by Stacy Monson
Pushing away from the desk, she stood and stretched. Her heart-with-a-hole fluttered, making her pause. How often had it done that over the years and she’d simply ignored it? Or when it raced longer than seemed necessary after a strenuous hike? She’d always pushed through pain, discomfort, even fear to finish what she started. She could certainly do that now.
The ring of her desk phone made her jump. She answered with a chipper, “Yes, boss?”
“Hope you don’t have lunch plans because I ordered in for the two of us.”
“Ted, I’m perfectly fine,” she said, holding back a sigh. Now even her boss saw her differently. She sank back into her chair. “You don’t have to treat me like china.”
He chuckled. “I’ve never used Mikayla Gordon and fine china in the same sentence. I ordered in so we could work through lunch going over the proposal.”
“Oh.” Over-react much? “Well, that sounds great. What time?”
“Twelve-thirty, if that works for you.”
“I’ll join you then. Thanks, Ted.” Dropping her head back, she stared up at the ceiling tiles. Get a grip, Gordon, or you’ll become the hysterical female you don’t want to be.
She glanced at the clock again—forty-five minutes to at least outline the columns she planned to write. Words might not be flowing in coherent order, but she could think in bullet points.
“Tell me about your parents and grandparents,” Mikayla prodded from where she sat at the kitchen island after work.
Her mother finished peeling an apple. “Not much to tell, as you know. My parents are both alive, living their very privileged life in Michigan without a single health complaint.”
Mikayla stole a slice of apple and popped it in her mouth. “I still don’t get why they don’t care if they see us. I know you’ve said how busy they are, and how snooty, but still… They have three granddaughters they barely know.”
“Welcome to my childhood.” A deep sigh as sad eyes lifted to Mikayla. “I finally had to accept that I didn’t measure up when I chose not to live the high-society life. It was a major disappointment for them when I married your father.”
“What? But he’s amazing!”
A warm smile bloomed as she started peeling another apple. “Yes, he is. But he didn’t come from money. He and I only cared about having enough to provide a good life for our family. That was an embarrassment to them. They wanted to boast about us to their friends. Instead, they’ve pretended we’re distant relatives.”
Mikayla could count the number of times she’d seen her grandparents. Only twice at their palatial home in Michigan. The rest of the time they’d made the trip to Minnesota with a boatload of gifts, stayed at an expensive hotel, then scurried out of town.
“You’re so different from them,” she mused.
“Thank you.”
Mikayla directed the conversation back to her quest. “So Aunt Beth never had any health issues?” They’d seen her mother’s sister even less, since she lived somewhere in Canada.
“None that I ever knew of.”
“How about your grandparents? And their siblings?”
Mom added the apple slices to the growing pile in the bowl, then wiped her hands and leaned against the counter. “Honey, I don’t know everyone’s complete history, but I can tell you there’s longevity on both sides of the family, mine and your father’s. Your issue is simply a fluke, and we should be grateful it can be repaired so easily.”
“That doesn’t cut it, Mom. Something doesn’t add up. I’m glad it can be repaired without surgery, but I’m thinking about my children.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“What? No!” Mikayla rolled her eyes. “Hardly. But I’m assuming there’ll be kids in my future someday, and I’d like to know if there are issues to be aware of.”
“Are you finally dating someone? Is that what’s behind all the questions?”
Finally? “I’m pretty focused on my career right now. There’s no time for dating.”
“You have to make the time, honey.” She mixed the apples and spices. “I can’t believe there aren’t any nice guys at the magazine.”
And here we go. Her mother wouldn’t be happy until Mikayla was married off to a successful businessman like Lindy’s fiancé Beau and had given up her outdoor “hobbies.” Never mind that nobody gave Maggie grief about not dating.
She stuck another apple slice in her mouth to slow the defensive retort that always shot to the surface.
“I should have let you make these pies,” her mother mused. She rolled out a lump of pastry dough. “You need to know how to cook and bake in a kitchen, not just cook burgers at a campsite.”
