Tugging, I pull the pitcher away and quickly pour her drink. After putting it down, I lift the one well doused with alcohol for myself. I’m about to take a sip when Ev stands. Pausing with the glass so close to my lips, I put it back on the table.
What’s he about to say? Panic assails me. A glance at the other table occupants shows no outwardly indication that there’s anything wrong, so I try to calm my racing heart.
“I’d like to propose a toast. Linnie, we’re honored you’re able to take the time away from your job to join us at our table. Having found you has been a surprise, yes, but a wonderful one. I hope you know we’ll all do what we can to make you feel welcome in this family.”
“Thank you, Ev. I’m honored to be here.” Father and daughter share identical smiles.
Mom tears up. “Excuse me,” she sniffs. She jumps up from the table to go dab at her eyes. Linnie’s eyes follow my mom with some concern whereas Ev looks on indulgently.
Way to go, Ev, I think bitingly. We can’t even get through a family meal together without some drama.
“Ev, should I…” Linnie starts, but Ev cuts her off.
“No, darling. She’s okay. She’s just as happy to have you here as I am,” Ev reassures her. Linnie relaxes slightly in her chair. He remains standing until my mother comes back just a few moments later, her eyes slightly damp but a huge smile on her face.
“Now, look at the trouble I’ve caused. I hope dinner isn’t too cool.”
“Mom, if you cooked it, even if it’s as cold as an iceberg, it’s still going to require a pitcher of drinks to get through.”
Linnie reaches for her drink while eyeing her plate askance.
I laugh out loud, absorbing her small movements. “If you don’t like it hot, don’t eat in Char Parrish’s kitchen,” I warn her wickedly.
“Let’s finish the toast before you terrify the poor girl, Monty,” Ev chastises me. “Welcome, Linnie. It may not seem like it now, but we hope you will come to think of this place as a second home. Cheers.” He leans forward with his glass.
“Cheers.” Mom lifts her glass.
“Cheers,” Linnie repeats, a hint of doubt in her voice.
I touch my glass to all of theirs, not saying a word. Instead, I take a long pull of my drink when we separate before I ask, “So, Linnie, have you ever been riding?”
A self-deprecating smile crosses her face. “Does riding in a carriage behind a horse around Central Park count?”
“Umm, not exactly,” I laugh. I appreciate her honesty. Watching skilled people on a horse make riding look easy when it’s anything but.
“Then no, I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll have a chance while you’re here,” Ev says consolingly.
“I feel like I’m Alice in Wonderland,” Linnie bemoans. Everyone laughs.
I give her a brief once-over. “You’re about the right size. How do you look with blonde hair?” I tease.
Imagine my shock when Ev shoves away from the table with his hand clapped over his mouth. “What did I say?” I ask my mother. She shakes her head, her face wreathed in mirth.
Linnie’s the only one able to speak. “Ask me that again some other time. So, what kind of horse do you recommend for someone who’s frankly scared of losing a foot?”
I explain how gentle all of our horses on the property are as we teach classes for children of all ages and skill level. Linnie asks a few questions, and soon the conversation around the table turns to the farm, how certain horses are faring, and Mom promising Linnie a full tour soon.
Where the questions don’t go is to the mysterious brunette whose eyes sparkle as she takes small bites of the delicious food Mom prepared even as I shovel it in.
I didn’t realize before I sat down how hungry I was, both for information and food.
Twenty-Seven
Montague
“Linnie, I hope this tastes good. They didn’t have the brand you mentioned you liked, so I asked the store clerk, and they said this is just as good.” My mother looks on anxiously while sliding a small bowl of greek yogurt and berries in front of Ev’s daughter. It’s impossible to think of Linnie as my stepsister, especially since very lucid images of her have been easing their way past the nightmares that plague me each night. It’s not stopping me from waking up bathed in sweat, or being unable to go back to sleep without a little help from my friend Maker’s Mark, but thinking of Linnie Brogan is that calm that eases me back into slumber with less anxiety despite the liquor tearing a hole in my stomach.
Linnie shoots her a dazzling smile, which relieves none of the tension I’m feeling but which draws an equal one from my mother. “Thanks, Char. This is perfect.” She plucks a ripe strawberry out of the dish and dips it into the yogurt. “Delicious! And these berries are so fresh! Where did you get them?”
My mother beams. “I’ll take you shopping with me next time we go. This store is insane. You have to go in with a list, and then you have to expect to spend 20 percent more than what you think you’re going to…”
“Is that what happens to the grocery budget,” Ev gripes as he shoves a bite of food into his mouth.
“Everett!” Mom snaps at him. I grin.
This should be weird, but it feels right. Linnie fit into our early-morning routine on the farm quickly. When we explained we rise early, she merely shrugged and said, “I’m normally done with my run by then. It gets too hot in the city otherwise.”
That sends something niggling in the back of my brain that I just can’t let go of. Then again, maybe it’s the sight of her luscious body in tight leggings that reminds me I’d have to be dead not to notice. Her ample breasts have to be suffocating in whatever sports bra she’s wearing under the sweaty, ragged tank that says “Will Dance for Food.”
