I’m almost embarrassed to reveal the reason, afraid she’ll think I’ve overreacted. “My parents were at the ceremony, and… for whatever reason, he told them about us. I don’t think he realizes that they’ll find a way to ruin us now. They won’t let me be happy. They’ll suck me back into their world and won’t care if it makes me miserable.”
She wrinkles up her nose and tilts her head to the side. “And you think you don’t have any power to stop it? Sounds a little like giving up to me.”
I don’t say anything right away. I’m so used to Melissa praising me for everything I do that I’m a bit taken aback at being called out.
With a furrow of her brow, she sets her coffee cup down. “Try as we might, we can never fully hide out from the world. And I’d say that Jack was trying to do the honorable thing. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him having to lie right to your father’s face. In my eyes, he’d have been more of a coward to want to keep it quiet. No, Natalie, I think Jack did exactly the right thing.”
I open my mouth, ready to disagree, ready to tell her there’s more to it and that it isn’t about choosing to be brave or cowardly. But nothing comes out because she’s right.
I can see it now, a truth I’d have come to see on my own eventually.
You can’t hide forever.
“Thank you,” I tell her, yawning and stretching my arms out and feeling so incredibly tired all of a sudden. “I should probably call and apologize to him.”
“Maybe it can wait until morning? You might still be holding on to some anger, and it could come out again and start up a whole new fight. Sometimes I think it’s just best to sleep on things.”
Even though the urge to talk things through with Jack is strong, I decide it best to take her advice. “You’re right. I’ll wait until tomorrow.” I get up, push my chair in and pick up my cup. “You going back to bed too?” I ask when she seems to settle deeper into her seat and her cup of coffee.
“I’m going to sit up a little longer. Sometimes the middle of the night is the only quiet time I get.”
I offer a smile and a nod, then take my cup to the kitchen sink, wash it out and place it in the drying rack. It’s when I’m on my way back to the guest room that I startle at the sight of a person, just visible out of the corner of my eye. I throw my hand to my chest, taking in the figure that is a few steps down the currently dark stairwell that leads to the lower level of the house.
It isn’t some specter. It’s Camille with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“What are you—” I can’t even finish asking what she’s doing skulking around the stairwell when she breaks in.
“Voices carry when you think people aren’t listening.” Even in the shadows I note her glower turning up into a grin, her voice coming out in a harsh whisper. “Can’t say I’m shocked you’re such a spoiled brat and that you’ve been fucking your dad’s friend. I think I called it a while back, didn’t I?”
My mouth hangs open. Like in a nightmare, I can’t seem to find my voice even if I could find the words to fill it.
Her low laughter permeates the void. And then she leaves me with silence, turning and disappearing down the stairwell.
What’s she going to do now?
I’m unnerved, even a little afraid, but that has to stop now. Melissa was right. Jack was right. I can’t live my life hiding from people, spending my days worrying about what someone else might do or not do. That isn’t the kind of thing I’d teach the child that is growing inside of me. I’d want him or her to listen to their heart, to be strong and unafraid, to stand tall and not allow people who want to control you in some way to pull you down.
There can be no secrets now.
Camille can do whatever the fuck she wants.
Because now, I’m unafraid.
Chapter Twenty-Four
NATALIE
I startle awake, overcome with that feeling that I’ve done something really wrong, something I need to fix. It takes me a few seconds to clear the haze and to realize the fight I’d had with Jack last night is what’s responsible for this sensation.
No time is wasted in turning my phone back on, and when I see two texts and two missed calls from Jack, I don’t even read or listen to them—I just call him.
“Are you all right?” It’s the first thing that he asks when he picks up. There’s worry in his voice, and I’m pissed at myself for putting it there.
“I’m fine, and I’m sorry about last night. I know you were just trying to do the right thing.”
He sighs, and I can hear the relief in it. “I guess I’m just not very good at keeping secrets. But I am sorry, Natalie. I know you weren’t ready for them to know.”
“It was time. I think it’s a good thing.” I think about seeing Camille in the stairwell last night, that look on her face like she had something on me. But the secret is out—the power she was hoping to hold over me lost. “Are you still in Seattle? I really want to see you.”
“No, I’m back at the cabin. I drove in last night.”
“You did? Jack, I… I was being immature. I should have talked things out with you. If your mind was on other things, and you’d ended up crashing or—”
“Natalie, it’s okay.” His voice is so soothing. “We had a fight. It happens. And we’re talking it through now, and that’s all that matters.”
“I want to see you.” Desperately.
“I want to see you, too, but I’ve got to let you know your father is here, in Meadow Brook. He’s staying at a hotel in town, and he wants to see you.”
All of my newfound strength seems to dematerialize into a gut-twisting pang.
“You don’t have to see him alone. I can be with you if you want,” Jack says, as if sensing my trepidation.
“I don’t…” I pause, allowing myself a breath. “What if I don’t want to see him at all?”
