But a girlfriend I can call and say, Hey, I can’t have kids to. Or Sam was having sex with a girl right in front of my eyes? No. There is no one to whom I can utter those words.
Yet here is a woman asking me. Someone who knows nothing about me. Someone I could tell my point of view to, and maybe release some of this awful pressure building in my chest and shredding my heart. I threatened Sam when I said we were done. When this week ended, we were forever done. But scarier still? Sam said something entirely too similar last night. I think I’m reeling even more this morning because it truly never occurred to me that Sam would be the one with the power to say those things. I thought I held the power between us now, but hearing him speak like he did last night nauseates me and makes my head ache. It might not just be lip service or rage, but the ugly reality that my marriage to Sam is over. The sad part, and yes, the biggest surprise is, I don’t know how I feel about that.
“I can’t have kids.”
I whip my eyes up to Jessie, shocking myself that I said anything, and even worse, shocked about the subject I chose to tell her. I intended to say, Sam cheated on me and that’s what spurred this crazy trip, out of nowhere, to meet you all, never mind staying on to see if I liked them.
Jessie leans back against the counter as if my news physically pushes her. “Oh, Natalie, I’m sorry.”
I straighten up. “Are you? Why? Why do people automatically think that means there is something wrong with me and I must feel like crap? It doesn’t make me less of a woman, or less of a person. It doesn’t mean the purpose of my life is over. I have a thriving job that contributes far more than most people do to my surrounding community. I have a lot to offer, even if I can’t help overpopulate this already overcrowded planet.”
Jessie’s eyebrows rise and her lips turn up just enough to suggest a smile. “O-kay then. I agree; it doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you, but since you told me after tearing up out of nowhere, perhaps it’s an issue for you. Not to mention that your voice rose about three octaves higher when you said it.”
I wilt and back up to lean on the opposite counter. “I’ve known for over a year.”
“Are you at all angry and wondering why I could so accidentally have given birth to you, because you and Sam can’t do the same thing?”
I hold her gaze. Her eyebrows are again raised. She isn’t challenging me, her voice is kind and honest. She’s opening up so I can say something to her. “The thought did cross my mind.”
Jessie nods. “I can’t answer that. Life isn’t fair, and it rarely makes sense. I know, however, you already know that. I agree with you; it’s shitty luck, these circumstances. I can get pregnant almost the first month I try to; and all it takes is one time when I’m not even trying. So if you’re angry at me for that, I get it. It’s fine. I think you can fairly add that to your list of reasons to resent me. I have to give it to you though, you don’t transfer your resentment onto the girls. The younger two think you’re awesome. A hero, really. They don’t know any other woman cop, or a woman who is as capable, strong and confident in her toughness as you are. They were awed by your sportsmanship. They said you could challenge any man out there.”
That little, gossipy tidbit lifts something in my chest. It’s nice to hear. I’ve never had anyone look up to me before. Hearing that these little girls do is pretty amazing to me. “Not one thing about you, this place, or your daughters is what I could have anticipated.”
“I know.” Jessie and I eye each other. There is a strange undercurrent between us. We can’t quite reach friendly, and we don’t fully connect, yet there is a streak of honesty that, I have to say, doesn’t exist with anyone else. “Can I ask what your childhood was like? Was it something that makes you consider adoption a terrible alternative? I don’t have the right to ask, or even know, but I guess I am anyway. I want to know. It’s the first thing I wanted to ask you. Are you okay? It’s maybe none of my business and you can certainly tell me to go to hell, but here I am… asking.”
