She’s right. I nod and agree. It will be awkward. I feel very alone amidst all of them, but I’m here. And I’m doing it, so why not do it full on?
Max grins. “I agree, but only if Will cooks. Something tells me there is no way Natalie could be a vegetarian.” Rolling his eyes, his smile is teasing as he says, “Jessie and Melissa, she’s the middle girl, you’ll meet her, are total vegetarians. The rest of us insist that Will always cooks when we come over. He sure can grill a mean steak.”
Jessie’s unexpected smile is like a beam of sunlight after a showery, dark day. I see the relief as the lines of her face relax. Max is familiar and obviously makes her feel grounded. I think he’s doing it on purpose too. I get it, but kind of resent it. I’m the awkward outsider, and that’s solely because of Jessie. I don’t belong here. I have never met my own blood relations because of her, and now she’s beginning to feel more at ease.
“How did you know?” I ask the kid.
He shrugs with a cocky grin. “You strike me as a girl who appreciates a good steak. You look like you work out and lift weights. I bet the last girlie thing you did was probably wear a wedding dress. I get it. I like it. I’m into that stuff too.”
“You’re more than into it,” Jessie scoffs as she turns.
Max ducks his head as if embarrassed and gives me a little, helpless smile. “I used to fight a lot.”
“He used to be a regular in a fight club. And if you ever do that again, you’ll wish one of those losers you went up against got to you before Christina or I do.”
He rolls his eyes with a good–natured shrug. She pretends to be kidding, but her warning is serious. I sit back, content to witness the microcosm of their lives. I know nothing about them, or what makes them tick. I probably should, biologically speaking. But I don’t. I don’t know how to feel around them. Max’s presence and light humor take some of the pressure off. Otherwise, this momentous occasion would overwhelm me for sure. A sense of panic enters my head and the need to ask as many questions as I can think of. My mission is to gather information, but I almost don’t know where to start.
I’m wound too tightly. I feel out–of–body weird.
Jessie is busy washing the vegetables she just pulled from the fridge and Max says, “Jessie? The steaks?”
Over her shoulder, she rolls her eyes and replies with mock–exasperation, “Fine. Will can grill them. But we will have some vegetables and rice as side dishes. I hope you like that?” The question is directed to me over her shoulder. Naturally, she wouldn’t know because she never fed me. Not once. For a second, a weird flash of déjà vu fills my brain and I have to lower my eyes and stare at the countertop. I so easily recall seeing my own mother years ago, turning to listen to my day at school as she washed vegetables for my dinner. My mother, who knew I would never touch the onions Jessie is now so busily setting out on a cutting board. My real mother knew I couldn’t even stand the smell of them, and consequently never allowed them in the house.
But Jessie isn’t my real mom. I mutter, “That’s fine.”
The sound of thumping causes Max to straighten up. “Cousins are home.”
“Your cousins?” I ask, an edgy tone to my voice.
Max grins and shrugs. “Yup. My cousins.”
“But Christina isn’t? How does that work?”
“Very strangely,” Jessie interjects as she dries her hands on a dishtowel. She skirts around the bar and I wait for her to reprimand me with some kind of warning that I should not upset her younger daughters. Or tell me to behave myself. Or forbid me from telling them the truth of my identity… just something. But instead, she presses her lips together and says, “I hope this is okay? If we are deluging you with too much too soon, please tell me.”
“No, I’m here. I guess…”
“You’d like to see?”
“Yes, I’d like to see.” Jessie holds my gaze and we share a long look for the first time I almost think some kind of understanding could exist between us. She finally shakes her head, as if reminding herself to stay in the moment. She turns when the entry is suddenly filled with loud voices and shuffling.
In walk two young girls, both slim and adolescent. One has dark hair, the other blonde. They eagerly deposit their backpacks and coats, while kicking off their shoes carelessly. Without even glancing around, neither seems to notice the three of us adults sitting there.
