Child of Mine

by Beverly Lewis

  San didn’t help matters by calling just then. “Do you have any idea what Angela just told me?”

  Jack sighed. “I can guess.”

  San churned through the next five minutes, blaming him for not exiling Laura to her Amish farm. “You can’t let this one get away, Jack. Angela’s a keeper.”

  Jack barely concealed his frustration. “I think she’s already gone.”

  “Jack Livingston!” San’s irritation was palpable. “No wonder you’re not married. You have to fight for her.”

  But he couldn’t tell San why he wouldn’t fight for Angela. San would have come undone. As it was, his sudden disinterest rankled the pugnacious go-getter, and she refused to back down. Sometimes, talking to San was like a dog chasing his tail. She continued pounding at him verbally until Nattie walked in the door, showing off her new hummingbird pajamas.

  “Gotta go, sis.”

  In midstream, San ignored him.

  “Sis, I’m hanging up now—”

  “We’re not done, Jack!”

  “Later, okay?”

  “Jack—”

  Click.

  Sorry, Jack thought. I’ll call her back when she cools down.

  After they prayed together, Nattie asked if Angela was mad at them.

  “No,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter anyway.”

  “Why?” The hopeful look on Nattie’s face melted his heart.

  Jack told her what he’d been thinking, that maybe he wasn’t ready to date after all, and Nattie sprung out of her bed, hugging him tightly. “I was holding my breath!” she exclaimed.

  Jack was unsure where to go from here. The future seemed as hazy and unclear as before. Nothing’s solved.

  With infectious enthusiasm, Nattie dug under her quilt, extracting Dewey the Dolphin and presenting it to him like a reward for his decision. Jack stared at the perennial grin of the seafaring creature and waited for her explanation.

  “Dolphins have their own secret language,” she said. “But even if you can’t understand their words, you can understand their feelings. Kinda like me and Laura.”

  Jack kissed her forehead. “You two have something very special.”

  Nattie nodded solemnly. “She’s my bestie.”

  Jack shut off the light, and from inside his little girl’s room, Nattie whispered, “You know, sometimes it’s hard being a kid.”

  “Try being a grown-up,” he replied.

  “No thanks,” Nattie muttered. “I can wait.”

  Me too, Jack thought.

  Chapter 16

  With no urgency to get to the office early, Jack slept in the next morning until Nattie came barging in, wearing jean shorts and a Minnie Mouse T-shirt, her upper lip frosted with a greenish foam. “You do not want to go downstairs, Dad.”

  Jack leaned up, squinting into the new day.

  “I’m serious. Stay in here till the coast is clear!”

  “Huh?”

  Nattie disappeared down the hall without explanation. Jack smiled. Living with Nattie was like a never-ending merry-go-round. He got up, put on his robe, and looked down into the kitchen. Laura was busy at the blender. He spotted the kale leaves and blueberries.

  “Oh boy,” he muttered.

  Laura looked up, gave him a thumbs-up, and pointed to her green concoction, an overly wide smile gracing her face. She pressed a button and the blender began twirling and buzzing. No doubt she’d discovered a new smoothie recipe designed for the overall health and well-being of the Livingston family. Hopefully, this one has more honey than the last time, Jack mused, glad that Laura didn’t seem ruffled at all from last evening’s fiasco.

  He wandered down the hall, smiling at Nattie’s unusual morning cheerfulness, most likely tied to last night’s decision to abandon dating. He knocked on her door. “Nattie-bug?”

  “Hark!”

  He opened her door, and she was sitting on her bed, staring at some of her artwork. She raised her arms and twiddled her fingers, a Nattie-request for a hug, and he complied.

  Nattie was a hug bug. When she was younger, Jack would peek in her room, and sleepy-eyed, she’d grin and extend her arms to the sky, wiggling her fingers, “Hug me, hug me.” Although Jack hadn’t grown up in an affectionate family, he was quickly disabused of that notion. Nattie would have none of it. Due to her own upbringing, even Laura wasn’t all that demonstrative, and yet she, too, had succumbed to Nattie’s sheer exuberance.

