A Weekend Getaway

by Karen Lenfestey

  Sarah, wearing a polka-dotted apron, answered the door. “Beth! Are you all right?” She stepped aside and waved for her to come in.

  A woody, balsamic aroma filled the air. Beth suddenly felt guilty. “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt dinner?”

  Sarah took off her apron and laid it on a dining room chair. She pulled her long braid over one shoulder. “No. The rosemary chicken isn’t quite ready yet. Can I get you something to drink?”

  Beth shook her head. “No, no. I should’ve called first. It’s just that. . .Drew and I got in a fight. . .and I had to get away. Before I knew it, I ended up here. I hope that’s okay.”

  Sarah hugged her. “Of course. You’re welcome any time. No need to call first.”

  A thirteen-year-old girl with dark brown hair past her shoulders slunk into the room. Except for the attitude, she bore a strong resemblance to her mother. “I can’t find my library book.” She pushed her bangs out of her almond-shaped eyes. “Did you put it somewhere?”

  Sarah focused on her daughter. “Check the bookshelf in your room. I think I put it there when I was dusting.”

  The girl huffed and marched out of the room.

  Sarah shrugged. “Teenagers. Everything I do is wrong these days.”

  Beth looked at the floor scattered with children’s toys. It was the best kind of mess possible.

  Sarah gestured toward the stairs. “Let’s go to my room so we can talk. If we stay out here, we’ll be constantly interrupted with more obvious questions from my children.”

  Beth followed Sarah up the well-worn carpeted steps and noticed index cards taped to the walls labeling each object: light, hall, door, picture. Her youngest must be learning to read already.

  Beth sighed. Sarah’s life was the opposite of hers in every way. Sarah had put home before career, whereas Beth was just now starting to question if she’d chosen the right priorities herself. No wonder their friendship had disintegrated over the years.

  Once inside the master bedroom, Sarah set aside a half-finished knitting project so they could sit on yellow chairs which flanked the window. She curled her legs under her as if she were still in college, about to chat about boys. “What’s going on?”

  Beth took a deep breath and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Emma’s gone and Drew and I got into a fight and. . . I spoke to Hannah.”

  Sarah’s hazel eyes lit up with obvious joy. “And?”

  “She sounds like she had a good upbringing. I didn’t get a chance to tell her about. . . you know. I kind of thought maybe I could do it in person, but when I asked if she wanted to meet me. . .” Tears pricked her eyes and she took several breaths to regain control. “She said no.”

  Sarah covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I always thought that I could see her whenever I was ready. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t want to see me. All she wants is to know about her biological father.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “I think it’s because her adoptive father died. I mean, it makes sense. It just hurts.” Her chest heaved.

  “Her father died?”

  Beth nodded. “Cancer.”

  “That’s terrible.” She paused as if showing respect for the dead before proceeding. “What did you tell her about Parker?”

  “Nothing. I’m not sure if it’s my place to share where he is. When I told him, he went ballistic. He yelled for me to leave.” She swallowed. “What should I do? I really want to see her.”

  Sarah tilted her head with an empathetic expression on her face. “I thought you wanted to forget about her.”

  “I did. But everything’s different now. I keep thinking that I want my own child. If I stay with Drew that might not ever happen. So I feel compelled to at least meet Hannah. I can’t explain it.”

  “You don’t have to explain it. You’re her mother.”

  Beth sucked on her lower lip. Mother. “I know I’m not her mom, not in the way that really matters. But I want to meet her. I have to meet her. What should I do?”

  Pausing a moment, Sarah glanced out the window. “You can’t force it.” Her focus returned to Beth. “She’s a teenager, right? Well, you met mine. If you push her to do something, she’ll just dig in her heels. It’s how they are. Besides, you need to give her time to process things. She’s tracked you down, she’s lost her adoptive father, she’s on an emotional roller coaster. Be patient.”

  Beth gulped some air. Be patient. “I don’t know how.”

  “You can do it. Tell her what she wants to know. If she wants to know about Parker, tell her. Maybe if you start slowly, you can build up her trust.”

