Maxine strokes the top of his head and coos again as I move the syringe out of the way. Bringing over the raw meat, I place the bowl in front of him, and Max starts to gag. Giggling at her reaction, I grab a bit of the chopped up mouse and repeat the same movements as the water, letting him swallow between pieces. This process takes a little longer with Maxine theatrically gagging the entire time.
"Seriously, get a grip," I tease as the owl swallows the last piece, and she shudders.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn't still furry and had its tail on one of the pieces," she says, handing me the wrapped owl. Gently, I unwrap him and place him back in the carry cage. Cleaning up all the stuff I used, I leave everything neat and tidy again. Then, picking up the portable cage, we head outside to the flight aviary.
"Do you think you'll be able to release him?" she asks me as I enter the long aviary. There’s a double door set up that allows only one to open at a time, making a bird’s escape difficult.
Placing the cage down on the ground, I open the door. "I sure hope so. I don't like to see an animal like this caged if we can avoid it.”
This flight aviary is empty at the moment. In the past, I’ve used it for the rehabilitation of other birds of prey, but I've been able to release most of them or rehome others with a raptor sanctuary. Backing away, I decide to leave him to it. He may not choose to leave the cage until evening, so I'll come back and check on him before I go to bed.
Leaving the cage, we both turn to go, but a screech has us spinning back around. The little barn owl has hopped out of the portable cage and flown up onto one of the bare branches that are sitting under the covered roof. He stretches his wings and ruffles his feathers, getting comfortable.
"Awesome,” she whispers. “It must be such a rush to know you’ve helped.”
I smile at her, feeling a warmth that I’ve only ever gotten from spending time with my animals. “Yes, but there's also the other side too, when no matter what you've tried, you haven't been able to make a difference.” Her smile dims a bit, but I just hip bump her, and she cheers up again.
That's when the sound of footsteps gets our attention, and, turning again, we find Chuck and Melinda waiting for us.
"He's looking good, Harlow." Chuck's deep voice sounds pleased, but the strain on their faces is evident. He’s got his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and his hand is massaging her shoulder in comfort. Melinda’s normally bright eyes are red and her face streaked with tears from crying. My stomach rolls with anxiety at the sight, unable to remember the last time that they both seemed this upset.
"Come on, girls, let's go to my office. We've got some things to talk about." His voice is even, but his eyes are sad when he looks at me, and my previous nerves return with a vengeance.
Chapter Six
Harlow
The office is a little bit stuffy when we first walk in, so Chuck leaves the door open as he takes a seat behind his desk, Melinda perching on the arm of his chair. Maxine and I sit on the two remaining seats, but no matter how much I fidget, I can’t seem to get comfortable. Both of them have serious faces, and my heart races in anticipation of what they have to tell me. My foot taps up and down with nerves as if the right number of movements might magically bleed out the anxiety that’s been building.
"Firstly, I want to apologize for how I reacted," Melinda says to me, her voice full of regret. "It wasn't fair to you, but I needed to talk to Chuck and confirm a few things before I told you anything." I swallow nervously but nod my head. Melinda has been there for me more than Diane ever was, and I don’t know if I could ever hold anything against her.
Once they see that I’m not going to freak out, yet, anyway, Chuck takes over. "The man your mother named on the birth certificate, if she's telling the truth, is indeed the man in the photo. He was and still is my best friend. You've never met him, Harlow, because he hasn't been back to visit since that photo was taken. We always flew to them. I couldn't ever figure out why, but with this recent information, I'm guessing your mom may be the reason he's never returned. He may think she still works for Melinda. We never discuss work stuff when we visit. It's strictly banned."
"Holy shit." Maxine’s gasps as she turns to look at me with excitement in her eyes; clearly, something has occurred to her, and she’s had an epiphany.