“Then you don’t have to. But it might be good to get it over and done with.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that it won’t be good to see my father, but then I just feel like a little kid, scared and fearful. And wasn’t leaving Seattle, my parents and Michael, all about being an adult and making my own decisions? Don’t adults face their worst fears instead of shying away from them?
Thinking it through my head one last time, I tell him, “As long as you’re there, then yes, I’ll do it. It will have to be after work though.”
“I’ll tell him. It’s going to be okay,” he says. “I love you, you know?”
“Yes, Jack. And I love you too.”
I try to think of seeing Jack, and not my father, as I get in a quick shower and then get dressed. There’s just no use obsessing over what might happen during our meeting until something actually does.
Sounds of people talking and smells of delicious food pull me into the dining room where the table is set with fresh fruit, scrambled eggs and thick slices of toasted bread. Melissa and Barbara are both seated, enjoying their breakfast together. I’m usually not here this early in the morning and generally find Barbara on the couch working on her crosswords and puzzles, old sitcoms and movies playing on TV.
“Come and join us,” Melissa says, pointing to the chair I’d sat in last night, a plate in front of me ready to fill with food.
“Thanks, and good morning,” I say to both of them. “This is really nice.”
“My daughter could always cook a hell of a lot better than I could,” Barbara says, taking her time picking up a glass of orange juice and using both hands to move it to her lips.
“It does look delicious. May I?” I ask before I scoop anything onto my plate.
“Like you even need to ask.” Melissa smiles. “You’re part of the family, kid. What’s ours is yours.”
“And what the hell am I?” It’s Camille’s sharp toned voice, and all of us turn to look at her.
She’s dressed with a full face of makeup on, her hair pulled up into a thick ponytail. Her expression is pinched, her lips pressed into a
thin line.
“You’re a lot of things.” Barbara raises her brows but doesn’t expand on what those things are.
Melissa remains silent, and Camille sits down across from me, pouring juice and scooping up mounds of food onto her plate like she wants to make sure there’s hardly any left for me.
“What are you, eating for two of something?” Barbara poses the question to her granddaughter, eyeing her plate.
With a snide laugh, Camille says, “I’m not the one who’s knocked up.” After popping a slice of melon in her mouth, she points her fork toward me.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Barbara eyes Camille incredulously.
“You really just can’t help yourself, can you?” The look Melissa gives her daughter is hard and unyielding.
I’m not exactly sure how Camille knows I’m pregnant—she might have just gotten lucky in guessing. But if she thinks I’m going to allow her to hold it over my head, she’s got another thing coming.
I look Camille directly in her eyes and say, “It’s fine.” Then I turn to both Melissa and Barbara who I actually want to share my news with. “I am pregnant. It’s Jack’s, and we both want it. He’s already asked me to marry him, and the only reason I haven’t shared it yet is because I didn’t want to give her another reason to hate me.” I turn my attention back to Camille. “And if there’s anything else you overheard last night you’d like to blab, be my guest.”
“I…” Melissa looks from her daughter, then to me. “Natalie, I’m so happy for you, and so, so sorry for the trouble my daughter seems to want to cause you.”
Camille is seething, her teeth grinding behind closed lips.
“Well, that’s wonderful!” Barbara beams, seeming to ignore her granddaughter. “There isn’t any reason to be ashamed of a baby, especially when it’s wanted. And where is the ring, dear? I want to see the ring!”
There is a lightness in my chest, my muscles relaxing as I feel a smile spreading across my face. “I’ve got the ring in my overnight bag. We would have told you all eventually.”
Melissa puts her hand on mine. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us on your own timeline.”
Camille’s eyes nearly roll into the back of her head. “Jesus, it was just a guess! I didn’t even know she was.”
“Well, then you should have kept your mouth shut,” Barbara snaps.
“It’s fine… really. Everyone knows now. In a way, having it all out and talking about it has helped build up my reserve. My dad’s in town, and I’m sure he’s going to pull out all the stops to get me to go back to Seattle with him.”
Barbara’s face goes ashen. “But you won’t go, will you?”
“I’m not planning to.”
“Is there something we can do to help?” Melissa asks as though she’s willing to follow me into the trenches while Camille remains still and silent.
I shake my head. “Not anything that you haven’t already done. Honestly, it’s going to help telling him I’m employed and that I have friends here. He might not care, but it will give me the fortitude I need to stand my ground… well, that and Jack.”
“And when are you planning to meet with him?” Barbara asks, concern still edging her voice.
“I guess this evening, after I finish up here.”
Melissa nods thoughtfully. “If you’d like to get it over and done with sooner, I’m sure Camille would be pleased to work my shift at the diner so I can stay here with my mother.”
“Uggh!” Camille drops her fork on her plate with a loud clang. “Oh, I’d be pleased, would I?”
“That’s what family does!” Barbara’s voice is stern, and her eyes land directly on Camille. “You want to know how to be part of a family, then this is it!”
Camille grabs a strawberry, stuffs it in her mouth, then pushes her chair out and stands. I think she’s going to stomp off without a word, but with her mouth still half full, she says, “Fine! But I’m only doing it for the extra money.”
