One Perfect Summer

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One Perfect Summer Page 4

by Brenda Novak


  But she didn’t feel she could consult them—not until she had a clearer understanding of what might have happened. She was afraid it might split them up or send one of her siblings into an emotional free fall. And yet, turning a blind eye to what she’d discovered wasn’t an option. Ignoring what she’d learned wasn’t sustainable, not for someone like her who had to face the truth head-on. She made a living uncovering dark secrets.

  So, for better or for worse, she, Lorelei and Reagan were going to get to know each other and try to figure out how they were related. Maybe once they started to delve into the past they’d find a string they could tug on that would unravel the whole story.

  Before she could reach the main entrance downstairs, she heard the distressed voice of someone trying to console a crying child.

  The child had to be Lucy.

  Bracing herself—as much to meet her new family members as against the cold—Serenity opened the door just as Lorelei and her daughter came hurrying up the steps, gripping the railing tightly so they wouldn’t fall while sheltering their faces from the wind and snow.

  “Lucy has to go to the bathroom,” Lorelei announced without preamble.

  Serenity drew a steadying breath. Based on the photographs she’d seen, she wasn’t surprised but Lorelei looked just like her. It was uncanny, unsettling. “Down the hall, on the right,” she said, quickly stepping to the side.

  Reagan took longer to reach the porch because she’d grabbed some of the luggage, which was smart. It would only be harder to go out later, when it was colder and darker and the vehicle could be buried in snow.

  “I’m glad you made it safely.” Feeling awkward at finally facing someone who was closely related to her—and yet a complete stranger—Serenity reached out to take one of the suitcases Reagan carried.

  “That one’s Lucy’s,” Reagan told her. “Lorelei will have to go out and get her own. This was all I could carry.”

  “No problem.” Serenity had known that coming face-to-face with these two people might be difficult, but she hadn’t anticipated that this moment would feel quite so surreal. Although she didn’t want to be obvious, she let her gaze sweep over Reagan several times. The visual proof made everything in the DNA report undeniable. “How was your flight?”

  Reagan seemed reticent. Was she feeling the same emotions? The shock and betrayal, as well as the excitement engendered by such a strange situation? Serenity couldn’t have felt more odd if she’d come face to face with an alien from outer space.

  “Better than the drive here,” she replied.

  Serenity got the impression Lucy had significantly contributed to the difficulty, so she didn’t press any further. “Well, fortunately, that’s behind you, and I’ve got a fire going in the living room upstairs.” Hoping to cover nervousness with politeness, she waved Reagan in ahead of her and managed to wrestle the door shut despite the howling wind. “Whew! I can’t believe it’s storming like this in May.”

  Small talk. When there’s so much more to say...

  “Just my luck.” Reagan dropped her own luggage, which looked far more expensive than what Serenity had seen of Lorelei’s so far. “Wouldn’t you know it, the weather in New York was nearly eighty degrees when I took off from La Guardia.”

  “Hopefully this will blow through. The weather this time of year is normally beautiful.” Serenity couldn’t stop watching her and noticed that Reagan couldn’t quit staring, either. “Are you hungry? Did you have a chance to eat after you landed?”

  It took Reagan a moment to respond. They were both transfixed. “Yeah, um, sorry. It’s just...well, you know. You look so much like me. So does Lorelei.”

  “The situation is definitely...unique.”

  “Right. We knew that coming into it. But you asked if we’ve eaten. Lorelei had a meal packed for Lucy, and she and I just grabbed something out of a vending machine.”

  “Then you must be ready for something more. I brought groceries. I thought I’d make broccoli cheddar soup for dinner.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  The conversation once again fell by the wayside as they stood and gaped at each other.

  “I can’t believe I’m related to you,” Reagan said, her voice barely a whisper. “But I have to admit—it’s like looking in a mirror.”

  Serenity didn’t know whether to hug her or not. It hadn’t been a possibility when she’d walked through the door carrying so much luggage, but now they were both empty-handed. “Except that my hair’s a lot longer than yours.”

  Another meaningless statement made because of nerves and self-consciousness...

  “Are we doing the right thing?” Reagan asked with a degree of trepidation. “I mean...this is kind of a risk, isn’t it?”

  That answered the hugging question. They were going to be open and honest with each other, not pretend to feel emotions they didn’t yet feel. “I have no idea,” Serenity replied. “But even if we aren’t, I have to know how this happened. Why it happened. And why no one ever told me. Don’t you?”

  Reagan continued to study her closely—and ultimately nodded.

  “I’m glad you came,” Serenity said. “That we’ll...that we’ll have a chance to get to know each other.”

  “I should warn you that Lorelei and I haven’t started off on the best foot,” she said, but then the door to the bathroom opened.

  As Lorelei led Lucy out, Reagan added a softly spoken, “Never mind.”

  Serenity wasn’t sure what that meant. She hoped it was just the result of jangled nerves from having a four-year-old who was tired of being restrained in the car. “Lorelei,” she said, turning to greet her other half sister. “Thanks for coming.”