“I can’t believe you said that in front of him! I mean, he’s going to think I like him or something. You’re so dumb.”
“No, I’m the smart one; everyone knows that. He doesn’t like you anyway. He’s—”
“Girls?”
One word and both teens whip around to face Jessie. She stands there quietly, her hands on her hips, her mouth pursed and both eyebrows raised. Only a low, quiet Girls could end their adolescent bickering. They immediately straighten up and look around, finally taking in Max and me.
“Mom! What are you doing home so soon?” the blonde replies. Now her voice sounds polite and sweet, despite insulting her sister over how smart she was only a half second before. She smiles and so does the brunette.
So soon? I guess I assumed Jessie’s always here. I glance at her and she shakes her head.
“Something came up. I was home for lunch when I got a call from Christina’s friend, Natalie. I didn’t go back in to work. Girls, I’d like you to meet someone if you can quit being rude and horrible to each other. Do I miss this pleasure every afternoon?”
They glance at each other and their guilt is clearly on their faces. Our cars are parked out front, so I’m a little surprised how unaware they seem to our presence. I suppose they are just teens who don’t think beyond what they’re doing. I remember Sam, Dustin and me, coming and going from each other’s apartments after school. My heart squeezes with nostalgia. We were always talking that way to each other. Usually, Sam would try to get me going by saying what I could not do. He was always implying, and quite convincingly at times, that it was because I was a girl. I reacted by spending the next few hours proving him wrong. I was hell–bent to demonstrate I could do anything he could. Screw boys! My heart aches now as I slide to my feet. All the fond memories I have of Sam are flooding my brain. What upsets me more? Meeting my long-lost sister and mother? Or surviving the betrayal of the boy I once adored, trusted and loved?
“This is Melissa and Emily. Girls, this is Natalie. Natalie is the friend Christina went to see in San Francisco the summer she graduated.” I glance up, startled at Jessie’s comment, and she widens her eyes, squeezing her shoulders together as if to convey she is trying not to lie.
“Hi,” both girls chorus. Their gazes settle on me for only a moment, but I instantly sense there is nothing all that compelling about me to them. Unlike my interest in them, theirs is only casual disregard. I stare at each one in turn, searching again for any recognition, or feeling of connection. Or resemblance. But I don’t see it. They don’t even look like Jessie. Not like Christina does.
“Hey. Nice to meet you.” I try to keep my voice casual, easy, the same way a teen might respond. I often deal with adolescents, and I know sounding proper, mannerly and old immediately disqualifies me from being at all interesting.
Passing by me, they start talking with Max, who easily engages both of them. They eventually start foraging for snacks and drinks, talking over each other with their mom or Max, and even me. All about the dramas of high school. One girl’s a freshman and the other is a sophomore. I listen to them, trying to believe they are my sisters.
Emily asks, “So are you staying for a while? I mean, that’s a long way to drive, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. I have no plans. Just, uh, you know, taking a short vacation.”
“Yeah? From what?”
“I’m a cop.” All eyes turn towards me with unmasked, avid attention.
Emily exclaims, “Really? That’s so cool.”
Melissa watches me a little closer. “Like for real?”
And Max grin
s. “Lucky you didn’t know me way back when.”
Melissa thumps the back of his head. “What? Like two summers ago? Didn’t you fight your last one just before school started?”
He laughs and shrugs. There is an easy affinity here. I can feel the positive energy in the house, and so far, it’s natural and real. The only person who seems uptight and to be acting strangely is Jessie.
“You ever shoot anyone?” Emily asks.
I swear, that’s every teenager’s first question for me. I shake my head. “No.”
“Taser?” Melissa asks in rapid succession.
I smile with indulgence. “Yes, I actually have done that.”
