My dad - for lack of a better name - looked lost, but the woman put a hand on my shoulder.
“Let the child speak,” she said, a gleam in her eye. “You were about to tell us that you're my granddaughter, I believe.”
She took my arm, leading me into the house with the two men following. Explanation escaped me.
“How?” I asked.
“I knew your mother was pregnant when she left.”
That confession finally got my father's attention. He turned hard eyes on his mother who held up her hands in surrender.
“I couldn't have your father finding out,” she explained. “It was better for the child this way and for that sweet sweet Emma.”
At her name, my father sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands. I watched the man who'd fathered me. His mouth opened and then shut again.
The house seemed even bigger on the inside. High ceilings enlarged the rooms. A glass staircase stood on the other end near a fireplace covered in marble.
I turned when I realized the woman was speaking. “I'm your grandmother Laura,” she said. “My son seems to have forgotten how to use the English language, but finding out about a daughter will do that to you.”
“And a son,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “I have a twin brother.”
She smiled. “I have wanted grandchildren for a very long time. You know, I used to imagine meeting you. I was very fond of your mother.”
“Your mother.” My father finally looked up, his eyes red. “Did she send you?”
Tears came to my eyes, unwelcome, and I shook my head. “Mom died six years ago. Our Aunt Kat has been taking care of us.”
His shoulders dropped, and the look that crossed his face nearly broke me in two. I couldn't take it any longer. The breath wheezed from my lungs as the tension squeezed all life from the room.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered. “This was a mistake.”
Tears streamed down my face as I bolted toward the door. I didn't know what I'd been searching for, but it wasn't this. I didn't want to bring the anguish of my mother's death onto anyone else. That was my burden. It belonged to me and my brother, not this man I didn't know.
I was out the door before Dylan caught up with me. “You can't just go.”
I wiped an arm across my face. “What do you want from me?”
“You obviously came here for a reason.” He grasped my arm, refusing to let me go. “Your… dad,” he paused, “is a good man. He's in shock right now. You have to cut him some slack.”
“I know.” I hid my face in my hands. “I just…” A sob escaped me, and Dylan wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Come back inside.”
I had no more fight left in me as he led me back up the steps to where Laura was standing. She took me in her arms. “It's okay, sweetheart. You're with family. You can cry.”
The dam broke and everything I'd felt about my father over the years poured out in a torrent of tears. He hadn't abandoned us. He hadn't left Mom. Even now, I saw it in his tear-stained face—he'd loved her. He still did.
I fingered the locket resting against my chest; the one Kat gave me for my birthday. Before I left, Kat told me that mom always planned on me finding out the truth when I was old enough. She knew I'd come. She wanted me to.
I turned toward the living room once again where my father now stood, his glistening cheeks matching mine. In this, we were together.
“California,” he said, his hands gripping each other in front of him. “You look just like her.”
I smiled at the best compliment he could have given me even as my eyes welled up again.
He looked to his mother helplessly. “Please don't cry again.”
“I don't know what I'm supposed to say,” I admitted. “I only planned the 'I'm your daughter part'.”
Dylan cleared his throat. “So, I take it we aren't surfing this afternoon?”
My father looked at him, then turned to me, a nervous twitch on his lips. “Do you surf?”
I grinned, wiping away the remaining tears. “Of course.” I met his eyes. “As you say, I am my mother's daughter.”
He laughed then, breaking all remaining tension and clapped his hands together, his face lit up with joy.
“To the beach?” Dylan asked.
“To the beach,” my dad responded, looking my way.
I nodded, knowing this was a language we both spoke. Surfing. It was a start. “Let's go.”
Epilogue
Jamie
10 years later
I never thought I'd be back in Gulf City. That first year gone, all I'd wanted was to come back and regain what I'd lost. My friends. My girl. Then I got used to being away. It became easier with each passing day until it lost its power over me.
I became a part of a new family. Had new friends. Even a new girl. My platoon. They were the ones I wanted to be with now, but they were back on base in Georgia, and I was here.
I didn't want to be here, but I had no choice. There was a funeral and no matter how I felt about it, this was where I was supposed to be.
Mourners packed the church, but I paid little attention to any of them. They didn't recognize me. They wouldn't. My once scraggly blond hair was buzzed short. My lean frame had bulked up considerably. I wasn't the Jamie Daniels they knew. This new Jamie had seen things, done things, that changed a person.
I kept my head up, catching the attention of quite a few people with my dress uniform, but managing not to be pulled to the front.
I watched as my brother, looking just as he always had, sat in the front pew. His mother, having had a service in Washington D.C. wasn't there. Two people joined Jay, and I recognized them at once. Colby, dressed in a stylish suit, was greeted by each person he saw. His face had grown leaner, losing the softness of youth. Callie stood beside him, standing tall in her elegant black dress. Her hair was different - dyed dark chocolate and sitting just above her shoulders in soft layers. Gone was the simple long braid. This version of Callie was older, more mature; mesmerizing.