  “Okay.” She saw empathy lining her friend’s usually tranquil face. “But I feel like I can’t move forward with my life until I see my daughter alive and well.”

  Sarah nodded and pulled her knee to her chest. “Just remember, the more you push, the harder she’ll resist.”

  Beth’s cell phone rang and she hesitated when she saw Drew’s name on caller i.d. She exchanged a nervous look with Sarah before answering. “Hello?”

  His voice sounded a little tense. “I thought you’d want to know Missy brought Emma back.”

  # # #

  The little girl’s presence created a temporary truce between Beth and Drew. Funny how supervising baths and having tea parties and reading bedtime stories distracted a couple from the big issues. After work one day, Drew took Emma with him to the hardware store to pick out the paint color for her room while Beth went straight home to prepare dinner.

  As she pulled carrots out of the refrigerator, a strong rap on the front door demanded her attention. When she opened it, a short man, dressed in a brown sheriff’s uniform, looked her in the eye. The star on his chest shone in the November sunlight. “Bethany Morris?”

  Her heartbeat ramped up. She nodded, wondering what had gone wrong. Had Drew been in an accident? Was Emma all right?

  He handed her a large envelope. “You’ve been served.” He turned and briskly walked away. For a moment, she stared at the back of his balding head, convinced he had the wrong woman. The wrong Bethany Morris.

  Eventually, she shut the front door.

  Ripping open the envelope, she gave herself a vicious paper cut. She sucked her bloody thumb as she scanned the legal documents, trying to understand what they said.

  “Parker DuBois versus Bethany Morris. Summons in a Civil Action. You are hereby summoned, to appear before the court with respect to the intentional infliction of emotional distress to Parker DuBois. If you do not so appear, judgment by default will be taken against you for the relief demanded in the complaint.”

  Her heart thudded against her ribs in pure panic.

  She read the details. It sounded like Parker was suing her. For an exorbitant amount of money. Five times her annual salary. He claimed that by keeping their child away from him, she had caused him pain and suffering.

  Sweat formed on her skin as she leaned against the wall in her foyer for support. He didn’t need the money, and he certainly knew she didn’t have this much on-hand. This was pure vengeance. Did she need to get a lawyer? Was she going to lose her entire life savings and still be in debt? Would Hannah be forced to take sides?

  Parker was pissed. She’d hoped maybe he’d settled down since she told him about Hannah, but apparently not. And he had the unlimited resources to make her life hell. She needed to talk to someone who understood legal lingo. Did she know anyone who was a lawyer?

  Sucking on her bloody thumb, she scoured her memory banks.

  She only knew one person who’d passed the bar. Someone she’d kept in the dark for years. Someone she dreaded to tell.

  # # #

  The next day Beth sat in a Chicago-style pizza parlor, across from the only lawyer she knew. The scent of melting mozzarella and Italian seasonings filled the air, but the tantalizing aroma did nothing to help Beth’s mood. The meeting was guaranteed to be awkward.

  While “O Sole Mio”
played on an accordion over the stereo speakers, the attorney slid off her wool coat, shook her bob then glanced at Beth’s left hand. “When you said you wanted to see me right away, I’d thought maybe you were engaged.”

  Beth’s shoulders clenched as she picked up the menu, her paper-cut, bandaged thumb feeling big and clumsy. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mom.”

  “I just don’t understand why so many young people today choose to live together instead of getting married. Beyond the moral implications, it causes all sorts of legal problems. I see it every day in my office. Especially if they buy a house together or have children.” She stopped herself there, perhaps realizing she was treading on thin ice. She picked up her menu. “What sounds good?”

  “Whatever you want.” Not that there was anything on there that wouldn’t cause Beth to balloon up. She hated that her mom never had to worry about weight the way she did. She hadn’t wanted to dicker over the restaurant, though, when she had more critical things on her mind.

