Baby Makes Four

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Baby Makes Four Page 8

by Cynthia Thomason

“This kitchen is really adorable,” Brooke said. “I love the vintage look.”

  “Thanks,” Cam said. “But sometimes the vintage look means I need to have a repairman come out. Someday I will replace the appliances.”

  They caught up on family news, and Esther got to tell of all her adventures, especially her ride on the pony with a “cute boy” named Justin.

  “Oh, my, this sounds serious,” Brooke teased.

  After a few minutes, Brooke gave her sister a serious glance.

  “What?” Camryn asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing. But remember when I mentioned girl time? I was just going to suggest that maybe you and I could have a few minutes alone. Would that be okay with you, Essie?”

  “Okay.” She looked at her mother. “Can I go outside?”

  “You can, but no pony rides when I’m not around. You understand, right?”

  “But can I give Saucy one of the apples we bought this morning?”

  “I suppose. But only if Reed is there to show you how to feed the pony. You can’t approach the horses by yourself.”

  Esther grabbed an apple from a basket on the table. Cam sliced it for her, and Esther ran outside, excited to be anywhere near the pony.

  “All right, sis. Girl time,” Camryn said. “What do you want to talk to me about? It must be good to have brought you all the way from Charleston.”

  Brooke methodically twirled her glass of tea. “I think you’ll agree that what I’m about to tell you was worth the trip.”

  “I must admit,” Camryn said, “my curiosity is definitely piqued.”

  “So hear me out. Don’t go ballistic on me before I can state my case.”

  Camryn pretended to be insulted. “When have I ever gone ballistic...? Oh, wait, there was that one time.”

  “Yeah, one time,” Brooke repeated. “Promise?”

  “Yes, I promise. Now, tell me, for heaven’s sake.”

  Brooke took a deep breath and settled more comfortably on the old wooden chair. “Sometimes it pays to be a news producer,” she said.

  “I’m sure it does, but why are you telling me this now?”

  “We had a guest in the studio a couple of weeks ago. He was interviewed during the six o’clock news about an ongoing lawsuit involving a homeowners association at a local condo complex. The HOA is suing the condo owners for not living up to their contracts.”

  “This is all very interesting,” Cam said, “but what does it have to do with your visit today?”

  “Well, the condo thing has basically nothing to do with my visit. I’m not here to talk about the lawsuit. But this lawyer—the guy who was interviewed, Bill Rappaport is his name—is kind of a big deal in Charleston. He can open doors and get answers if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. And I’m assuming you had a question for him.”

  “Right.” Brooke took a couple of deep breaths. “You know that for years I’ve wanted to find out anything I could about our biological parents...”

  Realizing where the conversation was headed, Camryn sat stiffly in her chair. “I’ve known, yes, but I never understood why. Have you forgotten that I told you countless times to let it go? Those adoption papers were sealed. That’s the way Mom and Dad wanted it, and all parties agreed to the terms.”

  Brooke held up her hand in a placating gesture. “Of course I haven’t forgotten, Cammie, but this has always been an issue between us. You don’t want to know about our parents...”

  “I know everything I need to know. Linda and Craig Montgomery are our parents, and we should both count ourselves lucky that they took us when our mother obviously didn’t want the responsibility of a pair of twins.”

  “I agree with that one hundred percent, Cam. I love Mom and Dad every bit as much as you do. But aren’t you curious? Just a little?”

  “No, I’m not. And I don’t get why you are.”

  Brooke exhaled, taking a deep breath. “You never have. Okay, let me try to explain it to you. There is something missing from our lives. We don’t have the pieces that can make us whole.” As if she sensed that Camryn wasn’t buying her explanation, she took another deep breath. “Remember when we were in middle school and had to make a genealogy chart of our ancestors?”

  “Yes, I remember. I used Mom and Dad’s family as ours because that’s exactly how I think of them. I loved Gran with all my heart.”

