Somewhere Out There

by Amy Hatvany

  “Sure,” he said, jogging back into the kitchen. Natalie took a seat at the head of the table with her back facing a pair of French doors. As soon as Kyle returned with two cups filled with milk, he lowered himself into the chair next to his son, setting their drinks next to their plates. He quickly poured some wine into his own glass. “All right, then,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

  “I’d like to make a toast first,” Natalie said, looking at Brooke. “To the happy surprises in life. And to family.”

  Brooke raised her glass, but Kyle took an extra second or two to lift his. Does he not want me here? Brooke wondered.

  Henry held up a hard plastic Buzz Lightyear instead of his glass and pushed a red button on its chest. “To infinity . . . and beyond!” the toy said, and everybody laughed.

  “No Buzz at the table, kiddo,” Kyle said, gently removing the toy from his son’s grasp. Henry crossed his arms over his chest and pouted while Natalie picked up the serving tongs from the platter filled with perfectly cooked, fanned-out slices of roast and handed them to Brooke.

  “So, Brooke,” Kyle said, after she’d filled her plate and passed the platter over to Natalie. “Tell us a little about yourself.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” she replied as lightly as she could. “I grew up here in Seattle and I’m a waitress at a bar in Pioneer Square. That’s about it. Nothing very exciting.”

  “Are you married?” Kyle asked.

  “No,” Brooke said. Didn’t Natalie tell him any of what she and Brooke had already talked about?

  “No children?” he said.

  “No,” Brooke said again, feeling a twist of queasiness in her gut. Oh, lord. Don’t let me get sick now.

  “Kyle,” Natalie said. Her voice was full of warning. She gave Brooke an apologetic smile. “Sometimes he forgets he’s not in court.” She looked back at her husband. “Right, honey?”

  Kyle hesitated only a moment before launching a relaxed smile. “Guilty as charged,” he said. “I apologize. I’m happy you could join us tonight.”

  “I’m happy, too,” Natalie said quietly, and Brooke nodded, despite harboring the distinct feeling that she wasn’t quite ready to say the same thing.

  Natalie

  “Would anyone like coffee to go with dessert?” Natalie asked after they had all finished their dinner and moved into the living room. Brooke sat in the large recliner, while Kyle and the kids settled on the couch. Natalie stood in the archway that linked the kitchen to the front of the house, trying to figure out how the evening was going. On the one hand, Kyle had walked in almost two hours late—after promising to be there to help manage the kids and help her get dinner ready—and then practically interrogated her sister. On the other hand, after Natalie gently scolded Kyle for overwhelming Brooke with too many questions he already knew the answers to, he managed to keep the rest of the conversation polite and neutral, inquiring about the other places she’d worked and where she lived in the city, questions to which Brooke supplied very general answers.

  “None for me, thanks,” Brooke said, glancing at the clock on the mantel, which read eight fifteen. “In fact, I should probably get going.”

  “Oh no,” Natalie said. “You can’t miss dessert! It’s my thing.” Her eyes pleaded with Brooke. “Stay a bit longer?”

  Hailey bounced on the couch and then climbed into Kyle’s lap. “Yeah! Mommy made a really yummy cake. It’s lemon. With guess what? Raspberry filling! And I helped!”

  “Me, too!” Henry said, holding on to one of his father’s arms.

  “Well,” Brooke said. “In that case, I’d better stay.” She crossed her legs and set her forearms over her abdomen. Natalie rushed into the kitchen and returned as quickly as she could with a tray covered in small dessert plates, which she set down on the coffee table. She’d found the table at an antiques store in the Junction, and while it was older and needed refinishing, Natalie loved its oval shape and elegant, curved legs. Once she got it home, she’d painted the table white, then used a wire brush to give its edges a slightly distressed, aged look. It was her favorite piece in the house.

  “Here you go,” Natalie said, handing Brooke a dessert plate.

  “Thank you,” Brooke said, stifling a yawn. “Sorry. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

  “A side effect of your job, I’d imagine,” Kyle said. “You must work late.”