  ———

  Later that morning, after obliging Laura and consuming a full glass of her healthy concoction, Jack puttered around in the garage. He overheard the unmistakable song of the ice cream truck, a tinkling tin xylophone rendition of “Tones for Cones.” Or was that “Sprinkle Twinkle”?

  Nattie came scrambling in and held up his wallet, deftly retrieved from his desk inside.

  “Hurry!” she said.

  “Hey, we have ice cream in the freezer.”

  Nattie fidgeted. “This is special ice cream.”

  Jack sighed. Ice cream was always creamier on the other side of the fence. He examined a ten and was about to trade it for a five when Nattie swooped in and removed it from his grasp. “Thanks, Dad!”

  “I’ll expect some change,” he called after her but heard only giggles.

  She seems fine, he thought, recalling the dinner date last night. Thank goodness.

  Jack texted Angela later that afternoon, but she didn’t respond. He texted again that evening and still no reply.

  The following day, he dialed Angela’s number, but she never picked up. On the second call, he left a message. “It was wonderful spending time with you, Angela. Have a great week.”

  San called again, having recovered her temper, and politely encouraged Jack to keep trying with Angela. “Besides, Nattie mustn’t have that kind of control,” she told him. “You’re in charge.”

  “It wasn’t Nattie—”

  “Well, then you need to talk to Laura, get things straightened out with her.”

  Ain’t happening, Jack thought, wary of the prospect of confronting the nanny over the silly notion that Angela supposed Laura had romantic feelings for him.

  “Keep in mind that Angela Walberg won’t be single forever,” San finished, clearly displeased with Jack’s lack of courage. “So I’ll say farewell for now.”

  Relieved, Jack said good-bye and hung up.

  He wandered out the back door and found Laura sitting out on the porch, gently swinging to the rhythmic squeak of the two-seater. He stood there quietly, taking in the sunset.

  Laura looked as wistful as he felt. Occasionally, at the end of her work day, instead of leaving immediately, she would sit and swing, watching Nattie play in the back or simply soaking up the ambience of the tree-lined property.

  It was the best setting he could have provided for Nattie, and he was grateful again to his brother for handpicking such an idyllic home. The newer two-story was located on the far edge of the neighborhood, at the end of the block, and framed by their own little grove of maples, oaks, and elms, highlighted by a single flowering dogwood. In the fall, the colors were magnificent.

  Laura smiled. “So peaceful tonight, ain’t?”

  “Would you like something cold to drink?” he asked.

  She gave him a playful look. “That’s my job.”

  “Let me,” he said, and she acquiesced, suggesting the meadow tea she liked to make. He found some in a pitcher and poured a glass for her over ice. Rummaging in the food saver, he located a lemon, cut a wedge, and pressed it into the rim of her glass.

  Back outside, he presented the iced tea.

  “Goodness, Jack. I think you’ve got this dating thing down perty gut.” Instantly, she turned red. “Sorry, that wasn’t—”

  Jack waved it off.

  “Where’s your drink?”

  “Not thirsty.”

  Sitting next to her, Jack enjoyed the lingering scent of the late blooming lilacs from the bushes across the fence, mingling with the smell of f
reshly mown grass. Behind them came the tinkling of the wind chime hanging from the eaves. A rare tranquil moment.

  The scent of lilacs could send him into aromatic heaven, and he mentioned as much to Laura.

  “Lilac’s my favorite, too.” She described her parents’ lilac bushes in Lancaster County. As a child, she liked to cut a stem each day for a month, placing the flowers in a vase for her mother. “One of my happiest memories.”

  Jack was surprised to hear her open up about her childhood. One story led to another, and soon Laura was sharing about the first time a boy had ever given her flowers.

  “A boy or a beau?” he asked nonchalantly.

  Laura went silent at that, and Jack wondered if he’d embarrassed her.

  Later, when the stillness became too awkward, he said, “We should plant our own lilac bush.”

  “I’d love that,” Laura murmured.

  “Is it too late in the season?”

  “We could check.” Laura pointed to his cell phone there in the space between them.

  “Sure, go ahead.” He was humored by her interest in technology. She’s practically fancy already.