  “I know, but I felt like the project was a lie. Every name I added to that chart was a fabrication. None of those names had anything to do with me. The entire chart was filled with substitutes for all the missing pieces, the pieces that make up you and me. The other kids in our class had real families and real ancestors. Maybe it’s my reporter’s instincts kicking in, but I want...no, I need to know what my missing pieces are.”

  “But I don’t, Brooke. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Mom and Dad, and I think prying into this piece of history would hurt them badly. Also, I feel pretty certain that what I would discover about our birth parents would only result in pain for everyone involved, but especially for you and me.”

  Camryn paused a moment. “I hate to be so blunt, Brooke, but I believe that uncovering this particular molehill would only reveal a mountain of regret. My instincts tell me that the people we have become, thanks to Mom and Dad, are probably the exact opposites of our biological parents and the values they would have instilled in us.”

  Brooke frowned. “It’s not like you to be such an elitist, Camryn.”

  “Elitist! That’s ridiculous.” She spread her hands to encompass her kitchen. “Would you look where I live?” She plucked a few feathers from her blouse. “How about this shirt I bought at the Value Center in Bufflehead Creek? If I were any kind of an elitist, I would still be living with Mark and entertaining the upper echelon of the corporate world.”

  “Whoa, whoa,” Brooke said. “I picked a poor choice of word. It just sounded like you are afraid our parents would turn out to be poor or uneducated.”

  “That’s not what I meant. People’s values aren’t tied to their income or how long they’ve spent in school.” Camryn stood, pacing around her small kitchen. “No, Brooke, I don’t want to know anything about them.”

  Brooke lowered her head and spoke so softly Camryn couldn’t hear her. “What did you say?”

  Brooke leaned in. “I said, it’s too late. Bill Rappaport was able to track down the records and have them unsealed. I asked him how he’d managed that and he simply said, ‘Don’t ask.’ But if you or your sister is ever in front of a Charleston judge, and asked how either of us is feeling after discovering our link to a genetic childhood disease, we should say we’re doing much better.”

  “So he lied to get the records opened,” Camryn said.

  “I prefer to call it creative persuasion.”

  Camryn sat heavily on the chair again. “I can’t believe you did this, Brooke. Against my wishes.”

  “What about my wishes? Don’t they count as much as yours?”

  Camryn didn’t have an answer, so she kept silent.

  “It was just too great an opportunity for me to have a past, a real past, with names that mean something,” Brooke said. “A genealogy that actually exists! When I met Bill, and he said if I ever needed anything...well, I started telling him.”

  Camryn drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “I don’t want to know my past, Brooke. If you do, that’s your business. But I believe it will only bring me heartache. And I suggest you forget you ever opened this Pandora’s box. Throw the information away and try to forget it.”

  “I’m not going to do that, Cammie. You know me better than that, just like I know you better than you give me credit for.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Brooke took some papers from her shoulder bag. “It’s all here in black-and-white, at least the details abo
ut our mother. And now that you’re aware that all you have to do is look at the name and the address, I know your natural curiosity will get the better of you. It always has. You’ve always dug another few inches into the dirt to find buried treasure. And that’s what this could be, Cam—buried treasure about our lives.”

  Camryn gave her a hard stare. “Don’t play me, Brooke. Don’t try to anticipate what I will or won’t do.”

  Brooke paused and ruffled the papers, an annoying act that seemed designed to hold Camryn’s attention. After a few moments, she said, “She lives in Myrtle Beach, Cam. Less than an hour’s drive from here.”

  Cam wanted to stay angry. She’d always vehemently objected to searching out their parents. And now Brooke had betrayed her by pursuing the search on her own. But the sight of those papers, the knowledge that her history was hidden inside them... Could she do this? Maybe she could just see the woman from a distance. Maybe that would be enough. Bottom line, though, she should ignore the proposition Brooke was presenting. That’s what she should do. But those papers, so tempting...

  Camryn sighed. “Give me your word, Brooke, that you will never tell Mom and Dad we did this. You have to promise. Otherwise...”