  “I do,” Brooke said, carefully. She held on to her fork and the edge of her plate tightly.

  “Have you ever worked outside the restaurant industry?” Kyle asked Brooke.

  “No, actually,” Brooke said, with a sharp edge. “I like what I do.” As Natalie gave a plate to each of her children and then kept the last for herself, she was afraid her husband was pushing her older sister too far. Everything that came out of his mouth sounded like an accusation.

  “That’s great,” Kyle said, overly enthusiastic.

  Brooke took a small bite of her dessert, chewed it, and then set her plate on the small end table next to her chair.

  “Is Mommy’s birth mom your mom, too?” Hailey asked, breaking the bit of silence in the room.

  Oh, god, Natalie thought, watching as Brooke folded her hands together in her lap. “Sweetie,” Natalie said to her daughter. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

  “Why not?” Hailey asked, running a finger over her plate to swipe up a streak of raspberry filling.

  “It’s okay,” Brooke said, and then looked at Hailey. “Your mom’s birth mother is mine, too, but I didn’t grow up with her. I lived in a state home.”

  “What’s that?” Henry asked. His mouth was full of cake, and Kyle attempted to keep him from accidentally spitting it onto the couch by cupping his palm under Henry’s chin.

  “It’s a place where children who don’t have a family to take care of them can live,” Brooke said.

  “Ohh,” Hailey said, looking back and forth between her mother and aunt, and Natalie gave Brooke the same apologetic look as she had earlier.

  Brooke stood up. “The cake was so good,” she said to Hailey and Henry, even though she’d only taken one bite. “You and your mom did a great job.” Then she looked at Natalie and Kyle. “Thank you so much for having me, but I really am exhausted. I should head home.”

  Natalie set down her untouched dessert. This was not how she’d hoped the evening would end. “Are you sure?” Brooke gave a tight-lipped nod. “Okay,” Natalie said. “Let me walk you out.”

  “Time for bed, you two,” Kyle said. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

  “Noooo,” Hailey said, giving her legs a little kick, and Henry shook his head against his father’s bicep, smearing it with raspberry sauce.

  “Come on, kiddos,” Kyle said, standing up and lifting a reluctant Henry from the couch. He looked over at Brooke and smiled. “I’m sure we’ll get a chance to see each other again, soon.”

  Brooke nodded again, and Natalie accompanied her to the front door. She grabbed her older sister’s coat and then her own, insisting on walking with her to her car.

  “I’m sorry if Kyle said anything to upset you,” Natalie said as they walked together in the cool evening air. They stood next to the driver’s side door, lit only by the warm glow of the porch light and the streetlamp on the corner. “He’s a little protective, and it just came out wrong.”

  “It’s okay,” Brooke said, but her voice broke on the words and she looked away, down the dark street.

  Natalie reached out a hesitant hand and placed it on Brooke’s forearm. “Oh, no. I’m going to kill him for making you feel like this.”

  Brooke sniffed and shook her head. “It’s not him, really,” she said, looking at Natalie with tears glossing her violet eyes. “It’s me. I just . . . it’s just . . . I’m not sure I fit in here.”

  “Of course you do,” Natalie said. “This is new to all of us. It’s going to take some time to adjust, but I promise, I want you to be here. I want to get to know you better.” She swallowed
hard, fighting back her own tears. “I always wanted a sister. And now I have one.”

  Brooke’s shoulders shook, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ve never had a family,” she said after she’d dropped her arm back to her side. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know how I’m going to do anything.”

  Natalie tilted her head and stitched together her brows. There was a distinct, desperate edge to her sister’s words. “How you’re going to do what?” she asked. “Be my sister? We just . . . spend time together. We just get to know each other.”

  “No,” Brooke said. “You don’t understand. Seeing you tonight . . . seeing Hailey and Henry and Kyle, just reminded me how little I know . . . how I’m not . . . I can’t . . .” She closed her eyes and began to sob quietly, and Natalie couldn’t help herself, she pulled Brooke into her arms. She rubbed a circle on her sister’s back, the same way she did for her children when they were upset.

