thing, but from how Anna was breathing, they might not have time for the niceties.
“Out. Now.” She would move next to Rig and push her mother out of here if she had to. Anna was all that mattered, not her conniving mother . . .
Were those tears in her mother’s eyes? “I’m sorry,” said Maybelle. “Honey, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
“Told her what?” demanded Anna in a roar.
“Naomi, I know we never got along like a house on fire. We’ve never really spoken the same language. But you know I love you, even if we don’t say it, right?” Maybelle paused, as if she had more to say. She put her hand on Naomi’s arm and held on, tightly. “He was the first one to hold you, you know. Even before me. He was in love with you from the very first second you drew breath, Naomi, in love with you more than he ever was with anything else in his whole life, even his work. He lived for you. You know that, in your heart.”
Anna wailed, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” said Naomi. “Nothing that can’t wait. Okay, Mom, out.” But somehow, the anger was dissipating, fizzling. What if her mother had just been trying to do the right thing all along? Was that possible? They were two women related by blood who didn’t understand each other as well as others did. And that might be okay.
They could talk about it later. Now was for Anna. But as her mother left, head down, Naomi said, “Thanks, Mom. I love you, too.”
Maybelle turned, a look of utter relief on her face. She kissed her fingers and blew on the tips, once for each daughter. Then she closed the door behind her.
Showtime. Naomi turned to Anna. “I’m going to give you a quick exam, okay?”
“My own sister,” said Anna. “Dammit. This isn’t quite what I’d planned.”
Then Naomi heard Anna’s breathing change, and things sped up again. Shit. Anna was fully dilated. And crowning.
“Where is that damned ambulance?”
“Close, I’m sure,” said Rig, moving to stand next to her. “Wow,” was all he said.
Jake stood at Anna’s head, holding her hand, and was so pale Naomi prayed they wouldn’t have to pick him up off the floor. He was a firefighter, for Pete’s sake. He’d be able to handle this, right? He must have delivered babies a time or three.
But never one that mattered this much, she’d bet.
“Well, this show is sure on the road, huh?” said Rig. Was that a laugh in his voice?
Naomi shot him a suspicious look. Yes, it was. “What’s funny about this?”
“Nothing’s funny, Doc. But there’s gonna be a baby here in a few minutes, and that’s pretty damn great.”
Joy. That’s what it was in his eyes. Naomi drew it in with one long breath, and he gave her a look that made her heart pound even faster than it already was.
“Yep, Anna, you’re ready to go.”
“I am not,” said Anna around another contraction. “I’m not at the hospital . . . I can’t . . .”
“Hold on, and don’t push until I tell you to. Rig, can you round up some paper gowns? And the infant suction pump? Paper towels, too, lots of them. Everything we’ll need.”
Rig nodded. As he passed by her shoulder, he paused. She smelled of grass and wind. He dipped his head to her ear and said, “Breathe.”
He was right. She had to remember to tell Anna to breathe—this was what Rig was good at, remembering what the patient needed, making what they were doing the number one priority.
“Anna, honey, breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. It’s going to be all right.”
“No,” said Rig. “I meant you. Don’t you forget to breathe. It’s going to be all right.”
And then he dropped a kiss on her lips, a kiss so light and quick it might not have happened except that she heard Jake snort. Rig had kissed her. He’d really kissed her again. Even with the drama in the room, Naomi’s heart took flight, and hope, the best feeling of all, flowed through her like a heady, sweet wine.
Then Rig was gone, out of the room to get supplies, and Anna was panting again, and Jake turned his attention to her while Naomi monitored the baby that was on the way out, stat.
“Now, Anna, now. The baby’s head is coming, push.”
With a scream that Naomi was sure the entire dance had heard just a few closed doors away, Anna pushed. The head came out. The eyes were closed tight, the face squinched up as Anna took another breath. Naomi felt tears spring to her eyes that she didn’t have time for.
“Good girl, that’s exactly right. Now wait, wait . . . Just a second.” Naomi, moving quickly, made sure the cord was in the right place.
“I can’t DO this,” said Anna. “Naomi, I can’t.” Her voice was almost inaudible.
“Of course you can.”
“I can’t.”
Memories of conversations, times she’d shared with her sister, the good times, flooded her brain. Naomi stood up from her stool and looked over her sister’s knees. Her words tumbled over each other, and she spoke as fast as she could. “You remember when you said you couldn’t skateboard? And when you said you were too scared to skydive? And that time you said you’d never try to hop a freight train? Or that you couldn’t learn Spanish?”
Anna’s eyes opened for a second. “So what?”
“Whenever you’ve said you can’t do something, that’s right before you do it. That’s what I love about you.” Naomi sat back down on the stool, her hands in place. “You always do whatever you want to, and you do it just right.”
Her sister’s only response was a gasp as the next contraction came.