  The waitress, wearing long, dangling earrings and her black hair in a ponytail, breezed over. Beth ordered ice water and a salad while her mom ordered a Coke along with a small everything pizza. After the waitress placed the napkin-wrapped silverware on the table, Beth knew the conversation needed to get serious. Time was slipping away.

  Her mom studied her, and as if reading Beth’s thoughts said, “Well, what’s the big news?”

  Beth avoided looking at her. She didn’t want her mom to think even less of her. Over the last year, she’d sent Beth on many guilt trips about living with Drew and how it made her father look bad to his parishioners. This was even worse.

  Stalling, Beth watched as a group of office workers entered the restaurant and selected a corner booth. They wished a pudgy woman, “Happy birthday, the big 5-0” so loudly they drowned out the music.

  The waitress returned to Beth’s and her mom’s table and quickly dropped off their drinks. Beth grabbed for hers. Watching the birthday celebration to avoid eye contact, she took a long sip on the straw.

  It scared her to death to admit this to her mom. Even more so than to Drew. She figured at some point, it would be revealed to him, especially if and when he became her husband. But for sixteen years, Beth had hidden this from her parents. Telling her mom was the same as revealing it to her dad since they didn’t keep secrets from one another. Her chest suddenly felt heavy.

  Her mom cleared her throat. “Is it something bad? You look terrible. Please tell me you’re not. . .” The woman couldn’t even say the word pregnant.

  “No, Mom.” Beth rummaged in her purse and pulled out the legal documents. She handed them to her mom.

  Putting on her dime store reading glasses, her mom peered down her nose at the papers. “You’re being sued? For what? The intentional infliction of emotional distress. For what? I don’t understand.”

  Even now, Beth waited. As if a few more seconds would take the sting out of her mom’s disapproval. She lowered her voice. “I’m not pregnant, but I was once. Back in college.” She forced her gaze to meet her mother’s. Beth wanted to see her mom’s instinctive reaction.

  Her mom’s mouth fell open. “You what?”

  “My freshman year. It just kind of happened.” Would blaming alcohol help? Probably not.

  “It just kind of happened?” Her pitch and volume rose. The corner booth office workers glanced their way.

  Beth waited for the onlookers to lose interest, then leaned in. “It’s not like you ever taught me about birth control.” She regretted the words immediately, because come to find out, lashing out didn’t make her feel any better. “Anyway, I got pregnant and I wasn’t ready to have a baby. I figured the best thing to do was to put her up for adoption.”

  The sixty-year-old woman swallowed. “Her? I have a granddaughter? You’re telling me that all of these years. . . I’ve had a grandchild?”

  Beth didn’t respond. Her mom almost sounded wistful, but just like Parker, the woman wouldn’t have been so excited about the pregnancy at the time.

  Her mom pursed her thin lips. “Explain to me why Parker wants to sue you.”

  “He’s the father, but I never told him. You know he married my roommate, Ivy. The thing with him and me was just a one-night stand.” Judgment darkened her mother’s features, but Beth continued. “Recently I found out he’s sick, really sick, and isn’t going to live past middle-age. I realized I had to tell him about the baby. He was furious and now it looks like he’s trying to punish me for keeping this from him.”

  “I can’t blame him.”

  “Damn it, Mom.” She never cussed in front of her mom, but it felt right. “I’m your daughter. How about you try to be on my side for once?”

  “For once? What do you mean? I’m always on your side.”

  Beth shook her head and looked down at the checkered tablecloth.

  The papers dropped out of her mother’s hand. “Why didn’t you come to me? I would’ve helped.”

  Beth plunged her straw nervously up and down in her drink. “You were busy.”

  “Busy?” Her mom paused. “I was taking classes but. . .”

  Her mom had dealt with her empty nest by getting her bachelor’s then a law degree. That was fine, except that it meant Beth had to take out even bigger student loans to finance her own schooling. Loans she was still paying off.

  Her mom reached her age-spotted hand across the table and clasped Beth’s. “When you left for college, I thought you didn’t need me anymore. I would’ve loved that baby if only you’d given me a chance.”