What was so wrong with burgers at a campsite? “So I can have a fulfilling life as a housewife?”
“I can’t imagine you being a housewife.” She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand as if it were too outrageous to consider, then placed the perfect pastry in the pie plate.
Ouch. Not that she could see herself contentedly keeping house, but she still longed for someone to share life with. “Then what do you envision for my life? You hate that I like being outdoors, but you can’t see me as a wife and mother either. Maybe a spinster living alone in the woods who should know how to cook for herself because no one else will?”
Her mother glanced at her before filling the pie plate with apples. The kitchen warmed with sweetness and cinnamon. “Mikayla, I’m sure your life will turn out exactly the way you’ve planned, which is good. But I’d like you to at least have the basic skills to feed a husband and children. Not only over an open fire but in an actual house.”
Why weren’t her dreams as good as Maggie’s and Lindy’s? “What if I don’t want that life? Isn’t it enough that Lindy does? She’s marrying a great guy who makes a boatload of money. They’ll live in a beautiful home and raise perfect kids. That should satisfy your need to have raised the perfect daughter.” Lips pressed firmly together, she pulled in a slow breath through her nose. Why did she let herself get sucked into this conversation every time?
After a brief silence, her mother said, “Honey, I don’t want perfect daughters. I want happy daughters.”
Mikayla met her mother’s clouded gaze and released the breath she’d held. Unlike Lindy and Maggie, she’d given her parents plenty of scares with her choices. She’d broken a leg, both arms, and three toes, had a concussion, gotten stitches countless times, and lost track of time while hiking on her own which resulted in more than one grounding.
“I’m sorry I’m not more like Lindy or Maggie. I’m just…me.”
Closing the oven door, her mother came around the island and wrapped her arms around her. Mikayla sat stiffly under the unusual embrace.
“I love you the way you are, sweetheart.” She went to the sink and rinsed off the utensils. “I just don’t know enough about the things you enjoy to have an actual conversation about them. And that makes me feel like I’ve failed you somehow.”
Mikayla blinked. A surprising admission from her always-put-together mother. “Mom, it’s not you. I was born one lure short of a full tackle box.” One of Dad’s favorite sayings. “But I’m happy doing what I love even if it doesn’t look like Lindy or Maggie’s successful lives.”
Looking back over her shoulder, Mom held her gaze then nodded. “I know you are. And not being able to bake a pie isn’t the end of the world.” She turned back to filling the dishwasher. “I just want you to be happy.”
Mikayla’s shoulders lowered and she studied her short fingernails. Apparently being able to bake an apple pie was a sign of happiness as well as a domestic achievement. As usual, she fell far short in that department. But she could filet a fish better than Dad and start a fire with a couple rocks and a stick. Not exactly domestic but good skills to have.
Except in her mother’s eyes.
Dad knew even less than Mom. As Mikayla sat with him in companionable silence in the middle of the lake Friday mo
rning, casting and reeling, she drew a deep, appreciative breath. Pine, lake water, summer mist. There was nothing better than the peaceful beauty of fishing at dawn.
The cheerful melody of birds darting from tree to tree and the call of a loon filled her heart. Over Dad’s shoulder she watched a trout leap out of the water as if in joyful abandon. Nature celebrated each new day, and she wanted nothing more than to soak it in.
This moment was why the proposal needed to go through—for women to know this peace was available to them regardless of income, skill level, or age. Women who hadn’t heard nature’s invitation to be still and connect with a world far from cell phones and laptops, rush hour traffic, and full calendars.
“Feeling okay?” Dad’s question startled her.
“Sure. Just appreciating the perfection of such a morning.” Sunlight sparkled through the trees as it lifted off the horizon and lit the royal blue sky.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”
They shared a smile and then Mikayla’s pole jerked her attention back to the water. Bingo! She played and reeled, letting the fish tire on the line. Pulling it in, she grinned as her dad swept the northern into the net.