“How many miles did you get in this morning?” Ev asks as he passes her the carafe of coffee.
I almost choke when she says in a disgusted voice, “Only four. I normally can get in more, but I forgot something.” Jesus, four miles? That’s insane for a new runner around this area. Middleburg is nestled in the valley of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and driving in a car is like taking a roller-coaster ride at Disney.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“You’re all insane trying to run up and down mountains.” The table breaks out into gales of laughter.
Ev’s still chuckling when he says, “Not used to our little bumps in the road?”
“Not in the slightest. I thought I was going to have to crawl back up the driveway.” I cough to try to disguise my laughter but fail miserably based on the narrow-eyed glare I’m receiving.
“Let me guess, this is nothing for you?”
I offer her a smile, which, to my surprise, she returns. Maybe her stay with my family won’t be as frustrating as I initially anticipated. “When I was in the Navy, they had us run five miles before breakfast, eat, do maneuvers, and mentally, I’d be praying to God I didn’t puke. Then later, we’d run another five with full gear on.”
Linnie’s chewing, but her gaze is thoughtful. “How long did you serve?”
“About twelve years.”
I’m floored when she says, “Thank you for your service. With everything that happened during the first time we met, I don’t think I said that, and I try to. Since I’ve lived in New York my whole life, my city’s landscape—and I don’t just mean our skyline—was changed after September 11. I hold great admiration for the bravery of our first responders and our armed forces.”
The sincerity behind her words touches me deeply. It doesn’t change anything though, I tell myself firmly. Neither her words nor the way she looks is deterring me from wanting to know all her secrets, but I figure they’ll all come out in due time. Everyone’s does.
“Appreciate that.” As my mother brings over a basket of warmed rolls to the table, I don’t miss her subtle slap to the back of the shoulder.
“Linnie, so if today was a running day, does that me
an you’re not going to be working out?” Ev asks, casually. In the weeks since she’s been gone, Ev had contractors turning an unused barn into a blank space that almost resembles a dance studio for reasons he wouldn’t share. “Listen, Monty, women like these kinds of things. They can do yoga and shit. Linnie will love it. In bad weather, your mother can use the space for indoor functions.” He was right. Mom was delighted, but I’m not convinced if this wasn’t something the little bombshell across the table asked her rich daddy for.
She shakes her head. “I’d like to get my bags unpacked, and then I have a few calls to make. I know we talked about renting some space for me to work. A place was recommended in”—her brow furrows—“Ashburn? Does that sound right? They seem to be the right fit for what I need, and the cost is reasonable.”
Huh. Linnie has no idea what Ev did for her. I flick my eyes over to him.
Mom lays her hand on Linnie’s arm. “Why don’t you finish up, get comfortable, and then we’ll give you the tour of the grounds before you get started. How about that?”
Her smile raises the warmth in the room by at least five degrees. “I’d love that, Char. Thank you so much for your hospitality. It truly does mean a great deal.”
Mom squeezes her arm before letting it go. “Good. And then you can tell me if you’ll eat what I have planned for tonight’s dinner or if there’s something else you want me to add on the menu.”
“You’re sweet, but I’m used to making do.”
“Are you like a vegan or something?” Getting narrow-eyed stares from the two people who raised me, I backtrack quickly, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Linnie tips her lips up. “No, but with what I do, I can’t afford to put on more than a few pounds. I have to be very careful about my diet. I can’t overindulge too often, and like I’ve said, I never drink alcohol.”
“Communications jobs are strict about that kind of thing?” I’m confused. I understand the no-alcohol deal is her rule, but the rest seems like a recipe for an HR disaster.
“Let’s just say Linnie’s in the spotlight a lot,” Ev says smoothly. Linnie ducks her head but not before I catch the mischievous smile she shares with her biological father.
There’s so more to this woman. I know it.
I just can’t put my finger on it.
* * *
“Okay, Ev. Spill it. What is the deal?” I manage to corner him as my mother and Linnie are walking around the pool area toward the back steps.
“I don’t understand your question, Monty.”
“What changed between you and Linnie during your last visit together?” What miraculously sprouted out of her mouth to make you suddenly trust her like you’ve known her for decades is what I want to ask, but I hold my tongue.
“I learned more about her. It cleared up several things.”
“Like?” I demand.
He shakes his head. “If she chooses to share them with you, that’s her prerogative.” We’re following my mother and Linnie through the manicured backyard toward the first horse barn.
“You got to give me something here, Ev.”
I’m surprised when he spins around and gets into my personal space. “No, Monty, I really don’t. That’s my daughter you’re speaking of, not some stranger. I know this adjustment is unsettling, but I won’t have you persistently questioning every word out of her mouth.”
I take a step back in shock. Ev holds up his hands placatingly. “While I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, especially since I’ve become sick, I won’t have you treating her like that. You don’t have to accept her, but you do have to be polite. She is my family. If she isn’t yours, so be it. But she’s a guest in our home, and you will treat her with the respect that is due.” Ev leaves me standing there shell-shocked to join my mother and Linnie. And ever since the first time since I was caught stealing from his liquor cabinet, I feel ashamed.