For the first time in ten years, the confidence I'd cultivated slipped.
She put her arm around my brother, and I wanted nothing more than to feel her touch, see her smile.
I slid out the back after the funeral, needing to drive around for a little while to regain control before I saw all of them.
Control. It got me through my missions. I became a ranger because I wanted to do something big with my life. I was damn good at it. We ran into the situations everyone else ran from.
How did Florida feel more like a minefield than that?
He's dead, I told myself. My dad was gone. So why did the thought of him still make me feel so inadequate?
I pulled to the side of the road in front of a house with too many memories and a street that overflowed with cars. The place looked the same as it always had. That porch was the first place I'd ever gotten my heartbroken. My face had been broken by my father's fist in that entryway. Hell, pretty much every room held a memory like that. His anger had seeped into the walls themselves.
I stood by the open door, watching the people who only knew the face my father put on, not the real man.
A young boy was sitting on the bench by the door and I stopped, not quite ready to go in.
“Hello,” I said, stalling the inevitable.
He looked at me with wide eyes. “Are you a soldier?”
I laughed, the sound seeming foreign in this place. “I am. What's your name?”
“Jackson.” He puffed out his chest. “You can call me Jacks. I'm nine.”
“Well, hello Jacks, I'm Jamie and nine is a very good age.”
“Jackson, your mother is looking for you” a familiar voice called, coming outside. Kat looked at me in astonishment. “Jamie Daniels.” A grin formed. “I didn't know you were coming.”
I stood, giving her a hug. “No one did.”
“Oh, this is going to be good. None of them have talked to you in ten years.
Boy, you have some explaining to do.” Her face softened. “It's so good to see you. I'll handle Jacks. You go on in.”
I breathed deeply, pulling open the door. The place was packed, but as I walked through, only one person caught my eye.
She was standing in the kitchen, putting out dishes of food with the help of a few other ladies from town. Grabbing a pot of coffee, she glanced up, letting out a yell as she dropped the pot to the floor.
I rushed forward, crushing her to me. In my dreams, I'd held her so many times over the last decade. But now, here, this was real and for the first time, I knew coming home was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
Callie sucked in a shaky breath, pulling away as she did. Before I knew what was happening, I was kissing her and her fist was connecting with my jaw. I fell back against the counter and saw Colby and Jay laughing nearby.
“We'd do the same if she hadn't beaten us to it,” Colby said. “Ten years, dude.”
Callie looked from her brother to Jay to me. She shoved me once more and stalked away.
“Mom.” Jacks trailed behind her. “Why are you beating up the soldier?”
<<<< The End >>>>
You made it to the end! I'm so glad and I hope you liked it. Don't hate me for the ending because there is another book. We Thought We Knew It All brings all of our favorite friends back together for some hard lessons on life, love, and moving on. Get it here.
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About Michelle
Michelle MacQueen is a USA Today bestselling author of love. Yes, love. Whether it be YA romance, NA romance, or fantasy romance (Under M. Lynn), she loves to make readers swoon.
The great loves of her life to this point are two tiny blond creatures who call her “aunt” and proclaim her books to be “boring books” for their lack of pictures. Yet, somehow, she still manages to love them more than chocolate.
When she’s not sharing her inexhaustible wisdom with her niece and nephew, Michelle is usually lounging in her ridiculously large bean bag chair creating worlds and characters that remind her to smile every day - even when a feisty five-year-old is telling her just how much she doesn’t know.
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www.michellelynnauthor.com
Also by Michelle
The Invincible Series:
We Thought We Were Invincible
We Thought We Knew it All
Redefining Me:
The F Word
The N Word
The C Word
The New Beginnings series
Choices
Promises
Dreams
Confessions
Fantasy and Fairytales (Written as M. Lynn)
Golden Curse
Golden Chains
Golden Crown
Glass Kingdom
Glass Princess
Noble Thief
Cursed Beauty
Legends of the Tri-Gard (Written as M. Lynn)
Prophecy of Darkness
Legacy of Light
Mastery of Earth
Acknowledgments
Helen Keller once said, “Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.” This quote especially rings true in my life, but I think she could have added a bit more to it. “Nothing can be done without hope and confidence and family and friends and lots of love from both.”
That love is imperative. It's the love that allows for the patience when dealing with distracted authors. It's the love that forgives the anti-social behaviors and misplaced frustration when a book isn't coming together quite right. It's the love that tells us we are doing something worthwhile.
I have a lot of love in my life. This comes in many forms. From my parents who have always supported me.
From my sisters and brother in-laws, Robin, Doug, Mackenzie, and Colby, who support me and give me plenty to write about. My little sister even spent time being my resident skydiving expert for this story.
From my niece and nephew who can melt my heart with a single smile.
Love comes from my editors and beta readers and my wonderful cover designer from Covers by Combs.
And of course, everyone who picks up this story. Your love is powerful. It gives me the hope and the confidence to keep going.
We Thought We Were Invincible Page 21