"It's also probably why Diane wouldn’t approve for you to leave the state," Melinda adds in. "She knows how close our families are. It was another ‘fuck you’ aimed at us all." She has tears in her eyes, and there’s a nervous twist to her hands that shows how much this moment means to her. "I tried so many times to help that woman, but she wouldn't take it. She became a twisted version of the girl I once knew. You know, when she first got pregnant with you, I was thrilled and thought it would help get back onto the right path, but it just seemed to make everything worse. Throughout the whole pregnancy, she was in and out of one rehab center after another. Finally, once you were born and she held you in her arms, she made the choice to stay sober."
Melinda stops and takes a sip of her glass of wine, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But that only lasted about six months. It was right around the time your eyes changed from blue to the hazel color they are now. She couldn't look at you without saying that you had his eyes. I guess she meant your father, and it was all downhill from there. We tried our hardest to keep her on as long as possible for your sake, Harlow. If you were coming here, I knew you were fed and warm and had all the things you needed. But it just got too much when she stole my engagement ring to try and pawn. She knew I took them off when I ride, and Sherry caught her pocketing it. God, I hated to fire her because it meant I couldn't keep an eye on you, and at that stage we had no proof of neglect. Diane hid it well. By the time we let her go, I hated that woman with a passion I never knew I could feel.” Her shoulders sag in defeat, but her eyes now flash with anger before she takes a couple of calming breaths. Once it recedes, she keeps going.
"We know for sure, one hundred percent, that this man has no idea about you. Not long after staying here, he contracted mumps and was told he would never father children, and he was devastated. When he was a little older, he ended up adopting seven children. I’m not sure whether this is something that will comfort you, but I can guarantee that you would have been loved and wanted." My heart soars at this information, the thought that I would have been wanted, but the fury intensifies now as I realize what my mother deliberately stole from me.
"Why do you think Mom never told him?" My gaze moves between them both as they exchange a glance.
"When Brad was down here, he assumed an alias. Cole is his mother’s maiden name. He wanted to have some fun and not be harassed because of his family name and what it's associated with," Chuck explains, "and it worked."
Melinda takes over, adding, "He was able to enjoy his time down here naturally, and he knew that your mom was attracted to him and not his fortune."
"So why all the secrets? Why didn’t she track him down?" I'm feeling more confused than ever.
"They enjoyed their time together when the four of us hung out, but Diane also had another group of friends, the ones that partied super hard. There were plenty of drugs and alcohol flowing freely, and while Brad likes a drink or two, he’d never indulge in more than an occasional joint. He liked to be in control. Diane wasn't so restrained. She wasn't willing to give it up, and he wasn't willing to look the other way. Not to mention as the summer wore on, she would go missing for days at a time." Chuck's eyebrows draw together, and his forehead creases in a frown, his disapproval of her behavior clear.
"In the end, Brad called a stop to the relationship, and Diane was gutted. She became abusive and stalkerish to the point that he went home so that he could avoid her. When she turned up pregnant, we didn't even assume it was his because she had been partying so hard, it could have been anyone's. As for why she never told him? Your guess is as good as mine, but the fact that she thought he was just a beach bum and wouldn't be able to
get anything from him would’ve factored in. I also think it was a spite thing. He dumped her, so he was going to miss out on you. That’s how twisted she had become by then." Melinda shrugs, looking uncomfortable with how matter of fact she says this all.
"But what she did was rob you of being a part of one of the best families I know." The anger in Chuck's voice is palpable, and there’s a steadily rising flush that’s creeping up his neck, betraying how worked up he is now.
"What now? Are you going to tell him?" I ask quietly, unsure if I want to know the answer or not. "Do you think he'll want to know?"
Melinda gets off her perch and comes over, pulling me up and hugging me, her grip tighter than usual. "Oh, honey, of course he will, and, well, you've already met your grandparents, and they love you to bits."
Looking at her in surprise, I ask, "What do you mean?" The confusion in my voice is evident, and I pull back to make eye contact with her for this next bombshell.
"Well, Brad’s real last name is Summers, so Nana and Poppy Summers are your grandparents." I collapse down into my chair again, my heart pounding at the news, her words echoing in my ear.