“It’s a beauty, kid. Great job!”
“Thanks. What do you think, maybe eighteen inches?” She held it aloft for the usual photo op, then glanced sideways at him as she slid the fish on the stringer. “Time for you to get serious, don’t you think, Pops? I’d hate to win so easily. Again.”
He chuckled and tapped the visor of her baseball cap. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just letting you enjoy a false sense of security. This contest is all mine.”
“Well, you’d better catch something or there won’t be a contest.” A pair of ducks skidded across the still water, quacking quietly. “Dad, you’re sure you can’t think of anything in your family’s history?”
“Sorry, kid. I’ve tried but nothing comes to mind. Nobody died early or had heart issues. My uncle had Alzheimer’s, and my grandma had cancer. Lots of broken limbs and things since they all spent a lot of time outdoors, but no heart thing like what you have.”
She sighed. She hated loose ends. There had to be a definitive answer somewhere. Flicking the rod back and then forward, she watched the leech sail toward the sun, then drop with a tiny kerplunk.
She’d have to go back through decades of death records to look at every family member’s cause of death. Perhaps there were newborns who hadn’t live much past birth because of a deformity in the heart. Or perhaps it really was a fluke and there was nothing to worry about. That would be something to celebrate, after she ruled out a family tie. It was a mystery she’d solve one way or another. With the procedure scheduled for next Friday, she had time to keep digging.
Moments later the issue was forgotten as Dad reeled in a smallmouth bass that wasn’t giving up without a fight. The contest was on!
~ 5 ~
Mikayla laughed at Beau’s comment, watching her sister trade smiles with the young man she adored. The mid-September wedding was just months away, which seemed like forever but also like tomorrow.
She envied their relationship—how Beau seemed to accept Lindy and her quirks, with only an occasional lift to his reddish eyebrows. He doted on her, supported her, and applauded her work. He was perfect for her. But once they married, Lindy would move into Beau’s house and everything would change. As it should.
Mikayla took a leisurely drink from her water bottle to hide a sigh. They were grown-ups, for Pete’s sake. It was time for things to change, for them to move apart and start their own families. They’d lived together since graduating from college. It wasn’t like they’d stop being besties.
“Right, Mikayla?”
Beau’s question yanked her from her musings. “Sorry, what?”
“Despite preferring to spend her waking hours at a mall with all the germs of society,” he said, “your sister is sickeningly healthy.”
“Interesting choice of words. Yes, she’s always been as healthy as a horse.”
“Nice comparison,” Lindy grumbled from where she snuggled against Beau. “Why can’t it be healthy as a princess or something?”
“Then we’d have to compare everyone to you, princess,” he said.
Mikayla rolled her eyes and laughed.
He winked at her. “Maybe you two aren’t even sisters. That’d explain why she’s been so healthy and you’ve had issues. You’re adopted,” he teased. “Actually, Lin would be the one who was adopted since you look like your mom with the blonde hair and blue eyes.”
Lindy elbowed his stomach. “That’s not remotely funny.”
He shrugged and drained his glass. “If you weren’t twins, it would be something to look into.”
Mikayla forced a smile past the breath caught in her throat. It was too ridiculous to consider. They were opposites, for sure, but there were newborn pictures of them together in the same crib, Maggie hanging over the side dangling a toy. Birthday party pictures from their first to last month’s thirtieth.
Lindy directed the conversation to Beau’s new job, while Mikayla’s mind played the simple statement over and over. While she looked like Mom, Lin had Dad’s coloring. Maggie looked more like Aunt Beth, but she shared a lot of the same mannerisms and quirks as the rest of them.
After watching a movie together, Mikayla pleaded a headache and turned in. With several nights of disrupted sleep behind her, and Beau’s suggestion rattling around in her tired brain, the headache was real. And so were the questions. Hopefully she’d sleep tonight out of sheer exhaustion and be able to laugh about his idea in the morning.