  “Hey,” Natalie murmured, unsure exactly what it was about the night that had taken Brooke to this fragile point. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “No,” Brooke said again, breathing into Natalie’s shoulder. “It’s not. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I might have made the worst decision of my life.”

  Natalie pulled back but kept her hands on Brooke’s arms. “What decision? Coming here? Seeing me? Or is it something else?” She saw the fear in her sister’s eyes, the tight muscles along her jaw. Whatever her sister was dealing with, it was big, and she was terrified. “It’s okay,” Natalie said. “You can tell me. I promise, I won’t judge. I just want to help. Please. Let me help.”

  She watched Brooke glance off to the side and then down to the ground, as though she were uncertain what to do next. She seemed so small, so exposed, with her guard let down. She reminded Natalie of Hailey when her daughter’s feelings were hurt, needing comfort. Needing reassurance. Needing to know she wasn’t alone.

  “I’m pregnant,” Brooke finally whispered. “Ryan . . . my ex . . . is getting a divorce, but he’s still married. He wants me to get rid of it and I basically told him to screw off.”

  Natalie was quiet a moment, letting this news sink in, Brooke’s fatigue, refusal of wine, and her likely hormone-spurred tears suddenly making perfect sense. When Natalie was pregnant, she could cry over a burnt piece of toast. “What do you want?” she asked Brooke, who looked at her with wide, glassy eyes.

  “I want to keep it,” Brooke said after a moment. “I want to try and be the kind of mother I never had.”

  Natalie smiled, sensing this wasn’t a decision her sister had come to lightly. “I’m so happy for you,” she said. “Please, will you come back inside? We can talk. Just you and me.”

  When Brooke finally nodded, Natalie hugged her again. And this time, she wasn’t so quick to let her go.

  • • •

  Brooke waited on the front porch while Natalie went back inside to talk with Kyle, who had already put the kids to bed. “She’s still here,” Natalie told him. “Can you give us some privacy? She needs to talk.”

  “What about?”

  “She’s pregnant,” Natalie said, keeping her voice low. “She literally just told me. She’s out there crying and scared and feeling like she doesn’t fit in with us. Something you didn’t help by treating her like she was in a deposition.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Well, you did. And being late was great. Thanks for that.” Natalie knew she was being harsh, but she didn’t care. “Can we talk about this later, please? She’s standing on the porch.”

  “Fine,” Kyle said. And he turned and left the room.

  Natalie rushed back to the front door and opened it. “Come in,” she said, motioning for Brooke to reenter the house. Her sister’s face was splotchy and red, streaked with mascara. She kept one hand placed over her stomach, as though protecting her baby; Natalie recognized the gesture from when she had been pregnant with her kids. Natalie hung up Brooke’s coat again, and they returned to the living room, but this time, the two sat on the couch facing each other, just a few feet apart.

  Brooke glanced around. “We’re alone?”

  “Yep. Kyle put the kids to bed, and he’s gone upstairs, too.”

  “You sure he doesn’t mind?”

  “Of course not,” Natalie said, hating that her husband had made Brooke feel that he might not be okay with her back in the house. Natalie shifted her position on the cushions until she was comfortable. “Okay. So, start from the beginning. Tell me everything.”

  She gave Brooke an encouraging nod, and then listened as her sister, in slow, halting sentences at first, described meeting Ryan and the months they’d spent together with Brooke staying in the shadows because of his impending divorce, and how that was fine with her because she never let the men in her life get too close to her anyway. As she became more comfortable telling the story, her voice relaxed, and she told Natalie how she’d discovered she was pregnant, her at-home tests and subsequent trip to the clinic, how she’d felt when she heard the baby’s heartbeat. Finally, she detailed Ryan’s reaction when she told him she planned to keep the baby.

  “I just don’t know what I should do,” Brooke said. “If I can be a good mother.”