“So cool!” Emily hops off the bar stool. She’s suddenly more animated and talks with her hands. “Like this?” She pretends to convulse on the kitchen floor and soon has Max laughing with her. Melissa and Jessie roll their eyes. I start to answer when the front door swings open with an audible creak and Christina rushes in. Her sisters are still laughing while pretending to tase each other. Of course, I see Christina and she immediately finds me. We stare at each other from across the room. Christina isn’t smiling. She is pale and her eyes are wide and huge. God, she’s an incredibly beautiful girl. She might be one of the prettiest teens I’ve ever met. No wonder Max started dating his cousin!
She stares at me and a weird silence descends over everyone when the girls notice their older sister is home unexpectedly and acting so strange. She’s like a glacier, crawling between us, and freezing the air all around her. She steps in further, shutting the door behind her without looking at it.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Her gaze is riveted on me as if she thinks I might disappear.
I lift my hands, palms up, as if to say Who knew? “I’m here.”
We stare at each other a bit longer and then, Christina shakes her head. “I hoped, no, I prayed I’d see you again. But I never dreamed that it would be in my own living room.”
Or on a random afternoon, almost evening, on a Thursday. I know. I almost echo her sentiments. I feel the same way.
“What made you come?”
She does not spare a glance to anyone else. Not her mother. Not her boyfriend. Not her sisters. Just me. I am very important to her for some reason. I start to realize this as her gaze stays fastened on me. I can’t tell the truth of why I came, but she is visibly waiting for an explanation. I lie. “Curiosity.”
Melissa’s eyes alternate between us. She steps forward, her interest now focused on her older sister. “Who is this, Tiny? Why are you acting so weird about her coming here? Isn’t she your friend?”
Christina glances over Melissa’s head to Jessie. I can see them sharing a deep, intense look, a mental discussion, a total understanding. They are that in sync. That close. My heart thumps. Screw this! I don’t need to witness that, do I? But then again, what do I care if they are so close? What are they saying? Whatever the girls picked up on, I’m something much more serious than a friend.
“She’s not my friend,” Christina finally answers before riveting her gaze back on me. No. No way could we claim friendship. I doubt I’d let her say more than four sentences to me when we first met before I threw her out. We don’t know a damn thing about each other, except that we co–exist.
“Christina.” It’s Max’s voice behind me, low, deep and full of warning. He walks around me to her side and gently touches her lower back with his hand. “Not like this.” She doesn’t spare him a glance. All her attention remains on me. Whatever. Christina seems more hostile than I expected. I thought she’d be practically throwing her arms around me in gratitude for coming there and having us all together. My first impression of her was that she appeared pretty innocent, naive and almost bubbly in her eagerness to know me. Not so today.
She doesn’t trust me. Something must’ve tipped her off about me. I think she’s feeling protective of Jessie from me. I’m shocked; she was the one who tracked me down. Now I return the favor and she worries I’m suspiciously after them?
“You came after me,” I finally say gently. She’s just a girl. I mean, she’s maybe all of twenty and although she lives away from home, and has a boyfriend, she’s kind of a kid still. I can see her confusion and general distrust of me. I hurt her once, and she isn’t glad to see me now.
“I shouldn’t have,” she says, her tone crisp. “It wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“It wasn’t the wrong thing, either,” Jessie interjects. We both turn towards her. I’m surprised she’s participating at all. She steps forward. Her face is pale too. Christina comes over to her. Her sincere concern shines brightly in her eyes.
She touches her mom’s cheek with her fingertips. “I’m sorry.”
Jessie nods and covers her hand with her own. “I know. It’s okay. We should just do this. It’s time, Christina.”
She shakes her head back and forth. “Not without Dad. You need Dad here.”
I step back, feeling like a complete interloper. I don’t belong here. They are a happy family and my presence here can do no one any good. I don’t get Christina’s odd reaction to her mother. She’s obviously hyper–worried and extra sensitive to Jessie’s reaction to me, far more than her own. And needing the dad there? I’m beginning to think she isn’t a very strong woman.