  Lorelei didn’t seem happy, either. She certainly didn’t step up for an embrace. She seemed gun-shy, like an animal who stands back and watches warily, making sure it’s safe before venturing closer.

  Considering what Serenity knew about her background, that made sense. She probably wasn’t someone who could trust easily.

  “Thank you,” she said. “This is...this is really a nice place.”

  Serenity quickly sized up both sisters, now that they were all standing close. They were both pretty. Lorelei had a softer, more full-figured look. Well-dressed Reagan seemed to be on the cutting edge of fashion, which made sense, since her mother was a designer. Her features were a bit more angular and she came off as decisive and in charge.

  “It is. But you should see the other ‘cabins’ they have up here. Some are even called chalets,” she said with a laugh that she hoped would at least partially conceal her discomfort. “They’re owned by very wealthy people and go for millions of dollars.”

  Lorelei’s eyes were wide as she looked around. “This one can’t be cheap.”

  The comment reminded Serenity that they all came from such different backgrounds, and Lorelei had very little in the way of creature comforts growing up. “It didn’t cost a whole lot when my parents bought it, but that was thirty years ago. They’ve added on and improved it quite a bit since. And real estate values have gone up.”

  Serenity gestured at the suitcase she’d taken from Reagan and left inside the doorway. “Reagan was nice enough to bring in Lucy’s bag, but that was all she could carry along with her own. Do you want to grab your luggage while I show Reagan to her room?”

  “Sure.” She looked from Serenity to Reagan and back again, as though she, too, thought they might’ve fallen into an alternate universe. Obviously, Serenity wasn’t the only one struggling with this moment.

  “I left it unlocked,” Reagan volunteered.

  Finally, Lorelei turned to her daughter. “Sit right here, where it’s warm,” she told Lucy, gesturing to the soft leather couch. “Mommy will be right back.”

  After Lorelei had buttoned her coat and headed back into the storm, Reagan lowered her voice. “This might be hard
er than we initially imagined,” she confided.

  “Because of...” Serenity didn’t say Lucy’s name, but jerked her head in the child’s direction.

  “No, that wouldn’t be a problem by itself. I’m referring to the fact that we were all raised by different families, have different backgrounds and experiences, and come with a different emotional makeup—maybe even a few scars. Will we be able to get along for an entire week?”

  “Of course. All we have to do is remain open-minded and understanding.”

  “A very California thing to say.”

  “That isn’t how a New Yorker would handle it?”

  “A New Yorker would be less euphemistic about the whole situation.”

  Serenity glanced at Lucy, who was sitting dutifully in the small family room that formed the hub of the lowest level of the cabin, watching them with red, swollen eyes. This little person was her niece. Her first niece, since none of her siblings had any children, which only made the whole thing more bizarre. “What about a Floridian?” she asked.

  Reagan shrugged as if to indicate it was anyone’s guess. “As I said—three different perspectives.”

  Serenity went over to say hello to Lucy and introduce herself. She couldn’t get the little girl to respond—Lucy just kept ducking her head shyly—but Serenity couldn’t blame her. This was an unusual experience for her, too.

  Straightening, she drew on the familiarity they’d gained interacting online to try and establish some normalcy. They’d all been rather guarded so far, but they did have some frame of reference. “It’s only a week, Reagan.”

  Reagan didn’t seem convinced. “A week can feel like an eternity.”

  “It should be enough to tell us if we ever want to do this again.” Serenity laughed, this time in an attempt to encourage Reagan to relax. She understood having second thoughts; she’d had a few of her own.

  “If you say so.” Reagan stood back and gazed up the stairs. “How many bedrooms does this place have?”

  Grateful that she’d no longer be standing there, feeling out of place despite the fact that this was her cabin, Serenity grabbed Reagan’s suitcase. “Five. Plus a library in the loft.” She didn’t bother to add that the fifth bedroom was off the loft, and that it was stuffed with boxes her parents hadn’t bothered to haul down to San Diego with them. It didn’t matter; they weren’t going to need that room, anyway.

  “Wow. Five bedrooms and a library? You could have an army of siblings come stay with you—all at once.”

  “Don’t say that,” she muttered ruefully.

  “After what’s happened with us, you never know.”

  “Exactly.”

  This time they both laughed, and Serenity felt a wave of relief. Maybe a shared joke wasn’t a huge connection, but it was a start.

  5

  reagan

  REAGAN’S BEDROOM WAS spacious by New York standards, where hotel rooms were often the size of broom closets. Planning to take her time to unpack and settle in, she wandered over to the window.

  Due to low visibility, all she could see were pine trees dusted with snow and more of the white stuff swirling through the air, buffeted by strong winds. But even if it hadn’t been storming, she doubted she’d see much more. Perhaps some granite outcroppings, bear or raccoon tracks or a small woodshed. Her window faced the forest, not the lake.

  Still, the room was nice—not lavish but tasteful. Whoever had decorated the cabin seemed interested in making it comfortable above all else. With its overstuffed furniture, thick rugs covering hardwood floors, yellow, white and blue–colored linens and draperies—even a worn leather chair in the corner, situated next to a small bookcase—this place was obviously intended to be a retreat from the world, a safe haven from which to enjoy nature, rest, read and recuperate.