"Harlow, Harlow, are you ok?" Maxine grabs my hand and squeezes to get my attention. I feel a wetness on my face, and once I put my hand up to touch my cheek, I discover I'm crying.
"They’re my grandparents?" My voice shakes with emotion; my whole body is trembling in this weird and overwhelming mix of joy, shock, and disbelief. "They're mine for real, not pretend?" Their looks of sympathy are just too much, and those sneaky tears escalate into full-blown sobs. Maxine reaches over and pulls me close again, holding me tight in a warm embrace that’s exactly what I need.
"Oh, honey, yes, that's what was taking so long. I rang them, and they’ll be in the air as soon as they can get their plane ready. They haven't told Brad yet; they want to speak to you first. Make sure you’re ok with this and whether you want to go ahead and meet him and his family," Chuck explains. His words fill me with a sense of relief. The option of having a choice makes me feel a little bit more in control in the midst of this life-altering situation.
Melinda rubs my back in a soft, soothing motion similar to what she would do when I was a kid and not feeling well. "They want you to know that no matter what you decide, they’ll keep your secret. But they’ll insist on you spending more time with them at least. They also hope you’ll consider meeting their son but will leave it up to you."
Taking a deep breath, I pull myself together and wipe my eyes with my t-shirt. "Okay, that sounds good; I can't wait to see them." The smile grows on my face. As a little girl, I would pretend they were mine for real, and now they are.
"What should I do about their son?" I ask, and both Melinda and Chuck shrug.
"That's a decision we can’t make for you, sweetie," Melinda says quietly. My thoughts turn chaotic again, and I bite my lip, not knowing what to do, what decision to make. Maxine snorts and then starts laughing, a completely inappropriate but not entirely surprising reaction from her. We all look at her like she's crazy, eyes wide and an eyebrow raised.
"Oh my God, Diane would be turning in her grave if she knew." I give her a confused look while Melinda and Chuck start to chuckle.
"Honey, your daddy is the CEO of Neighpalm Industries and one of the richest men in the US. That family is worth billions. You just went from rags to riches. She used to come and scrounge a couple hundred bucks off you. Could you imagine if she had been able to get at Brad’s money?"
Melinda and Chuck stop chuckling and frown at these words, and my stomach turns at the information. She’s right. Diane would have worked it to her advantage. "Do you think he's going to think Mom was lying? Should I be prepared for rejection?"
"Nana and Poppy are bringing a DNA sample so we can run it, just to be sure. Not because they don't believe it; actually, I suggested it. It’s to cover everyone's bases as we go forward. It’s standard practice for wealthy families when something like this happens, and it’s as much for Brad’s protection as yours." Chuck shrugs, and I nod my okay, a bit of relief flowing through me at the reminder that no matter what Melinda and Chuck have my back. Maybe she’s wrong, and this is all a dead end. That’s more than likely what's going to happen. My heart drops, but I guess that's my reality.
"You know Poppy Summers always used to say you were the spitting image of their daughter Belinda when she was a child. She passed away when she was a teenager; you have her eyes. He would say how remarkable it was. I think that’s part of the reason they were so enamored with you. Not to mention they have a soft spot for abandoned children. We had mentioned all of Brad’s kids are adopted, but they also each come from family situations that weren’t great. Only two are blood-related, a brother and sister that he didn't want to separate, so he took both. Jacinta’s the same age as you. The boys are all a little older."
"She was fun when we were kids," Maxine assures me, "but I haven't seen them in years. I’d stay behind with you when Mom and Dad would go and visit, so you weren't alone with Nana and Grandad Boston. You always looked so sad when we left, and I hated seeing you that way." I lean over and hug Maxine, surprised by this information. I’d always wondered why she stopped going. She’d told me she had better things to do than hang out with a bunch of boys, but now I know that she was looking out for me. My heart warms a bit, thinking about how she wanted to be there for me and tried to protect my feelings too.
