by Stacy Monson
Her mother approached a few steps and Mikayla backed toward the door.
“You don’t have to drive all the way up there. I’ll call Cindy right now and get more information. Sweetheart, please talk to your father before you do anything.”
“He’s not—” She closed her eyes as another piece of her heart shriveled. “What would I say to him? ‘Gee, Dad. Thanks for everything, but I’m not really your daughter so now I’m going off to find the sperm donor.’” She shook her head sharply. “I’m not doing your dirty work for you. And there’s no way I want to see his expression when you get around to telling him the truth about me.
“Your lies have destroyed every truth I ever thought I knew. I don’t know who you are, and I sure don’t know who I am. Don’t you dare tell Dad about me until I’m gone. And don’t call me or text or anything else. I’ll let you know if I get to the point where we can talk again.”
She strode to the car, ignoring her mother’s tearful plea behind her, and pulled away from the curb with a spray of gravel. She’d leave first thing in the morning. Without seeing Dad one last time. It would kill her, literally, to see the disappointment in his eyes, the disgust he would no doubt feel toward her and her mother. She’d have to cut the cord herself; she couldn’t watch him do it. A searing pain broke her heart in two.
She’d figure out how to get the answers she needed on her own. And maybe one day, when she could stomach seeing her mother again, she’d come back. For Lin and Maggie and Dad.
~ 10 ~
“What do you mean, you’re going on a trip?” Lindy paused, needle and thread in mid-air, to frown at Mikayla. “We’re planning my wedding!”
Mikayla tucked more socks into the corner of the suitcase. “I’m hardly helping.”
“Of course you are.” Dropping her hands to her lap, Lindy studied her. “I can’t do it without my other half. I won’t.”
Wincing at the words, Mikayla returned to the closet and pulled out several shirts. She used to think that way. Now they were halves that didn’t make a whole. Leaving felt like she was cutting off her right arm. Maybe a leg as well. “You’re getting married. Your other half is Beau.”
Lindy sighed noisily. “Did the anesthesia do something to your brain?”
Mikayla focused on folding a pair of jeans. “I know it sounds like it, but I’ve got to get some stuff figured out. This whole stupid heart thing has thrown me off.” She looked down at the folded jeans in her hands and added softly, “I need to dig into the family history so I know I’m not defective.”
“My gosh, Mikayla, you’re not defective! You had a hole in your heart that was fixed. Why isn’t that enough?”
“Because—” The truth crouched just beneath the surface, waiting to burst forth and spew her pain into Lindy’s life. It would be a relief to share it with someone. But she couldn’t, not before the wedding. “Because I do.”
“I hate to make it about me, but what about my wedding? How long will you be gone?”
“Only as long as it takes to track down the information. I would never miss your wedding, sillyhead.”
Lindy gave a half-hearted giggle at the childhood nickname.
“And you know if it were up to me, you’d be getting married in a meadow somewhere, so it’s best if I stay out of it. That’s what your frou-frou girlfriends are for.”
Lindy snorted, a usually funny habit they shared. “My girlfriends are not frou-frou. But they do have better fashion sense than you.”
“Everyone has better fashion sense than me. That’s not exactly a compliment to them.”
Lindy sat silently watching her pack. “Since you quit your job, how are you going to pay for this?”
“I have savings. And I can write freelance articles on the road.” She dropped onto the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. “Why can’t anyone understand I need answers? I just…” Her voice broke. “I need to know.”
Lindy’s arms came around her in a fierce hug. “Don’t cry, Mickie. I get it. I do. It’s just so unexpected. And the timing is terrible.”
She turned into Lin’s embrace and soaked in the love. She rarely gave in to fear but leaving her best friend was terrifying. Show no weakness. She leaned back and wiped her face. “I know it seems sudden, but it’s all I’ve thought about. Mom and Dad don’t have the answers I need, so I’m going to do some digging for all of us. Then I’ll be back.”