  She wasn’t sure she’d find her visit too relaxing, however. Afraid that coming to Tahoe would only further complicate her situation, she hadn’t been keen on opening her life to two sisters. She grew up the only child of a workaholic mother; she was so used to being on her own she didn’t know how to interact with them. And she certainly didn’t need someone else to disapprove of what she’d done, someone who would never understand how she could make the mistake she had. She was hard enough on herself.

  She dragged her fingers along the heavy log walls, which were slick with varnish, before rolling her shoulders and stretching her neck in an attempt to ward off the headache that was starting behind her eyes. She would’ve gone down to the kitchen to help Serenity cook, even though she never cooked, never had time to bother and wasn’t very good at it.

  But she could hear Lorelei and Lucy talking to Serenity and decided it was more important to take a break from them both. She doubted Lucy would allow herself to be confined, so once Serenity finished showing them to their rooms, they’d likely venture right back out. What else was there for a four-year-old to do except explore the cabin? Lucy couldn’t go outside, not in this weather, although the big deck on the middle story overlooking the lake would be a temptation.

  Grabbing her phone from her purse, Reagan dropped onto the thick feather comforter that covered the bed and shoved a couple of pillows behind her back as she pulled up her recent calls. So many people had tried to reach her. Drew, of course. He’d been calling and texting for days. She’d expected to see his name. There were several others from Edison & Curry, too. Everyone at work was freaking out, wondering why she wasn’t checking in or responding to her email.

  She needed to get back to them. This was unlike her. She was usually on top of everything. But it was almost as if the life she’d known had simply...imploded. She’d screwed up so badly that she couldn’t find a way to fix it, and she couldn’t deal with failure.

  At the back of her mind she saw her mother, frowning in disgust and disappointment, and the pain in her head increased. If she didn’t quit thinking of how Rosalind would react if she found out about Drew—how she reacted whenever she was disappointed in Reagan—she was going to have a full-blown panic attack. How many times had her therapist told her not to measure herself through her mother’s eyes?

  Speak of the devil, she thought when she saw that her mother had tried to call.

  Unable to face speaking to Rosalind right now, she kept scrolling until she spotted a name that stood out from the rest. Rally McKnight, an architect she’d met at an AIDS fund-raiser a month ago, had tried to reach her while she was on the plane. He seemed a little old for her, but he wasn’t unhandsome. And he had a solid career—a sign that he was functional. So many of the men she’d met on various dating sites had more excuses than they did accomplishments. One guy she’d agreed to have dinner with had three different baby mamas, none of whom he’d ever married.

  Rally stood out among that whole group. She’d been attracted to him from the beginning, which was why she’d given him her number, but he seemed too good to be true and that scared her. She’d been single long enough that she could spot a man’s flaws from the get-go—and yet she couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him.

  That made her so uneasy she hadn’t agreed to go out with him even though he’d called her several times since to ask.

  Pressing the button that would play his message, she put the phone to her ear. “Reagan, this is Rally McKnight. Sorry to bother you again. I told you last time that if you’d rather not hear from me to send me a text, but I haven’t received anything, so...I was hoping no news is good news. I’m also hoping you might be willing to have dinner with me this weekend. I know of a great place in SoHo, and I thought we could visit a speakeasy afterward. There’s one called The Last Word I bet you’d enjoy. Or Fig 19 has some great art. Give me a call if you’re interested.”

  He ended with his number even though she didn’t need it. It was the same number he’d called her from, which was stored in her phone.

  Feeling particularly angry with her
self—that she hadn’t been more receptive to this man, who seemed decent, instead of sabotaging her life and her career by getting involved with her married boss—she almost erased the message. She didn’t deserve someone like Rally. She had no business dating anyone right now, when her life was such a mess.

  But something about the fact that he’d been so patient made her text him.

  Thanks for the invitation, Rally, but I’m out of town. Will reach out when I get back.

  She planned to leave it at that, but then she saw the three dots that indicated he was replying to her message.

  Hey, I’m moving up in the world, he wrote back.

  She had no idea what that meant, which prompted a further comment. Moving up?

  This is the first time you’ve acknowledged me. I must be a glutton for punishment to keep trying.

  She couldn’t help smiling at his message. Or too confident to assume a lack of response means no.

  So you’re a spin-doctor as well as an account manager?

  “I’m a fool,” she wanted to write. Instead she kept it light. I thought they were one and the same.

  That worries me a little.

  I’m joking.

  Good. When will you be back?

  In a week.

  Vacay?

  Meeting two half sisters I never knew existed.

  She wasn’t sure why she’d volunteered that information. She hadn’t told anyone else.

  Interesting. How’d you find out about them?

  DNA testing. One of those ancestry sites.

  What made you get your DNA tested?

  My mother was having heart trouble, and several of my coworkers were doing it. They suggested I do it with them so I could learn more about my genetic endowment—what health risks I might face, etc.

 

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