Let There Be Life

by Melissa Storm

  “Okay, you’re going to need to explain that one.”

  He laughed and let down his seat-back table in one fluid motion. Everything seemed to excite him as if he’d never been on a plane before. Perhaps he hadn’t. “I know. It surprised me, too. So I called Ben when we were both driving back to the city, and I told him about us trying to find Bingham.”

  “Why would you do that? Didn’t it hurt him to know I’m searching for my real dad?”

  Dorian frowned as if she’d said something to upset him. “First off, I don’t think real and biological mean the same thing—and I don’t think Ben sees it that way, either. Second, he said he understood and wanted to help, even if it was from a distance. That’s kind of what I was hedging my bets on when I asked for his number.”

  “When did you—?”

  “When you went to talk to Lauren and Shane in their bedroom.”

  Her jaw dropped to her chest. She hadn’t realized Dorian was scheming in the other room as she was creating schemes of her own. What a pair they were turning out to be!

  “Yeah, I’m a sneaky one, but you knew that already. What you don’t know is that your dad gave me a list of addresses and places to check out once we’re in Charleston. He basically gave us a full itinerary, so we’re not searching blind.” His chest puffed with pride at having approached their trip so intelligently. She’d give him a hard time if she weren’t so grateful for all he’d managed to do for them in such a short time.

  One thing still didn’t make sense. Her father had come to the cabin alone. “And where does Vanessa factor into all of this?”

  “Well, when Ben emailed the tickets over later, I could see they’d been paid for by her frequent flyer miles and that she had chosen to use more to upgrade us.”

  At the wedding, her dad had said Vanessa liked her too well. Could that actually be true? Well, this was the first thing to suggest it, and Liz still had a hard time believing it. She shook her head at Dorian, insistent that it was her dad who had paid. That made sense. “Yeah, but he could have been using her account.”

  Dorian popped his table back into the seat in front of him and turned toward her, his cheek resting against the chair. “Maybe. But isn’t it nice to believe the best in people sometimes?”

  Who was this man? Every time she thought she’d figured him out, he’d go and say something like that. It seemed impossible that the Dorian Whitley she’d met at the wedding could be the same Dorian Whitley that brushed his fingers over the back of her hand now. That smiled at her and caused her to smile back. That made her heart soar higher than any plane ever could.

  Moments later, the jet began to roll across the runway, and Liz checked her seatbelt to make sure it was firm across her lap. Once they were in the sky, Dorian unlatched his belt and turned to her again. He’d clearly been waiting for this moment.

  “Our flight is going to be a long one,” he explained, squeezing her hand tight. She hadn’t even realized they’d still been holding onto each other. “So what can you tell me about yourself in, oh, ten hours?”

  Ten hours getting to know Dorian better. Hearing his secrets now that he’d learned all of hers. It would go by in no time at all.

  The sun had just begun to set as they flew over Charleston Harbor. The sky released brilliant shades of purple, pink, and orange, enveloping the plane the moment it dropped beneath the clouds.

  Liz was glad Dorian had insisted she take the window seat, because she would have regretted missing this. It was as if the entire city had put on this display to welcome her home.

  “So does any of it seem familiar yet?” Dorian asked while they waited for her bag at the luggage claim.

  “Like maybe I once took this journey in reverse?” She shook her head. “No, nothing like that.”

  “Well, the night is young, and we have a long list of places to visit. Where would you like to start?” He pulled out his phone and brought up the notes app where he’d stored all the information Ben had given him.

  During the flight, he’d shared that list with Liz. And faced with the decision of actually going to one of these places now, she chose the place she knew would be most difficult.

  “Let’s go to the cemetery,” she said, spying her suitcase on the conveyor belt and pointing it out to Dorian.

  “You’re just jumping in with both feet, aren’t you?” He wore a look of admiration as he returned her bag to her.

  She loved the way he looked at her, especially when he was impressed by something she’d done. It had become a kind of drug, surprising Dorian, showing him just how strong she could be all on her own. “Well, you keep saying I’m brave, and I’d hate to prove you wrong.”

  Vanessa had booked a hotel and car for them, too, which Liz now really appreciated. What she didn’t appreciate was the flashy Audi coupe standing before her.

  “This is—” A bit ridiculous, she planned to say.

  “Awesome!” Dorian cried, running his hand over the sleek edges of the car appreciatively. “Sure beats my truck.”

  “I like your truck,” she argued. It was a part of him, whereas this flashy vehicle represented Vanessa. Yup, she’d take his rustbucket of an F150 any day of the week.

  Dorian’s happiness as he slipped onto the leather seats quickly changed her mind. Maybe Vanessa often went too far when it came to appearances, but at least her heart seemed to be in the right place.

  And now Liz knew for sure Vanessa had made the travel arrangements for them. Her dad always rented the same make and model of the current car he drove, said it was like having a piece of home away from home.

  Liz smiled, thinking of her dad and all the little quirks that made her love him. She had quirks, too. Much of who she’d become was a direct result of how he’d raised her. He’d encouraged her to explore even though she now knew he’d chosen to hide some adventures from her. Even now he wanted her to find what she was looking for. He wanted her to be happy, complete—and she loved him dearly for it.