  “Of course, Cam. I don’t want them to know any more than you do. I don’t believe that finding our mother is a betrayal of what Mom and Dad mean to us, but they could read something into our quest that simply isn’t so.” She reached across the table and took Camryn’s hand. “I will never tell them, Cammie. Never.”

  In the end, this was Brooke, the sister she’d loved forever. “One trip to Myrtle Beach, Brooke. One time. If we don’t find her, that’s it. I won’t go back.”

  “Understood.” Brooke put the papers away. “Pick a day this week. Essie will be in school. You’ll be home before she is.”

  Camryn’s mind was spinning. Pick a day. Choose a time to do something that had the potential to hurt people she loved. She shook her head. “Wednesday, I guess.”

  “Great. I’ll arrange to get the day off work. I’ll meet you at the highway rest area at the Myrtle Beach exit at nine o’clock, and we’ll drive one car from there. Can you be on time?”

  Camryn simply nodded. Her throat felt too dry to utter any words.

  Brooke stood and came around the table. She folded Camryn in a fierce hug. “Oh, thanks, Cammie. I need this. I really do. And I need you beside me, presenting a unified front. I love you,” she whispered in Camryn’s ear.

  “I love you, too,” Camryn said.

  And then the quiet of the kitchen was broken by an ear-splitting cry for help.

  “Mommy, come get me! Help me, Mommy!”

  Camryn shot to her feet and sprinted for the door. With Brooke following her, she ran to the barn.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I’M COMING, ESSIE!” Camryn screamed as she tore across the yard. Her heart was racing so fast she hardly heard her own words and just barely noticed the chickens squawking and fluttering in confusion.

  The barn doors were wide open. Camryn’s first thought was that one of the horses had gotten out of its stall and had injured Esther. She flew into the open doors and stopped dead. There, above her head, were Esther’s two legs, hanging down from an opening in the hayloft at least twenty feet above the barn floor.

  “Esther, I’m here, baby,” she called out. “What happened?”

  “I fell through, Mommy,” Esther said, her words muffled by tears. “I stepped on a board, and it went crack and I went through the hole.”

  “Try not to move, Esther. You have to stay real still until I can get to you.”

  “But my arm hurts, Mommy.”

  Camryn searched frantically for a ladder. There must be a ladder. She finally saw it leaning against the loft. A pair of large feet at the end of two long legs balanced on one of the top rungs. She could just see Reed’s head above the hayloft. Hay rained down onto the barn floor as he scooted across the boards, scattering everything that blocked his path to Esther.

  “I’ll get her,” Reed called out. “Stay calm, Esther.”

  Camryn clenched her hand over her mouth. “Don’t wiggle, baby. Reed’s coming to get you. Can you hold on?”

  “I think so. My arms didn’t go through.”

  “If you feel like you’re going to fall, I’m right here underneath you. Auntie Brooke is here, too. We’ll catch you.”

  “What hurts, Essie?” Brooke called out.

  “Just my arm. It’s not so bad right now.”

  Reed’s legs disappeared from view. Camryn had to imagine the rescue taking place by just watching a path of dust motes as he made his way to her daughter.

  “I’m here behind you, Esther,” he said. “I can almost reach your arm. Be still, sweetheart. I’ll pull you up.”

  “Please hurry, Reed,” Camryn yelled. “She’s going to lose her grip and fall.”

  A few seconds later, Camryn heard the words that allowed her to finally take a nearly normal breath.

  “I’ve got her, Cam,” Reed said calmly. “I’m pulling her up right now.”

  Slowly, a few inches at a time, Esther’s legs ascended through the hole, and she was soon back on the unstable flooring of the hayloft.

  “Be careful, Reed,” Camryn said. “Those old boards are obviously not safe. I don’t need both of you falling through.”

  “I’m sending Esther down first,” he said. “I’ll hold her while you climb partway up the ladder. Just position yourself a rung or two underneath her in case she slips. But her legs seem fine.”

  Esther’s thin frame appeared at the top of the ladder. Reed held tightly to her upper arms as Esther found her footing on the top rung. Camryn climbed as fast as she could to meet her daughter. “You can start down now, sweetie,” Camryn said. “I’m right here.”