Sitting in the rocker at two a.m. yet again, she opened her laptop and searched for DNA information. Curiosity urging her on, she filled out an online form requesting information, then set the computer aside and returned to bed. The peacefulness that settled over her warmed her faster than the blanket. The results would put the silly idea to rest once and for all. After next week’s procedure, she would finally be able to focus on her future.
In the morning she read through the reply, requested the DNA testing packet and left for the office. As tired as she was, she completed several more sample columns, words flowing fast and clear. Ted’s enthusiastic appreciation of her work spurred her to tweak ideas and words, fine tune photos, and add more ideas to the mag within a mag idea.
When Mom and Dad arrived for dinner that evening, their guest’s familiar voice brought Mikayla squealing from the kitchen. “Mags?!”
Maggie tossed her coat on the couch and caught Mikayla in a hug. “Surprise!”
Mikayla squeezed hard, then released her older sister. “How in the world did you get time off? And why? But thanks!”
Dad chuckled as he passed them. “Leave it to Mikayla to cover all the bases in one breath.” He gave Lindy a peck on the cheek, then rubbed his hands together. “Someone said there’s wine tonight and with the company’s audit underway, I’ll need at least one glass.”
Arm-in-arm, Mikayla led Maggie toward the kitchen, peppering her with questions. Maggie’s crazy schedule often left her barely coherent when they tried to connect. That she took time away from her job to be here made Mikayla’s heart-with-a-hole swell to bursting. Life didn’t get better than having her family under one roof. Unless it was getting them all around a bonfire under a star-filled sky.
After Lindy’s exquisite fettuccine, Caesar salad, and homemade garlic bread, followed by homemade strawberry cheesecake, they remained around the table long after the plates had been cleared, laughing over family memories and bad jokes. Mikayla propped her chin on her hand and studied each face. They shared a lifetime of major events and daily skirmishes. It was ridiculous to think one of them was adopted.
Lindy leaned her head against Dad’s shoulder as they laughed over something. They shared the same dark coloring though Lin’s hair was straight and smooth while Dad’s was a curly mess. Mom and Maggie chatted at the end of the table, heads angled toward each other. Their profiles were si
milar, their smiles identical though Maggie was the only strawberry blonde in the family.
Mikayla sighed quietly. And then there was her. She looked like Mom with thick blonde hair and blue eyes, but her personality was Dad’s into her marrow. She might be on the smaller side like Mom, but she had his strength and athleticism.
“Hey, Mikayla.” Lindy’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Listen to Dad’s new one.”
His endless repertoire of jokes kept them groaning even as they egged him on. Mom interrupted often with news of the local volunteer work they were doing to balance his goofiness. When she shared that “Aunt” Cindy had broken her leg in a fall from her horse, Mikayla and her sisters bombarded her with questions about their mother’s childhood friend whom they considered family.
Maggie’s stories of the breakthroughs her team had made recently for the children she worked with brought tears to Mikayla’s eyes. After Lindy shared news that she’d been assigned a highly anticipated fashion line to promote and market, Mikayla revealed details of her proposal.
Each announcement was met with excitement, and Mikayla reveled in a powerful sense of thanksgiving. Maggie hadn’t been home for nearly a year, which in one way magnified the seriousness of what Mikayla faced, yet reminded her that distance hadn’t diminished their bond. Mom and Dad held hands as they laughed with their daughters. And Lindy…
Her sister glanced sideways at her and winked. As always, they knew each other’s thoughts and moods without sharing a word. Life was good. And it would be even better after the procedure.
Minutes after Lindy left for work in the morning, the DNA testing packet arrived, and Mikayla breathed a sigh of relief. She had no clue how she’d have explained it. After dinner last night, she’d strenuously insisted she clear the table and do the dishes later, wanting to keep everyone’s silverware and glasses in order. The DNA site had said glassware and eating utensils were excellent sources for collecting samples.