“Before the wedding parties begin, right? Showers and stuff that you hate?”
“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” She hated parties where they sat around with their ankles crossed, eating tiny sandwiches and making small talk. And Lin knew it.
“At least for the wedding. Promise?” Doubt clouded Lindy’s eyes. “I won’t get married without you there.”
How could she promise anything right now? But she would for Lindy. “I absolutely promise to be here for the wedding.”
Lindy grasped her hands. “I hate that you’re leaving without telling me everything. We’ve never kept secrets.”
“I’m—” She’d almost said she wasn’t. But this secret would upend Lindy’s life as it had her own, and that wasn’t fair before the wedding. “I need answers. It may require digging and you hate getting dirty so I can’t drag you along.”
Lindy gave a short laugh. “Are you digging up dead people?”
“Sorta feels that way. More like digging through old records and stuff.”
Lindy leaned forward and rested her forehead against Mikayla’s. “You’ll call if you need anything? Money or help or food? And send me updates? I don’t like you being out there alone.”
If she’d been able to pick a twin, it would have been Lindy. She bumped her forehead lightly against Lindy’s and offered a wobbling grin. “I’m the one who goes camping on my own, remember? You’re the one who hates being alone.”
“Oh, right.” They shared a giggle, then Lindy reached into the closet and pulled out a sweatshirt. “I want some photos of you in this.”
Mikayla rolled her eyes. The hideous green sweatshirt with a multi-colored geometric design across the front had been a gag gift a few years ago. Now they snuck it back and forth into each other’s closet. She stuffed it into a corner of the suitcase. “Fine. When I’m someplace I know no one can see me.”
Lindy helped her pack the jeep, rolling her eyes at the fishing pole, tent, and camping gear already loaded, sniffing when Mikayla slid her suitcase and duffel bag into the backseat.
“I know you have to do this, but it feels like you might never come home,” she sighed as they went back inside arm-in-arm.
“Of course I will. Everything I know is here.” What I thought I knew. She turned and grasped her sister’s hands. “My best friend is here. And there’s a wedding I wouldn’t miss for anything. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Lindy’s brown eyes, so like Dad’s, studied her. “Got your back.”
“Got yours too.”
Long after Lindy had gone to bed, Mikayla sat on the couch in the dark living room looking out the window. She’d always been a decision maker. Loose ends made her crazy. With her world now upside down, she had no clue how she’d fix it. She’d just have to find the truth somewhere along this journey and be back in time for the wedding of the century.
~ 11 ~
The rolling beauty of the wooded Wisconsin hills, the vibrant green of acres of farmland dotted with cows failed to hold Mikayla’s attention. Despite repeated attempts to pull her thoughts to the scenery, the road blurred and she blinked furiously. She’d left without seeing Dad. He’d have known in an instant she was hiding something.
Dad was…Dad. Strong, encouraging. Steadfast. She nodded. That’s what he’d always been in her life. Her rock. She brushed at the tear that burned down her cheek. No matter how the truth changed things going forward, she’d hold onto all that she’d learned from him, their times together, the safety she’d known with him.
The truth had severed her relationship with her mother w
ith the ferocity of a lightning bolt. She’d never trust her again, never believe her. Anger raged hot under her ribs. How could she keep such a secret knowing the longer it went, the more damage it would do?
“If she’d just owned up to it,” she said, smacking the steering wheel. “If she’d thought of someone other than herself, our family wouldn’t be a big lie. Maybe Dad would have—” Pain creased her heart. Maybe Dad would have gotten used to her not being his biologically. Or not.
What would her life look like if he hadn’t shared his love of the outdoors with her? Had never taken her camping, shared peaceful early mornings on the lake, hiked with her in heat and snow and pouring rain? Who would she be without that? What did a future without that even look like?
She shuddered, then blinked against the bright lights sparkling in her mirror. A siren drew closer, and she signaled automatically and pulled onto the shoulder. The lights remained in her mirror, pulling closer until she realized the state trooper had stopped behind her.