Chuck stands up, a determined expression on his face as he joins Melinda, Maxine, and me. "Look, there's no point standing around and thinking about a bunch of what-ifs. It's an almost eight-hour flight from California, so they won't be here until late tonight, and that's if they left straight away. I'm going to guess they may wait a few hours to leave, so they arrive in the morning and can sleep on the flight. Howard is practical like that; he wouldn't want to get here and have to wake everyone up. Why don't we grab a couple of horses and go for a ride? No training, just some exercise. Get some fresh air and forget about our worries for a while. Tomorrow is soon enough to worry about things we can’t change anyway."
A LITTLE WHILE LATER, we're saddling some horses to go for a ride. I'm using my favorite of the stunt horses, needing some time with one of my best boys. He's a chestnut warmblood gelding who’s popular with the period directors because he's built like a war horse but has a refined elegance to him. Phoenix has been my go-to horse since I sold my own personal mount a few years ago. I was spending so much time at the university and riding the other horses when I did find time to go home, that she was neglected. Midnight was English-trained, and I sold her to a family who was looking to upgrade their teenage daughter to a mount that could take her further in her chosen discipline. The daughter is now doing well on the eventing circuit and has been picked for some junior elite team.
After checking the cinch and putting on my helmet, I lead Phoenix out of the stall to meet the others. Already mounted on their horses, they wait patiently as I lift my left foot into the stirrup and push off with my right before gently sitting down in the saddle. Gathering my reins, I wait for Chuck to take the lead toward the trail we’re going to be taking. Maxine and I ride side by side behind Chuck and Melinda, the latter wearing a backpack that I'm sure is filled with a thermos of coffee and some snacks or something for us to eat at the midway point.
Fond memories of family trips to the pond go back as far as I can remember. Chuck and Melinda had both of us girls on ponies not long after we could walk, and even though I’d moved away when Diane was let go, I always had a pony on the farm. Back then the trips were a lot longer, as the ponies’ little legs didn't cover much ground very quickly, and a rest at the midway point was essential for both them and us. So Melinda started packing snacks, and the plan has never changed even though it takes nowhere near as long to get there anymore.
The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the warmth of the lazy afternoon sun shining down on my face have me breathing out a huge sigh of relief as my body’s tension sl
owly drifts away. We continue like that for a while, the others instinctively knowing that I need the peace and quiet to make sense of all that has happened. The rocking back and forth motion of my horse's walk lulls me into a daze as I try to gather all my scattered thoughts.
Today's revelations have floored me. Never once did I consider the scenario that had been painted. I mean, I’d believed he didn't know and would quite often picture who my ideal dad would be, but never once did I consider that she hadn't told either of us out of spite. I’d just assumed she either didn't know or that she did, and he hadn't wanted me.
Having to change my direction of thinking is throwing me. Now that I know the man exists, and there's a good chance he would like to know me, I have to decide what I want and what is most beneficial to me. I’m an adult now, not a child seeking love and comfort. I have university debt and career decisions to make. Do I have the time to get to know a new family? And speaking of that family, are his adopted children going to be all that keen to get to know me? If they’re anything like Max’s rich friends, I’m not optimistic. Maybe I should just stick to Nana and Poppy and let sleeping dogs lie.
I’m bumped out of my thoughts as the others move their horses first into a trot and then a canter. Needing to pay attention, I let my turbulent thoughts float away on the passing wind. Ducking some low-lying leaves, the thrill of the ride has my spirits soaring. There’s nothing better than flying along a trail, feeling the powerful muscles of the animal beneath you and the thunderous sound of the hooves and wind as it flies by your ears. Crouched down low over my horse's wither, his mane occasionally flicking into my face, I whoop with joy, and the answering sounds from the others has a huge grin spreading across my face. It's times like this, as the feeling of being one of the family warms my soul, that I know I will be forever grateful for Melinda and Chuck and Maxine. For them caring enough not to let me become a statistic, just another unwanted child of a junkie who would go on to become exactly like their mother.
Abandoned Girl (Neighpalm Industries Collective, #1) Page 6