  The answer immediately showed up on a link. “Not too late, at all,” she replied excitedly. “But there won’t be any blossoms till next year.”

  “Let’s plant a bush or two tomorrow.”

  Her enthusiasm took flight. “Tomorrow, it is!”

  They sat for another half hour or so, casually chatting. When the sun toppled beyond the trees at the back of his property, they were quiet, unwilling to disturb the moment.

  Eventually, Laura said something about getting back to Apple Creek. And ten minutes later, she made good on it. Jack walked her to her car, to make sure the engine would start. If it didn’t, he’d have the pleasure of driving her home again.

  The motor roared to life, and she waved. After she drove away, he wandered back to the house, noting how very empty the house seemed.

  Nattie was in the great room playing her Lego computer game, her eyes twinkling when she saw him. “So . . . did you have a nice swing?”

  Nattie spared him more questions, too busy wielding her controls, guiding her little man through a dangerous forest. He watched for a few minutes, enjoying the beeping musical sounds until Nattie put down her controls and came over to the couch and sat with him.

  She put her hand on his arm, her face sympathetic. It would have been almost comical if she hadn’t seemed so serious.

  “What’s your thought bubble?” he asked her.

  She searched his face. “Are you sad about Angela?”

  “I liked her, but I don’t think she’s right for us.”

  Considering this, Nattie bit her lip, then seemed satisfied with his answer. “Wanna play a racing game with me?”

  Jack agreed.

  “But I have to warn you. I’m out to win!” Nattie said, retrieving the second set of controls and handing it to Jack.

  “I’ve never noticed that about you before,” he joked.

  The next day, Jack helped Laura plant two mature lilac bushes on the south side of the house—carefully removing the root ball from its burlap wrapping. He dug an ample hole, making sure to cut a wide two-foot circle for expansion. Then Laura and he spread topsoil once the bushes were planted.

  During the remainder of June, Laura found a number of new gardening projects, enlisting Nattie’s help. In the evenings when Jack was home from the airfield, Nattie and Laura gave Jack an account of the day’s accomplishments: a flowering vine on a trellis below the porch, a smattering of pink roses on a white arbor, delphiniums, hollyhocks, daisies, peonies, and black-eyed Susans, among others.

  The exterior of the house was slowly becoming transformed into a botanical garden.

  Later, as the sun fell to the horizon, the three of them often hurried to the back porch for the sunset. Nattie, especially, liked to watch the hummingbirds’ antics close to twilight, before they headed for their nests in the grove of trees.

  Laura also surprised Nattie with a hummingbird video documentary, which they watched together repeatedly, comparing it with the identification book Jack found at the library. With the help of Jack’s camera, Nattie classified the several varieties and, of course, itemized them according to favorites. The green violet-ear, the fastest hummingbird with its shimmering green body and a velvet patch beneath its ears, was her number one. Each time a new hummer appeared in the yard, it became an event of magnificent proportions.

  Eventually, nearly half of Jack’s office wall was filled with pictures of Nattie’s birds, mostly ruby-throated, but sometimes a feisty rufous or a rare calliope. She loved their diving aerobatics but lamented their territorial fighting. “Why can’t they just share?” she’d ask.

  Conveniently, there were occasions when Nattie disappeared to her room, leaving Laura and Jack to occupy the swing and pretend to be ignorant of her rather obvious agenda.

  Truth be told, Jack was beginning to savor those quiet moments with Laura, hearing her childhood stories, honored to at last be ushered into her secret world, especially considering her privacy over the years. But it also made him nervous. Why now?

  The rest of June was slow at Higher Ground, due to days of high winds, low ceilings, and heavy rains, although Jack’s company made some bucks flying photographers and other thrill seekers. The Salt Fork State Park, sixty miles to the southeast, never failed to attract a handful of fanatics intent on spotting the elusive Bigfoot, and Jack—definitely a cynic himself—was more than willing to fly them over the woods, if only to enjoy the beauty.