  Trying to maintain her steely resolve, Beth shrugged. “Maybe. But what about dad? What about the church? The congregation? Dad values their opinions more than mine.” Her dad had stopped speaking to her ever since she’d moved in with Drew. An illegitimate child would’ve infuriated him. He probably would’ve disowned her. Not that she cared. Everything she’d done had been for her baby’s sake. And that baby deserved parents and grandparents who adored her, not resented her.

  “I can’t speak for your father. He’s more. . . rigid than I am. But a grandchild. . . that’s precious. I’ve longed for one. That’s one reason why I didn’t want you to settle for living together. It’s like pretend marriage. I wanted better than that for you.”

  The waitress’ earrings jingled as she stepped up to their table and delivered the pizza and Beth’s sad bowl of iceberg lettuce. Their conversation paused until the young woman walked away, the rubber soles of her tennis shoes squeaking slightly.

  Removing her glasses, her mom spoke in a soft tone. “So where is my granddaughter? Can I meet her?”

  Beth rubbed the knot in the back of her neck. For the first time in her life, she’d lost her appetite. “She lives in Texas. And you can’t meet her because I haven’t even met her. I mean, I want to, but she doesn’t feel the same.” As usual, she stifled her emotions.

  “How do you know she doesn’t want to see you?”

  “Because I asked. She wants to meet Parker, but not me. I assume she wants to meet him. She asked about him.”

  “So she and Parker have connected?”

  “No. I told him about her, but he doesn’t know any details about how to find her. Now that he’s served me with papers, I’m not sure what to do. It’s not like him to be so vindictive.”

  “You denied him his own child.”

  “Mom, maybe I shouldn’t have. I don’t know. I thought I was doing him a favor.”

  “You should’ve thought about his point of view. My point of view. My only grandchild is in Texas.”

  “This isn’t about you.” Her words were sharp. Involving her mother might’ve been a mistake. “This needs to be about me. Can you help or what?”

  Her mom furrowed her brow. “You have thirty days to respond to the charges. I’ll handle that. What I need from you is to know if you admit or deny the allegation.”

  Beth flinched. She’d never thought of herself as the one doing wrong. She’d always felt like the victim i
n this. She’d been the one who’d been alone throughout her pregnancy and in the delivery room. Except for her friend Sarah, she’d had to carry the burden of choosing adoptive parents and then following through with giving them her baby. Even then, she’d felt alone. No one could understand what she’d gone through. What she was still going through.

  Her own daughter didn’t want to see her and now Parker was suing her. Clearly, Beth was the victim here. She squeezed a slice of lemon into her water. “I deny all responsibility.”

  When Beth got home, she sent an e-mail to her daughter.

  To: Hannahbanana@gmail.com

  From: Bethany@yahoo.com

  You asked about your biological father. His name is Parker DuBois and this is his phone number: 219-555-6800. He never knew about you.

  If you’d like to talk again on the phone, please call me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Parker rang the bell of the adobe house and shoved his still-twitching hands in his pockets. Adrenaline pulsed through his system as he anticipated meeting his daughter for the first time. Unable to stand still, his feet shuffled side to side.

  Hurry up, hurry up! He’d flown to Dallas as soon as he could book a flight. Hannah had called him and he came. He couldn’t possibly wait one minute longer!

  A moment later, a teenaged girl opened the door. Brown hair, brown eyes, a perky nose—she looked a little like Bethany and a little like pictures he’d seen of his mom when she was young. He bit the inside of his mouth to stop the flood of emotion.

  Dressed in denim shorts and an Olympic T-shirt, she smiled hesitantly, revealing silver braces. “Parker?”

  Staring at her fresh face, he nodded. Should he hug her? Part of him wanted to, yet they’d just met. That would be awkward.

  She opened the door wide, then waved him inside where Taylor Swift’s “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together” echoed down the hall. Instinct kicked in and he offered a handshake. The scrunched-up look on Hannah’s face and her limp wrist let him know that he’d done the wrong thing. Damn!