With hiccupping breaths and a wildly thumping heart, she wiped at her face and rolled down the window. The tall, stern looking man in reflective sunglasses stopped just short of her door.
He bent slightly to look at her. “Good morning.”
She managed a trembling smile. “Hello.”
“Do you know how fast you were driving?”
The speed limit? Way over? Or maybe under. “Right around the limit? I thought I had the cruise on.”
“Eight miles over, ma’am. And I noticed you were driving a bit erratically. Were you on your cell phone?”
“No. It’s…I think it’s in my purse. Do you want to see it? I can get it—”
“I don’t need to see it. Have you been drinking?”
“I don’t drink.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “I was…crying.”
He removed his sunglasses and studied her. “About what?”
She managed a shaky laugh. “If you have all day, I could explain it.”
“How about the Cliff Notes version?”
“I had heart surgery about a week ago, and then found out that my father isn’t actually my father. And right after that my boss told me the proposal I’d pretty much staked my career on was rejected by the board of directors.” Anger flared. “A bunch of guys who don’t think women know how to fish or hunt or camp. So I quit.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You showed them.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “I sure did. Now I’m unemployed, illegitimate, and have no clue what I’m supposed to do with my life. Oh, and I turned thirty last month. And my twin, who’s not really my twin, is getting married in September to a really great guy who makes tons of money, while I haven’t been on a date in two years.”
“Where are you headed now?”
“My aunt’s resort near Iron Mountain. In the UP. I guess that’s…that’s where I was…” She swallowed a lump of humiliation and lifted her chin. “I’m looking for my biological father to find out if my heart condition is genetic or not. I know he’s not there, but it’s a start.”
She rubbed her temple. “I’m sorry. You must hear sob stories like this all the time. I’m not crazy, I promise.”
“May I see your driver’s license please?”
“Oh. Of course.” She handed it out the window. Nothing like starting this stupid trip with a big fat ticket.
“Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
She dropped her head back against the rest as he returned to his squad car. What a mess her life had become in a mere four weeks. And now she’d joined the ranks of women who cried in front of law enforcement. She thumped her head back a few times. Get. A. Grip. Even if Dad never speaks to you again, you can at least honor him by not falling apart after a few bumps in the road. Along with a speeding ticket.
“Stand strong, kid.” Dad’s deep voice, always edged with laughter, resonated in her heart. “Don’t let a few waves knock you out of the boat. Get your feet under you and ride it out.” The longing to lean into the words, lean into him ached deep inside.
“This is a warning, Miss Gordon.”
She startled at the voice at her window.
“If you’re stopped again,” he continued, “it will be a hefty ticket, and neither of us wants to add that to everything you’re dealing with.”
Tears burned at the kindness in his voice. She nodded, accepting the yellow paper and her license.
“Good luck, Miss Gordon. I hope life gets straightened out soon.”
“Thank you,” she croaked.
He touched the brim of his hat and returned to the car. She set the paper on the dashboard as a reminder, put her license away, then carefully signaled and pulled back onto the highway.
A reprieve. Drawing a steadying breath, she set the cruise control and continued toward the UP.
Parked in one of the few open spots, Mikayla climbed out and stretched her arms overhead. As usual, the place was brimming with activity. How she’d loved visiting Aunt Cindy and Uncle Jim’s resort. They were her parents’ closest friends, so while she had an actual blood aunt somewhere in Canada, Cindy and Jim seemed more like family.
She turned slowly to drink in the familiar sight—the two-story resort nestled among rolling hills, a riot of floral color spilling from window boxes, the full-length front porch as welcoming now as it had been decades ago. Swings at either end beckoned her to “set a while,” as Cindy often said. “No use hurrying through life when all we have is what’s here in front of us.”