  During the beginning of July, the flying weather improved and so did business. In addition to a few quick out-of-state trips and flying the corporate jet for his bigwig clients, Higher Ground fielded a healthy assortment of renters and certification seekers, all of which helped fill out an otherwise uneventful month. When he wasn’t flying, Jack spent his free time with Nattie, taking her to the municipal pool, driving through the local Dairy Queen a couple times a week, and taking in family movies at the local cinema.

  On the spur of the moment, Jack and Nattie even flew together on short sight-seeing trips, but not as often or as far as Jack had anticipated. Nattie’s multitude of friends were in and out of the house on a regular basis, hanging out in her room, or in the backyard tree house, or digging in the dirt at the end of their property. He got whiplash trying to keep track of their names.

  Laura had yet to make her “English” debut. Jack figured she’d changed her mind. It certainly wasn’t his place to inquire. Most important, she hadn’t said another word about leaving for Lancaster County.

  They celebrated Nattie’s ninth birthday at the local pizza parlor, inviting ten of her BFFs. Jack had acquiesced to her insistence that four friends did not make a party.

  It was a rip-roaring time, and Laura seemed to enjoy it as much as Nattie, both of them ignoring the looks from curious patrons. This was in spite of the proliferation of Ohio Amish culture.

  Before the pizza had a chance to arrive, Nattie stood up and gestured to Laura sitting at the table nearby. “This is Laura Mast, my Amish nanny. If you think she dresses funny, get over it, because she’s my best friend in the world.”

  Laura brushed away a tear, clearly moved by Nattie’s refusal to be embarrassed of her.

  After the introduction, Nattie went to hug Laura. She then waved her arm toward Jack and announced loudly, “And this is my . . . dad. He flies airplanes for a living.”

  Everyone cheered, and Jack pushed out his chest.

  After they were home again, the house was overrun with giggling girls who spread sleeping bags on the floor in the great room, though sleeping was clearly not on their agenda.

  Jack looked over the banister and noticed Nattie in the middle of the group, telling a story. One of the girls pointed at Jack and Nattie turned, spotting him upstairs. She waved and went back to her story.

  In the past, Jack had used Nattie’s sleepovers to instill social behavior: h
ow to get along, how to treat your guests like royalty. More than once he’d forbidden the next week’s visit due to Nattie’s obnoxious behavior. And she had quickly modified her conduct.

  When Jack had reason to believe things were under control for the night, he headed for bed, although he was awakened later by explosive giggling.

  He noticed that Nattie must have come up at one point to replace his lion with her elephant, putting it on Jack’s pillow. Turning on the lamp, he read her note:

  Here’s the elephant in your room. Get it?

  Jack grinned sleepily. He doubted she got the whole elephant in the room nuance, but it was cute. And heartwarming. She might have been busy with her friends but never too busy to think of ol’ dad.

  Laura had left about nine that night. “I think the worst has passed,” she’d whispered, and he knew what she meant. Nattie seemed to have settled down since the evening with Angela Walberg. She hadn’t cried in weeks, and to Jack, it felt as if they were pitching a no-hitter. He was reluctant to address it, as if worried he might jinx the recovery.

  The whole notion of growing out of it was making sense. Perhaps Laura was right. Or maybe—just maybe—Nattie was holding her breath, not wanting to mess up what she thought was happening between her dad and her nanny.

  Either way, their lives seemed to have reached a peaceful rhythm, and spending time with Laura at day’s end continued as a routine. They’d become a happy little family of sorts, and Jack was determined not to disrupt the status quo.

  Kelly Maines’s summer was looking to be considerably less of a roller coaster than previous ones, when she’d spent the weeks raising money to find Emily and most weekends in a new city, plying her magic tricks for unsuspecting prospects. Instead, she was settling in to her new job, sleeping normal hours, and relishing the camaraderie of office life.

  By the middle of June, Ernie had recovered enough from pneumonia to have bypass surgery. On the day of the heart procedure, Kelly, along with Cindy, kept Ernie’s wife company in the waiting room.

  Four long hours later, Ernie was wheeled out on a gurney. His cardiac surgeon expressed cautious hope for a complete recovery and expressly forbade him from office work for at least a month. From Penny’s determined look, Kelly was sure she was going to hold her hubby to it.