“Now, Anna. It’s time now.” Naomi hadn’t even heard Rig come back in the room with the supplies she’d hoped she wouldn’t need, but now he was next to her, his hands near hers, not trying to get in her way, not impeding her work as Anna pushed as hard as a human could. He was just with her. Ready to help if she needed him. Next to her.
Anna pushed.
The baby squirmed completely out—she was perfect and tiny, red and wriggling, and gasping almost as hard as her mother was. Suddenly, Naomi’s sister was a mother, and she was an aunt. Before she started the routine that went into place now, checking Anna, tying the umbilical cord, getting her ready for transport when the ambulance finally showed up—she could just hear the siren now—she held her tiniest new relative and watched her eyes open for the very first time. Naomi suctioned the tiny mouth and nose and the child’s first cries, an angry catlike mewling, were the sweetest sounds she’d ever heard. Every birth she attended felt like a miracle, but this one made her sure that nothing else would ever be able to compare.
Jake stood next to her, angling to catch a glimpse. “Anna, it’s a girl,” he said, his voice choked. “And she’s gorgeous.”
Naomi’s eyes caught Rig’s, and he dropped a slow wink, a grin stealing over his whole face. Her cheeks hurt from smiling back. Blinking hard, she looked at Jake. This man was in Anna’s life.
Much like her father had been in Maybelle’s life when Naomi was born.
“Jake. Do you want to give Anna her daughter?”
Jake’s cheeks went from pale to bright red. “Y-yes. If I don’t drop her.” He looked at Rig. “Don’t let me drop her.”
“You got this,” said Rig. “You’re good at this part, remember?”
Jake took the baby, wrapped in a paper dressing gown, from Naomi, his hands tentative, but steady. He looked down at her, and a smile to match his brother’s lit up his face. Turning to Anna, he said, “Look what you did. You’re amazing.”
Anna’s face was like sunlight.
When Anna had her baby in her arms, after she’d touched her head with wondering fingers, she lifted her face to Jake and said, “What do you think?”
Jake dropped a kiss on Anna’s head. “I love her. I think she’s as beautiful as her mother.”
The words were intimate, but Naomi couldn’t help staring at Jake. There, in that gaze, Naomi saw her own father. That look—Dad had always looked at her that way. Always.
That was the look of a father who loved a daughter.
Something caught in Naomi’s throat, and as she moved to the sink, she almost stumbled. Eliza had been right, even though she’d sent her to find more of her kin. Blood didn’t make a family. Love did.
In a moment, she’d turn from the sink, and Rig would be there. So damn close she could reach out and . . . Her hands started to shake as she washed them again. And she, Naomi, knew she’d found love. She prayed she could keep it, but even if it wasn’t returned, she’d had it, at least for a little while.
Chapter Fifty-seven
Love through everything.
—E.C.
The paramedics swept up Anna and the baby while Naomi put together what they had to take and filled out a form that needed signing.
“Please,” Anna said, “Let Jake come with us. Please?”
The crew made an exception to the rule—it was
Captain Keller, after all—and loaded up at the back door.
“I’ll be there soon!” Naomi yelled as the doors shut behind Anna, desperate for her sister to know she was still there. “I’m right behind you.”
No lights or sirens, rolling code two since both patients’ vitals were good, the ambulance drove away into the night.
“And I’m right behind you.” Rig’s voice was gentle and the night was warm, but a shiver ran down Naomi’s spine.
She turned. It was too much to hope that he really meant it, the way she wanted him to. But still, the tiny flutter she felt at every pulse beat wouldn’t let her stop hoping.
In the distance, Naomi could hear the surf pound against the sand. Sounds traveled farther at night, she knew, the fog creating a shell above them. She heard a seagull cry, and a car alarm, quickly silenced. She could feel the mist making her hair curl, and wished she didn’t still have the paper gown over her pretty dance dress.
Rig leaned against the concrete wall, the streetlight above him illuminating the tops of his cheekbones—they stood out stark against his face. The joy she’d seen in him inside had fled, leaving him serious. Quiet.
She had to tell him the truth. He might never feel the same way about her—probably still hated her—but she had to say it. She’d live through whatever came next, she knew that now.
“I love you.” Her throat ached as she said the words—they’d been locked so far inside her that it hurt when she released them. “I know you don’t feel the same way, but you needed to know so we can still work together. And I’ll be fine as a business partner, I promise. I just needed you to know. Just—that I love you, Rig.”
Rig didn’t say anything. A vein pulsed at his throat, a tiny motion she longed to touch, and couldn’t.
Well. That was that, then. She’d gotten mixed signals from him in there, and that was her fault. She would just deal with her feelings, and keep feeling them, and now that they were out of her, in the open air . . . The pain of it hit her so hard that she almost cried out. Inside, she’d just get inside and—
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