Taking a deep breath, I relax every muscle in my body. All around me, little sounds fill the air: a buzz of a fly, a horse’s tail swooshing through the air. Just as a horse lets out a snuff of welcome, I hear Linnie’s peal of laughter. My heart starts racing.
How can she be accepted so readily when I feel like it took half my life to find my way to belong? I tip my head back as bitterness and shame wash over me. Ev’s right. I’m not expected to embrace her, but she is essential to him. So, unless I can figure out what is bothering me about her, I will respect her.
After giving them a few more minutes alone, I head in their direction, rejoining them just in time to catch Linnie reach out to touch a delicate bloom growing on the far side of the barn. Her fascination isn’t faked. I imagine with the hard stone and steel of New York, the lush landscape of Virginia has to be an anomaly to her. “This is like visiting a park or a zoo. I can’t imagine the effort that goes into maintaining it.”
My mother laughs. “If it wasn’t for my love of flowers, and Ev and Monty’s love of me, I guarantee it wouldn’t look this pretty. They’d likely have bushes all over the place and call it a day. But if it weren’t for Monty taking over recently, none of the farm would run the way it does, would it, Ev?”
“Not at all. He’s an amazing manager and a terrific son.”
From where I’m standing, I have a clear view of Linnie’s fingers leaving the flower and touching Ev’s. A hesitant but solid bond is being built there that damn if I’m not a little jealous of. How is it she manages to obliterate all of my preconceptions when she says, “I’m so glad you had that—that you all have that. Family ties are…everything.”
Her husky voice is filled with pain.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Mom steps forward. Linnie resists for half a second before accepting her embrace. “Even as you get to know your father, you’re going to grieve your mother. That’s perfectly normal. We understand that.”
And Linnie bursts into sobs.
I back away again, giving them this moment because although it’s vastly different, I too know what it’s like to not have a parent.
And like Linnie, I know what it’s like to gain Everett Parrish as one.
Twenty-Eight
Evangeline
“I’m so sorry.” I wipe my eyes on the handkerchief Ev hands me.
“Why? Is grief supposed to have a time limit?” he questions simply. I shake my head no. Of course not. “Then don’t apologize for loving someone so much you feel so much pain when they’re gone.”
The sound of my breath is wobbly, but my words are clear when I say, “Virginia may be good for me in many ways.”
“I hope so. Now, there’s one more building we wanted to show you. There’s a barn on the right up ahead.”
“Do you also churn your own milk or something?” I joke. “Maybe make your own cheese?”
Ev snorts. “After seeing the amount you ate of that cheese board, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
I push him lightly. “Hey, wasn’t it you who asked the waiter where all the cheese was from, and if you could buy pounds of it to go?”
Char laughs. “You two are like peas in a pod.”
Immediately, I feel awful. Here I am, her husband’s unknown daughter, and I feel like we’re leaving her out when she’s done so much for me. I begin stammering, “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean… I never meant…”
Char slides under Ev’s outstretched arm. “Linnie, sweetheart, Ev and I have no secrets. None. We both know we had pasts. Was it a shock to find out you existed? Certainly. I think what was harder was the facade you put up because you were afraid of being used.”
My eyes dart to Ev before they accurately read Charlotte’s serene face. “You know.”
“Yes, Ev wouldn’t keep something that huge from me. But we will keep it from everyone else until you’re ready.”
“Or unless I’m recognized,” I joke.
She tips her head. “Does it happen often?”
“No.” I think back to the lunch at Wolf’s Deli with my family. “More of
ten in New York than anywhere else.”
“I’m honored to know such a strong and fierce woman,” she admits.
Ev kisses her head. “Char, honey, I think those are the same thing.”
She adamantly shakes her head. “They are not. Linnie’s strength comes from inside. She didn’t crumble when everything fell on her heart. Her fierceness is because she’s determined to do what’s right for herself, her career, and her life. They are different.”
I blink away tears. I have a feeling when I eventually go back to New York, it’s going to be just as hard to leave Char as it will be to leave Ev. I change the subject. “So, you were saying something about a second barn?”
Ev’s smile grows wide; Char’s goes wonky. “Oh, Lord. Do you butcher cows there or something?”
They both break out into gales of laughter. Extending the arm not wrapped around his wife in front of him, he says, “Let’s go see.”
I walk behind them along the flagstone path to the well-maintained barn.
It’s dark when we step in. There’s air of some type running. “Well, there’s no smell of sacrificed animals. That’s good.”
Char laughs.
“Give me a moment to find the light switch… Ah, here it is.” Ev turns on the overhead lights.
I gasp and feel the smooth bar hit me in the lower hips. It still doesn’t jolt me from my shock.
I never expected this. Never.
The studio gleams, beckoning me.
Almost in a trance, I can’t control the need to do a chasse en tournant on the beautiful maple floors. Without realizing it, I flick off my shoes and begin dancing to the music that naturally flows out of my mouth. To the background of my voice singing “Use Somebody,” I lose myself. Even though I’m not en pointe, I’m gliding around the room executing grande pliés, detournes, pirouettes, and fouettés. My voice fades as I sink to the floor.
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