  “I think a lot of women feel like that with their first pregnancy,” Natalie said. “I know I was terrified I’d screw Hailey up. Or at the very least, drop her on her head.”

  “Really?” Brooke asked as she sniffled and wiped her cheeks with a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

  “Absolutely. It’s totally normal to be afraid. I think it just shows how much you already care. When Henry came along I was much more at ease, because I knew what to expect. It’s the unknown that’s scary.”

  “But I don’t have a clue about any of it. Being pregnant, childbirth, breast-feeding or bottles, or what kind of diapers I should use. Not to mention where I’m going to live. I can’t keep a baby in my shitty little apartment.”

  “I highly doubt your place is shitty. I also don’t think you have to decide all of that right now. Certainly not tonight.” Natalie gave Brooke what she hoped was a comforting look. “How far along are you?”

  “Almost fifteen weeks.”

  “Okay,” Natalie said. “So, first thing, we need to find you a doctor. And get you on prenatal vitamins.”

  “I have a doctor. She scheduled an amniocentesis for me next week, since I’m over thirty-five.”

  “All right, good. I can go with you, if you want.”

  Brooke lifted her eyes back to Natalie’s face, her chin trembling. “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “You don’t even know me. Why do you want to help?”

  “Because you’re part of my family.” Natalie felt her own jaw tremble then, and she had to struggle to keep back her tears. “That’s what sisters do.”

  Brooke stared at her for a moment, unblinking. “You want to find her, don’t you.” It was more a statement than a question, spoken in a dull voice.

  Natalie cocked her head to one side. “Find who?”

  “Our mother. That’s the whole reason you found out about me. You were looking for her.”

  “Well, yes. Sort of. I wanted to know more about her, but once I knew you existed, I started to look for you, too.”

  “And now that you’ve found me?”

  Natalie searched Brooke’s face, wondering just how much either of them resembled the woman they were discussing. Other than their petite builds, she and Brooke didn’t look much like they were related. Now that she knew they’d had different fathers, Natalie had come to terms with the fact that she’d likely never meet hers. But her birth mother was different. It was she whom Natalie felt compelled to find. The woman who held her, took care of her for six months, and then just walked away.

  “I do want to look for her,” she finally replied, and Brooke closed her eyes. “I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I want to understand why sh
e did what she did. Especially now, knowing you were already four when she gave us up. I want to know how a mother could do something like that. Why she did something like that.”

  “Does it matter?” Brooke said, opening her eyes again. “She did it. She neglected us. She left us in her car alone all of the time. I don’t remember a lot, but I remember that. I remember going to find her because I was so scared and seeing her getting screwed over a desk in some strange man’s office.” She gripped her fingers together tightly in her lap. “That’s the kind of mother we had, Natalie. And I don’t want anything to do with her.”

  Natalie was quiet then, absorbing everything Brooke had just said. Did she really need to find this woman Brooke described? Maybe having her sister in her life would be enough; they would have each other and why their mother gave them up wouldn’t matter. But then something dawned on Natalie. “Maybe it will help you,” she said. “Seeing her again. You could confront her, tell her how much she hurt you. Maybe it would be cathartic. Make you feel better about having this baby.”

  Brooke shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  It struck Natalie then that however empty she’d sometimes felt growing up as an adopted child—however many faces she’d compared her own to in a crowd, knowing she had a birth mother out there somewhere in the world—she’d never know the hollow existence Brooke must have had spending all those years fundamentally alone. Natalie’s parents, whatever their mistakes, at least always made sure she knew how deeply she was wanted and loved. She couldn’t imagine the rejection Brooke had faced as one foster home after another sent her back to the state. She couldn’t fathom the kind of damage that had done to a little girl’s heart. No wonder her sister was guarded; she was always poised for disaster, waiting for that next destructive wave to crash over her and pull her out to an uncertain sea.

  “I understand,” Natalie said, in a quiet voice. “And of course, I would never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “But you’re going to look for her.”

  “I think so. Yes.”