With the past upended and the future uncertain, the invitation had never meant more. She would get the information she needed, and then maybe she’d set a while before heading out. Ride horses, hike, soak in the peacefulness. Find the courage to follow this through.
Mom had been here. That man had been here. She narrowed her gaze. Where had they met? Had they gone riding together? Hiked the trails? Or simply slept together and then moved on with their lives?
“There you are!” From the front porch, Cindy and Jim’s daughter Sara waved.
So Sara knew she was coming. No doubt Mom called. Who else had she told? Mikayla approached the building slowly. Long and lean, Sara bounded off the porch like a gangly foal and flung her arms around Mikayla, who returned the hug. She, Lindy, and Sara were inseparable when the families got together. How in the world would she explain her messy life?
“I’ve been counting the minutes since Mom mentioned you were coming.”
Heat crawled up her neck. What had Aunt Cindy told Sara?
Hooking an arm through Mikayla’s, Sara steered them into the building. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been way too long.”
As they crossed the wood plank floor of the foyer, Sara asked one of the front desk girls to bring in some coffee, then they went into the office.
“After six hours in the car, you probably don’t want to, but sit anyway,” she ordered Mikayla, closing the door and waving a hand at the leather couch. “I’m dying to get caught up.”
Mikayla paused before the framed family photos on the wall. “Wow, look how tall James has gotten. Is he taller than your dad?”
“By two inches now.”
“Funny. He’ll always be twelve in my head.” She turned back. “Mom told us Aunt Cindy broke her leg. It sounded serious.”
Sara nodded, frowning. “Got her foot caught in the stirrup when Whiskey hit a hole. Broke both her fibula and tibia. Got a nasty bump on the head as well.”
“That’s awful!”
“It was. It happened on…boy, everything’s running together lately. Two weeks ago tomorrow. She’ll move to rehab on Monday and probably be there at least eight weeks. In a cast for another couple of months after that.”
Mikayla settled on the couch. “Wow. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Sara offered a lopsided smile, dropping down beside her. “Nobody’s sorrier than she is. She’s never been a sit-still kind of person, so this is making her, and thus all of us, crazy. Her fingers work just fi
ne on the phone and computer.”
A quick knock at the door, then it opened and the front desk girl entered with two mugs of coffee. A tiny dog zipped in behind her and bounded toward Mikayla with a happy expression. Mikayla bent down to pet the creature, dancing on fragile-looking back legs, eyes bright as she pawed the air with dainty front feet. “Well, hello! Aren’t you the cutest thing?”
“That’s Lula, Mom’s dog.” Sara thanked the girl for the coffee and waved off her offer to take Lula back out with her. The door closed with a click, and Sara set Mikayla’s mug on the coffee table. “That dog has been an absolute pest since Mom’s accident. Lula, stop it!”
Mikayla scooped her up, laughing when the tiny tongue plastered licks across her face. “What is she?”
“I can never remember. A cross between a Chihuahua and a Papillon. That long hair and the color are more Papillon, although she’s only got the one black ear instead of two.” She rolled her eyes. “And thank goodness they aren’t as big as a true Papillon’s. She can already hear me across the building.”
Mikayla giggled. “She’s adorable.”
“I used to think so, but I don’t have time to give her the attention she wants, which is pretty much 24/7. She can be your buddy while you’re here. She’s only three so she’s still a bit of a puppy. Mom can’t get home fast enough for so many reasons, but that dog is definitely at the top of the list.”
Holding the nearly weightless dog with one arm, Mikayla sipped the coffee. “What I remember most about your mom when we were young is thinking she must have more than two arms because she always had about ten things going at once—something yummy in the oven while cooking something else on the stove, a phone at her ear, and helping run the front desk all at the same time.”
“She’s still that way only she’s doing it from a hospital bed.” Sara sobered and leaned her elbows on her knees. “She told me your mom called.”
No doubt to excuse her behavior of thirty years ago. “And said…”
“That you were heading this way looking for information.”