I clear my throat, and consider her request. No, she really doesn’t deserve the reassurance I can almost guarantee she is seeking. She wants me to tell her about my happy childhood to alleviate her guilt. Four days ago, I probably would have told her to screw off. Now? My perspective and overall compassion towards another, even this woman, has matured and blossomed in a way that probably never before happened in my adulthood. I sag against the counter. “My parents were an older couple who could not have kids. Ironic, huh? I have the same affliction, yet we share no genes. They married late in life and adopted me. They were hardworking, honest, rigid, and caring, and I was their only child. We didn’t share the level of money and possessions and the nice home you have here. We lived in a modest, two–bedroom apartment in a generic, kind of ugly block building. But I didn’t know any better. I was never bitter about it. I had everything I needed, and I fully understood when I couldn’t have all the stuff I wanted. They taught me about hard work, discipline, setting goals and having the tenacity to strive for them. They loved me too; I never once doubted that. Even if they weren’t terribly demonstrative, or said it very often, I always knew. So, no, in answer to your question, they did nothing except show me how people should treat a child who was not theirs.”
“But that isn’t something you and Sam want?”
“Sam might. I don’t. I grew up feeling there was something missing from me, or my life. There was something I wanted to know. I doubt if I want to go through that again.”
“But that understanding might make you the perfect candidate. You get it. You could be sensitive to it, and maybe more than most mothers, help a child deal with it.”
I shrug. “I haven’t seriously considered that.”
“But somehow, I get the feeling Sam has.”
I can’t find the strength to hide it, or pretend otherwise. “Yes. But I don’t think I understood how much he did until now.”
“Were you fighting? Is that what propelled you to come here?”
I stare at her and she stares as intently back at me. “Why should I be honest with you? About private stuff?”
Jessie throws her hands up. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know why you would, or what I could say to convince you to, I just know that I do want you to.”
“What actually propelled me to come here was, I pretty much freaked the fuck out after I walked into his office and saw him having sex with another woman on his desk. That’s what made me rush out of town. I was escaping that. He somehow figured out where the hell I was headed and because I didn’t want you all to know about it, he used that ploy to stay here.”
I let out a rush of breath after my litany of words. I have to unclench my fists. I can’t believe I just told her all that. I raise my hands to rub my tired eyes. The thing is, stress and exhaustion have made me lose my mind. Why would I tell her that stuff? I just can’t begin to explain it.
“But the worst of it is, he has an excuse for it. He said I didn’t even listen to his concerns about not being able to conceive a baby. And since I would not listen to him, he felt shut out. Like he was living with a stranger who wouldn’t let him speak, which made him resent me. Of course, he claims he didn’t intend to sleep with the woman; but in ways he never realized until now, he did that to punish me because he was so angry. And crazier still? He’s right! Not about doing it. But I didn’t let him talk about it to me. I didn’t consult with him. I acted as if it was all my problem and not half his. I just didn’t see it…”
“Until now, when it smacks you right in the face. I get it. When I was young, my God, I could not compromise, or talk, or even remotely tell Will what was wrong. I get that.”
“I’ll bet Will never cheated on you.”
“No. Will never cheated on me.”
“Did you ever cheat on him?” I ask bluntly.
She hesitates for just a moment. “No. Not since we fell in love. Since we’ve been in love, I’m not sure I’ve even noticed another man in that way. But the
way we started, there was definitely a time when I tried.”
“I thought it was that way for us. But I sense there is more to your statement, like there is something you’re not saying. Is there?”
She nods and purses her lips. “Yes. You are intuitive. Comes in handy, I guess, for being a cop. Will and my relationship is pretty complicated. Especially at the start.”
“You seem so perfect.”
She snorts. “Our beginning was anything but.”
“Because of me?”
She shakes her head. “No, actually, it wasn’t because of you. I was immature and scared; and well, my father was a general in the Army, which further complicated matters in my life. He wasn’t a nice man. Will married me the first time just to get me away from him. At that point, it was a marriage in name only.”
I straighten up as I listen, totally rapt, to Jessie. I never expect this twist to their story. Not at all. From what I’ve witnessed, they are a loving, respectful, almost youthful–acting couple who manage their lives and parenting with fun, work, hobbies, honesty and love.
“We eventually fell in love and got married for real… Then we went on to have a family and got good jobs. But years ago? I was not destined for this at all.”
“I never dreamed Sam and I were destined for where we are today.”