  Dorian let out a low whistle, drawing her attention back to him. “Built-in GPS. How perfect is that?” He punched in the address of the cemetery, and they were off.

  During the flight, Dorian had shared stories of his grandmother, his college days, even his first love. She’d worked hard to keep him talking so that she wouldn’t have to offer much about her past. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to tell him about her life, but rather, she didn’t yet know how her perfect memories might have become tainted by the truth of her father’s sins.

  Now, however, standing in front of the little pink granite headstone etched with a lamb and praying hands, she couldn’t stop sharing.

  “My sister.” She gasped, and Dorian slipped an arm around her waist to support her. “I never even knew she existed. That feels so wrong.”

  He stared down reverently at the grave with her. “How would your life have been different if she’d lived?”

  “Everything would have changed. Maybe my father wouldn’t have taken me at all. Maybe he’d have taken both of us. I just… it’s so weird, being here. I feel like I’ve betrayed her by not remembering her all these years.” She rested her head on his shoulder and they stood together, joined.

  “You never met her. You never knew,” he whispered in consolation.

  “Actually, I’m starting to now. I remember feeling her kick,” Liz said as she let her eyes drift unfocused toward the horizon. “My mom, she put my hand on her belly. She was wearing this shirt with a beautiful black stallion on the front. It was my favorite piece of clothing she owned, so she wore it often. I remember staring at the horse’s nose and being so surprised when it twitched. That’s when my mom let me feel her and asked if I was ready to be a big sister.”

  She laughed sadly as the long-forgotten memory continued to gallop forth. “I said no. I didn’t want to share. She was my mommy, and nobody else’s.” Liz used her forearm to wipe at her nose, then laughed again. “What a little brat I was.”

  “That’s normal,” Do
rian said, using one hand to massage her shoulder as they talked. “I remember being just as awful when my little sister was born, but she turned out okay. Now we have all these good memories together. Even though we were never close, we were always there for each other, you know?”

  She felt the tears coming, and she let them fall. How many had cried at this headstone? How many even knew about the little girl who was laid to rest before she ever had the chance to live a life outside the womb? “I don’t. I never got the chance to know her, to make any memories other than this one.”

  “Well, let’s fix that now.” Dorian sounded excited, and she was grateful that he wanted to help. But how was it even possible? The past was gone. She’d never recover what she’d lost.

  “Let’s make some memories for you and your sister,” he explained when she didn’t encourage him to say more.

  The tears fell down her cheeks and onto her bright turquoise blouse below. “Dorian, you can’t just make up memories.”

  But he wouldn’t give up on fixing the unfixable. “Why not?” he demanded. “Here, I’ll even help get you started.”

  He reached for both her hands and held onto them as he spoke, facing her. It was the same position a couple took when exchanging vows. Yet the two of them were inventing memories—her sister’s grave officiating. “Your mother just came home from the hospital carrying the baby bassinet. She introduces you to your little sister, and the first thing you notice is how she has bright red hair just like you.”

  Liz laughed. She was beginning to understand his idea, and she liked it. “Then my mom whispers in my ear that the three of us are going on an adventure someday very soon, and I say that as long as I have my mommy, I will go anywhere.”

  Now Dorian added to the memory again. “She introduces you to Ben and says he’s her very good friend and he’s going to help take you on the adventure. You pack up and leave for Anchorage the next day.”

  “It’s a long drive, but I like showing my sister all the sights through the window. When we get to Alaska, they have a new puppy for me, an Akita named Goliath.”

  “And if memory serves, you have a great time riding that dog all over the house like a pony, but you also get plenty of time to ride horses, because your mom opens up her own stables right there in Anchorage.”

  She pictured it. Every word came alive as Dorian spoke. This could have been real. It could have been her life.

  “Soon I can’t remember any other life, and I start calling Ben Dad. I like him much better than the man who used to yell at and hurt mommy. I love horses best, but my little sister is all about the dogs. Our father gets involved in the sledding community to share this passion with her.”

  “As your sister gets older, she begins to race. She’s amazing at it, and you often go to her races to cheer from the sidelines. At one such event, you meet a handsome but awkward reporter. He asks you to dance.” He squeezed her hands and widened his eyes as if expecting her to curtsey and begin an old-fashioned waltz.

  “And I remind him there is no dancing at sled dog events. Unless it’s the Miners and Trappers ball.”

  “And I say, we don’t need permission to dance.” Dorian took Liz in his arms and swayed with her in the breeze.

  She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heart. “Thank you. I liked that.”

  “I like this,” he said, spinning her in his arms.

  “I could have still had the same life. Well, in a lot of ways the same. We lost a lot, my father and I both, when we lost Mom and baby Elizabeth, but we still had a lot, too.”

  “And you’re still you, either way.”

  “And we still get to dance, either way.”

  The dancing freed something in her, made the invented memory feel so real. Now as Dorian turned her this way and that, she imagined her sister and her mother sharing a similar dance in Heaven.

  Whether or not she ever got the chance to really know them, she now had memories to fill in the gaps of time.