“I don’t need Dad.” This time, Jessie’s voice is firm. She steps back and her gaze finds mine. “Why don’t you come in and sit down? All of you?”
I let the others file ahead of me into the large open room with plenty of seating. They all sit, and it’s obvious they each have their own usual spot. Jessie sits on the edge of a couch. I walk around and choose a side armchair. I keep my legs uncrossed and my hands firmly planted beneath them to avoid the temptation to fidget.
All eyes are on Jessie. I observe them looking towards her with perceptible apprehension, need and daughterly concern. Under all her daughters’ scrutiny, Jessie changes. Her spine straightens, her head tilts up, and her smile grows firmer and more confident. When they need her she comes through for them.
I wait. What is she going to say? How can she spin my odd arrival? Judging by Christina’s reaction, I’m so obviously not a welcome surprise. “You want an explanation first, or after I tell you who Natalie is?”
I’m shocked when Jessie explicitly says that, to which Melissa replies, “After.”
Jessie nods. Her eyes search mine out and she presses her lips together. “She’s your half sister. I gave birth to Natalie twenty–eight years ago.”
Her stark, unanticipated, scandalous statement plops down like a giant elephant and instantly overwhelms all of our minds.
Chapter Eight
Natalie
My mouth pops open as both of the younger teens’ heads whip towards mine, their own mouths agape. “No way,” Emily says, her eyes huge. I’m thinking the same thing. She just told them! I never expected so much honesty and for the whole story to come out this afternoon, the first and maybe only afternoon we spent together. Christina gets up and sits closer to her mom, taking her hand in her own and separating her fingers, since Jessie keeps kneading her hands together. Her nerves are quite evident. Man, those two are close.
“You’re our sister? But how? When? Oh my God! Does Dad know?”
Jessie’s smile is slight. “Dad knows. Dad’s always known.”
“Then how the crap did that happen?” Melissa asks.
Christina and Jessie exchange a glance. It’s a small nod, but I don’t miss it as Jessie again communicates something big with her oldest mini–me. “I was young and I made a lot of mistakes back then. I met someone, and we, well, things happened and I got pregnant. I met your dad after that and we decided not to keep the baby. That baby was Natalie. Christina found her last year and introduced herself.” Jessie lifts her gaze to me finally. “And Natalie’s decided to meet us now.”
“Holy shit,” Melissa mutters.
“Missy!” Jessie automatically admonishes.
Melissa
glances around. “You’re worried about my swearing? Can you think of better words to describe this? That’s some screwed–up stuff, Mom. All these years and we never knew?”
“It wasn’t an open adoption. There was really nothing to tell.”
Christina speaks up. “She did the best she could. You two certainly can’t pass judgment.”
“This is hard. I understand that. But Natalie didn’t come here to feel weird about being in our home. She just wants answers.”
“That I started,” Christina mutters. I’m still clueless why Christina so adamantly seems to have almost turned against me.
“That Christina opened up for us. It’s good she did that. I’m glad, Natalie, that you came here. So, yes, this is a very awkward and unique occasion, I still hope you girls will give each other a chance. It was my mistake. Not yours.”
“I have about a trillion q’s,” Emily finally says. Her expression is stunned shock. Narrowing her gaze, she tilts her mouth up to the side as if she’s chewing on her lip.
“I get that. Could we discuss those questions later?” Jessie says softly. I see through the subtle context. She means, when they are alone and Jessie can be fully honest. Not in front of me, the stranger.
The teen nods and finally glances at me. I have only a weary smile to offer her. I have no idea how to handle this situation. Nothing in my life prepared me for what to do with this occasion. I’m the interloper, the monkey wrench in their perfect family, and the living embodiment of their shocking family skeleton.
But I did nothing wrong. Somehow, we share bloodlines. Somehow, we are connected.
“There are four of us?” Melissa finally says. Her gaze is frankly on me now, studying me with renewed and more heightened interest than before.
Leanne Davis - Natalie (Daughters Series #2) Page 10