Jessie’s face contorts in sympathy. It’s not faked either. “Marriage is hard and long and it is so easy to take each other for granted and not even know you are. But it doesn’t mean it’s over. One mistake might just be what makes you try to make the changes you wouldn’t have made otherwise. It’s easy to walk away, Natalie. It’s a lot harder to stay and make it work. Especially when you have such polarized views on a very important topic.”
“How can we compromise about kids? You either want them, or you don’t.”
“True. But you have different circumstances. You have to go to a lot of effort to have a child in your life. Maybe you can’t compromise, but you can hear each other, and care about each other’s opinions and thoughts, even if you don’t change yours. My experience? Communication can’t just be a pretty buzz word. It has to happen for real. It requires two people who mutually choose to be uncomfortable until they find a solution they both can live with. If it turns into anger, resentment, bitterness… all those things only lead a person to feeling completely alone, even though their spouse is right there.”
“You’re saying, I caused him to seek someone else?”
Jessie’s mouth puckers and her eyebrows draw together. “Oh, hell no. No, he doesn’t get a pass because you two had problems. He doesn’t get to have an excuse. His behavior is still his. His choices are still his own. I don’t know what I’d do if Will ever cheated on me. Lose my mind a bit, yeah. But would I let that decide whether or not to lose him? I can’t honestly say. But that’s me. I don’t know you and Sam. No one can tell you what to do with your marriage. I just know it’s hard, complicated and never as obvious as anyone thinks.”
“What does it say about us when the first real hard choices and decisions we encounter make us end up here? Like this?”
“Is he a womanizer? I mean, is it something that he does often? Or has he done it before?”
“No!” I say as surely as I do my name when being introduced to people. I know, even now, that Sam is not a player. Sam did that, but I know it was not done lightly, and he’s not blowing smoke up my ass in fake apologies, or promises never to do it again. In all honesty? I pretty much believe he won’t do it again. I physically see his distress, horror and guilt. He doesn’t like to feel like a failure and this makes him one in his eyes.
“Then you have to decide what you want. You have to decide to trust him again, and determine how much love is left.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Somehow, I believe you.” We share a long look across her kitchen. It makes me feel uneasy. We’re no closer to crossing that distance and hugging in bonded, mother–daughter understanding, but there is something real here. It is something very much like my own mother would have done in this situation. That startles me as I think it, but my mother might easily have reacted like Jessie did about Sam if she was the one I had consulted. I shrink back as I realize I’m talking to Jessie, my pseudo–mother, because I just want my own mom to tell me what to do. To guide me and help me. I’m desperate for her advice. And now I’ve unloaded my burden on a near stranger just because she asked. Because she’s a motherly figure to me. I regret the words that spewed from my mouth. I’m usually so circumspect with my feelings. I can’t believe I’ve just let so much out of me.
“I’m not looking for a new mother. I lost mine. She died of cancer when I was twenty. There will never be another mother for me,” I add when the guilt over comparing my two mothers fills my head.
She nods. “I’m very sorry about that. And I don’t expect anything from you.”
Emily comes out and we both turn towards her. We both greet her. I swear I can hear the relief in both of our voices at having a buffer between us in this strange, intense, amazing conversation, and the oddly strong feelings that surround us like an aura.
“Hey, Natalie, wanna go exploring with me and Missy today?”
I smile at her. She is still so shy with me. I swear I can see her chest rise and fall in a deep breaths as she musters the nerve to speak to me. I try to keep my tone easy and encouraging with her, so she feels like she can talk to me. Melissa comes with us and we spend the day going to the Columbia River. We take something called the Old Vantage Highway, which looks impossible to find unless someone is familiar with the area. It goes through a stunning, desert–like landscape of basalt bluffs that tower over the Columbia River. The road physically disappears under the Columbia River. Weird thing to see. Of course, it’s blocked off, but it is kind of a cool thing to witness. The pavement literally vanishes under the water. A new bridge and the I–90 now replace the old road. We explore some of the Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park, regarded as one of the most unusual fossil forests in the world. In the middle of nowhere, I learn something new about the world. And I never experienced a landscape like that. It’s all carved rock, remnants from some long-ago ice age.