  And that would be more than enough.

  They left the graveyard and drove straight to the old Bingham family home.

  “This is it,” Liz said as their car idled at the curb in front of a modest, ranch-style home. “Even in the dark, I can recognize it from the newspaper photo we found online.”

  “Do you remember it?”

  “A little.” She got out of the car and walked up the driveway.

  Dorian turned off the engine and followed. “Do you think he still lives here?”

  “Anything seems possible with all I’ve learned these past weeks. We at least need to ask,” she explained while they climbed the two steps up onto the expansive porch.

  They stood side by side as Liz pressed the doorbell. After a series of gongs and chimes, an old woman answered the door. She wore pink pearls and cat-eye glasses like a character straight out of the musical Grease. Her hair was neatly coifed but had gone completely gray without the slightest hint of dye.

  “May I help you, sugar?” she asked with a thick, raspy drawl.

  “We’re looking for the man who used to live here,” Liz said with a smile she hoped would communicate the harmlessness of their visit. “Charles Bingham?”

  The woman shook her head. “No, I don’t know anyone by that name. Sorry, shugs.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Dorian said, nodding to the woman before she closed her door shut.

  “Well, that was a dead end,” Liz said with a sigh.

  “It’s something we can cross off the list, which means we’re that much closer in our search.” Dorian draped an arm over her shoulder as they walked back down the driveway.

  Liz stopped walking partway down and stooped to run her hands over the spiky grass. “I remember having a little pool shaped like a turtle, right here on this lawn. Mom would pull out a lawn chair and sip on a giant glass of sweet tea while I splashed away the afternoon.” She closed her eyes for a moment and relived one of those days in her mind. When she reopened them, she saw Dorian had knelt beside her.

  “Sweet tea sounds good,” he said, helping her back up to her feet. “Should we go get some—and maybe dinner, too—while we figure out our next steps?” They reached the car, and he opened her door for her.

  After a short drive around town, they found a restaurant with so many cars parked around it, some had pulled up onto the grass.

  “This one,” Liz said, pointing its way.

  “Are you sure? Looks like it will be a long wait.”

  “But that means it’s good, right?” Liz poked his arm playfully and even winked at him. “And besides, we have all the time in the world.”

  Despite the obvious rush, they were seated right away. They both ordered the house favorite and giant glasses of tea—sweet tea for Liz and an Arnold Palmer for Dorian.

  “I think we should try calling him again,” she said as they waited for the server to bring out their twin platters of barbequed chicken with a side of homemade macaroni and cheese.

  “You sure?” Dorian asked before taking another long gulp of his drink.

  She nodded. “I am. One way or another, we have to find him.”

  “But what if you already know everything there is to know? What if meeting him only disappoints you—or worse—hurts you?” He reached across the table to stroke her hand. His eyes begged her to be careful with her heart, both where Bingham was concerned and otherwise.

  “That’s a risk I have to take.” Liz squeezed his hand and let it go, dropping both of hers into her napkined lap. “If not, I’ll always wonder. I’ll always expect to find him around the next corner, waiting for me.”

  “And that’s no way to live a life.” Dorian stood and pulled his phone out of the pocket. “I saved his number under Warwick, because you know, that’s what I thought his name was. Here, you call this time. Leave a message if you want to.”

  Liz took a deep breath before accepting the phone. Even though calling had been her idea, she immediately pressed the button to call befor
e she could lose her nerve. The line rang several times before clicking over to voicemail.

  “Should I leave a message?” she asked Dorian in a sudden state of panic.

  “Might as well,” he answered with a gesture encouraging her to go ahead.

  The phone beeped, and Liz spoke in a hurry. “Hi, it’s Liz. I mean, Janie. I recently found out that you’re my father, and I’d really like to meet you, if that’s okay. You can call me back on this number. I’m with Dorian in Charleston. Umm, tomorrow morning we’ll be at the Golden Meadow Stables, if you wanted to meet up there. I’d really like the chance to get to know you. I hope you get this. Bye.”

  She finally allowed herself to breathe as she handed the phone back to Dorian. He was her father. He’d been looking for her nearly three decades. He wanted to meet her, too. So why did she feel so frightened by the prospect?

  “So the Stables tomorrow then?” Dorian asked.

  “Do you think he’ll turn up?” she asked, still trembling from the rush of the call.

  He shrugged and played with his straw, spinning it around in his nearly empty glass. “Honestly, I’ve stopped assuming to know what that man will do next. I hope so, though.”

  “Me too,” Liz said, which was half true.

  Just because something’s scary doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing, she told herself as the waiter plunked down their meals before them.

  They said the truth will set you free, but sometimes it felt like the truth had made Liz a prisoner in her own life. Would meeting Bingham change all that? Or would it be like putting on even more shackles?

  There was only one way to find out…

  The morning sun rose high over Golden Meadow Stables. This had been Liz’s second home as a little girl, and she found herself recalling little snatches of memories as she and Dorian walked through the property the following morning.

  She had told Bingham they’d be here, ready to talk—but whether he’d actually come, no one could say for sure. For all they knew, he was still searching for her in Anchorage.