This is when I should probably tell Camille not to bother, that changing around schedules isn’t necessary when I’m the one they’re rearranging things for. But, truth be told, my nerves are picking up at the idea of facing my father, and I don’t want to be feeling that all day.
So, I call out, “Thank you!” to Camille as she’s turning away from the table.
But if she hears me, she doesn’t respond.
After a phone call to Jack about my time being freed up, it’s decided that my father will head to the cabin, and that’s where I’ll face him. While I’d prefer to meet him at his hotel, like I don’t want his presence contaminating the cabin, it’s probably best to stand up to him on our turf, for my father to witness with his own eyes that I’m making a place with Jack in Meadow Brook.
When I drive up, Dad’s Mercedes is parked next to Jack’s truck. He’s really here, and there’s no turning back.
I kind of want to throw up as I walk through the front door and catch sight of him, but I can’t be sure if it’s morning sickness or nerves or both. Jack stands and comes over to me while my father remains in the chair he’s sitting in, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. He makes no effort to look at me.
“We’ll get through this,” Jack whispers, leading me to the couch where we sit side by side. He slides his hand around my back, our thighs touching. He is making no effort to dilute what we have for my father.
In response to this unity, my father’s face grows red, his posture tense, his eyes protruding like he’s about to overflow with anger.
“I trusted you!” he says to Jack, nostrils flaring. “And you… you do this with my daughter?” He points and waves his finger at us.
“You have every right to be upset with me,” Jack replies calmly, “but, as I told you before, nothing about this was planned. It just—”
“Happened?” Dad’s eyes bore into me as a cruel laugh escapes his lips. “I can almost excuse you.” Then his eyes shift back to Jack. “But don’t you think you should have more control over yourself?”
Jack tightens his grip around my waist. “I apologize now and for as long as you need me to for the breach of trust, Lincoln. But you won’t hear me say this was a mistake. I love your daughter, and I’m going to marry her, and we’re going to raise our child together.”
I nearly lose my breath at Jack’s mention of our engagement and my pregnancy. Jack told me before I came over that he would make sure my father knew everything. And yet it’s still hard to look my father in the eyes when I know he doesn’t approve of me having a child this young.
“This isn’t love.” It’s his only response.
I’d been hiding my ring until then, covering it up beneath my clasped hands. But I show it now, having put it on when I’d left Melissa and Barbara’s.
No more secrets.
“It is love,” Jack professes.
My father laughs with pure disgust.
“What would you know about love?” I pose the question to my father, sliding to the edge of the couch cushion and straightening. “Do you actually even love Mom? Or did you just marry her because it’s what your parents wanted?”
Dad matches my move, sitting up straight as an arrow in his chair as a new shade of red covers his skin. “What your mother and I have is built on a strong foundation. It’s a successful union, and I’m not going to sit here and have my own daughter question it!”
“A union?” I continue, undeterred. “You make it sound like a business arrangement, and that’s all you wanted for me too! Did it matter to you or Mom that I didn’t even love Michael?”
“What’s not to love? He’s a decent young man with real prospects, not some cradle robbing liar who is still broken more than a year after his wife’s death!”
At that, Jack rises from the couch, his fists balling at his sides. “You have no right to bring that up, Lincoln.”
My father stands, but he can’t match Jack’s height, and I’m grateful the coffee table in the ro
om separates them. “And why not? It’s been over a year, and you run away just when our clinic is peaking, when more success than we could have ever hoped for is in our grasp. And then you take up with my daughter and knock her up like she’s some kind of replacement for—”
“Shut the fuck up!” The coffee table doesn’t stop Jack from tearing around it and grabbing my father by his collar with both hands, my dad’s face going from red to a shade of purple.
“Stop it!” I yell, jumping over the table and pushing at Jack. This isn’t the way this was supposed to go and probably the exact reason I hadn’t wanted my parents to find out about us.
After Jack has let go, Dad is catching his breath, his eyes furious and bent on whatever kind of revenge he can come up with. “He just… he just attacked me!”
Jack is just as angry, fuming, but he holds himself back.
“I’m going to have this baby, your grandchild.” I want to take some oxygen away from the fire, hoping the promise of a future grandson or granddaughter will at least make my father believe these wounds can be healed.
I expect some emotion from him, a reaction that isn’t anger or plotting. But very coolly and calmly, he says, “You better hope to hell Michael can look past this child or that he’ll claim it as his own. Otherwise, you better start planning for an abortion.”
The air feels as though it’s all been sucked out of the room. Stunned doesn’t begin to describe how I feel, but then, should I really be surprised?
Jack gasps and wraps his arm around me again. With a growl, he says, “We’re not getting rid of it. This is my child… mine and Natalie’s. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let another man claim it or take responsibility for it, and I’m sure as hell not going to give up the woman I love.”
I love Jack all the more for standing by me. Michael is nothing at all like him, and it’s sickening the way in which my parents raise him up like some paragon. “Michael cheated on me, Dad—all the time! You really want that kind of man to be my husband, to be the father of your grandchildren?”
The Light Before Us Page 27