  She kept her hands on Esther’s hips, guiding her down the ladder. Seconds seemed to drag until Camryn reached the bottom. Brooke was waiting to grab Esther. When her boots touched the floor, Camryn hugged Esther and they both collapsed on the straw-covered planks. Camryn’s hands wandered quickly over Esther, checking her arms and legs. “Are you okay? I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  “I’m okay, Mommy. I just scratched my arm.”

  Brooke stood with her cell phone in her hand. “Should I call 911?”

  “Hang on a minute, everybody,” Reed said, reminding Camryn that he was still on the precarious landing above them.

  “Oh, Reed, be careful,” Camryn said. “Don’t injure yourself.”

  “I don’t intend to.” He began a slow descent down the ladder. Dust and straw billowed around him in the breeze coming through the barn. He was filthy, and so was Esther. Camryn figured no one had been in that loft for decades.

  He hopped the distance of the last few rungs and came over to the women. “Let me look at you, Esther.”

  “Is he qualified to determine her injuries?” Brooke asked. “I mean that was a daring rescue and all, but Esther might need a doctor.”

  “I’m the closest thing here,” Reed said. “I’m a vet.”

  “Okay, that’s better than nothing, but since my niece is not a horse I still say we should call the paramedics.”

  “Stop it, Brooke,” Camryn said. She gently urged Esther into Reed’s waiting arms. “We’re lucky that Reed was here today. He got to Esther before we did, and I’m thankful for that.” She turned to Reed. “How did you know Esther was in trouble?” she asked.

  “I heard her calling for you, and I came running from the paddock. Believe me, Cam, after she fed Saucy the apples, I made her go away from the horses.”

  “Esther, you came back to the barn?” Camryn asked. “I told you to stay away.”

  “But I wanted to,” Esther said.

  The eventual punishment for disobeying was the farthest thing from Camryn’s mind.

  Reed
asked Esther a few questions and soon had her laughing. “She’s fine, Cam,” he said. “She was mostly scared.”

  “I wasn’t scared,” Esther insisted.

  Camryn ran her hand down Esther’s hair. “Of course you weren’t, honey.”

  “Yeah,” Brooke said. “That’s why we all heard you from a few hundred yards away.”

  Esther giggled. Camryn thanked Reed for rescuing Esther, and then she finally relaxed. She’d never been so happy to see someone’s boot heels as she’d been to see Reed’s from the loft.

  Reed seemed focused entirely on Brooke. “You two look alike,” he said after a moment.

  “Oh, sorry,” Camryn said. “Reed, this is my twin sister, Brooke. Brooke, this is Reed Bolden. He rents my barn.”

  “So this is the guy you...”

  Camryn immediately interrupted her. “This is the guy who rents my barn. I just told you that.”

  “Right. The barn renter,” Brooke said.

  “Twins,” Reed said. “I should have guessed.”

  Camryn frowned. Sure. Because my hands are all callused. I have muscles where girls should have soft curves. And my hair hasn’t been styled in months and is covered in barn dust. Brooke, on the other hand, never did manual labor, has gorgeous curves where they ought to be, and has nothing in her hair but a pricey tortoiseshell clip.

  “You here for a long visit?” Reed asked Brooke.

  “Nope. In and out in one day. But at least I didn’t miss all the excitement.”

  “Speaking of excitement,” Camryn said, “Esther, we need to talk about why you came to the barn by yourself. I told you...”

  “I wasn’t by myself,” Esther said. “Phillip and Justin were here with me.”

  Camryn immediately sensed this story would end badly. “Why did you climb up to the hayloft in the first place? And how did you even get the ladder over there where it needed to be?”

  “Phillip and Justin brought it over.”

  Reed’s face changed in an instant. A small vein throbbed in his temple. “They did what?”

  “They brought me the ladder so I could climb up. They said they had already been in the loft, and if I wasn’t a scaredy-cat I would go up, too. They said they would come up right behind me.”

 

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