Later, we buy sandwiches and pop at the gas station by the Vantage Bridge and go to the state park just down the road, where we watch the dramatic sunset over the tranquil Columbia River. The darkening hills turn black against the stunning colors of the sunset. We are at ease and the conversations are real. The two girls talk about everything from their friends at school to more intimate descriptions of their experiences growing up as Will and Jessie’s daughters.
The next day, Christina joins us to go hiking along Taneum Creek. It’s a five–mile hike through thick woods. We see a scattering of elk, which I never witnessed in the wild, and it lifts my spirits. I finally feel like smiling after all the stress of the last few days. Emily is an avid hiker and five miles is nothing to her. Missy is breathing hard and complains at the last of it. She and her dad often ride motorcycles around there, she tells me, and she just doesn’t see any reason for hiking when a motorcycle can do all the hard work. Emily shoots back with an argument about the disturbance to the wildlife and the way it cuts up the area… on and on, they bicker. They constantly go at each other or call each other names, and sometimes, it makes my heart ping. You can only be so mean and annoying to a sibling you love. But the minute anyone else intrudes or bothers one of them, they instantly have each other’s back. There is something pure about their rivalry, their annoyance, and their love of each other. Each day we are together, there is something real growing between us. There is a presence to us now. We share a few laughs and jokes now and I know something is building here. I can feel it.
I do not know what to do with my marriage. But somehow, these strangers, these sisters of mine, manage to make me feel a little better today.
Chapter Fourteen
Sam
I avoid being alo
ne with Natalie for the next few days. We hang around inside the Hendrickses’ home with her “family.” It is completely surreal. There we are in the middle of nowhere in a strange state with a strange family, and yet she fits in. She and her sisters, especially the younger two, spend a lot of time going off together, exploring the area. There isn’t much in terms of culture. There are more natural things. They go driving and hiking and Natalie gets quite animated about the elk, the wildlife and the history around the Columbia River. I don’t go along very often, despite how hard the girls try to persuade me to come. I wave them off and willingly give Natalie more time with them. I spend a lot of my time wandering around their farm. I talk to Will a lot. He is an interesting guy, with plenty of war stories to tell. We spend a lot of time just talking. He is into motorcycles, something I’ve never done before. I grew up in the middle of a city and never moved away from it. He is pretty amused about that and gives me a lot of shit. Enough that I finally try it. I nearly crash at the first little rock I ride over, but I keep at it until I am zooming around their track. I use a lot more caution and have a lot less speed than Will, but at least, I am doing it.
We are invited to go with the Hendrickses to the local fair, which is in town for the weekend. They set it up in the park we played softball in. There are small carnival rides, game booths and prizes, as well as overpriced stuffed animals. Emily asks if we can go in her shy, endearing way when Natalie and I are both sitting at their table, eating breakfast. We are across from each other, trying to maintain the illusion that we’re together. I glance her way, but she doesn’t look at me. She smiles at Emily with a warmth I haven’t seen directed at me in months, and agrees, saying we’d like to go. Sure, we’d love to go. So I guess I’d love to since this is why I’m here: to substantiate the façade that Natalie is happily married. And to be there, at least in theory, for her.
So that’s how I end up at a country fair for a rip roaring Friday night “out” in Ellensburg. I am watching a dessert contest. People actually enter their own kitchen creations and compete for first, second and third place prizes. There is even a large crowd amassing around the results. It is hard to keep my smirk in check. I can’t help feeling amused at all this really small-town stuff. There is the usual farmer’s market, featuring organic, locally grown produce, as well as local artists showing their wares. There are small-time local authors too, with their printed books for sale, along with several artists’ paintings and ceramics displayed. Emily and Melissa squeal in delight over the handmade scarves and each girl purchases one, even convincing Natalie to get a matching one. They all wear them together. She hems and haws, rolling her eyes as if they are forcing her, but I notice the genuine interest in her eyes. She is not only appeasing them, but also becoming a part of them.
Leanne Davis - Natalie (Daughters Series #2) Page 19