by Terri Osburn
Once my anger at Geraldine subsided, I expected a serious adrenaline crash from all this, and then reality would set in. I was no longer an only child.
Monday morning, I went into work, ready to ask Cassie if we could talk. She didn’t typically come in until the afternoon, so I had plenty of time to stress before then.
“There you are,” said Jeffrey, making a rare appearance at the front desk. “How far are you on the programming report?”
“I’m still working on it, but you’ll have it Wednesday as requested.”
His thin lips settled into a flat line as he shook his head. “I’m going to need it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“The meeting with the consultant has been moved up a day. I want time to review it so I’ll need the report as soon as you can get it to me.” He leaned his hands on the counter and a whiff of tobacco flooded my senses. On instinct, I rolled my chair backwards. “You know Pamela Abrams is retiring, right?”
Pamela was practically an institution in the library system and had been a staple at the main branch for longer than I’d been alive. Of course I’d heard about her retirement.
“Yes, but not for a few more weeks.”
“They’re holding interviews for her replacement on Thursday as well, and I said you’d sit in on them.”
“Me?” This was quite a surprising development. “I’ve never taken part in the interview process before.”
Jeffrey straightened. “They wanted someone low level used to working with the public, and you fit the description.”
Low level. That’ll make a girl feel important. “What time on Thursday and where?”
“At the main branch at ten a.m.”
I opened the calendar on my computer and entered the information. “I’ll be there.”
With two taps on the counter, he said, “Get cracking on that report. The sooner I get it the better.”
There were only a few hours left in my day, and I had softball practice tonight so I couldn’t work over. I’d just have to take the files home and work into the night to get it done. “You’ll have it in the morning,” I assured him.
As he walked away, I scanned the library for Cassie. She’d been coming in around that time, but she wasn’t at her regular table.
“Have you seen Cassie today?” I asked Miriam.
She looked up from her computer and blinked before looking in the same direction I had. “No, I haven’t. She’ll probably come in soon. Did you find some information for her?”
Did I ever. “I have a bit of a lead, yes.”
“She’ll be so excited. I tried to help her last week, but it’s as if her mother never existed before Cassie was born.” She tucked a pen behind her ear before reaching for a stack of books to her left. “I suggested that maybe her mother never actually lived in Pittsburgh, but Cassie is sure of it.”
Curious, I said, “Do you remember her mother’s name?”
Eyes lifted to the ceiling in thought, Miriam said, “Penbrook. Pendergrass. Something like that. Genevieve or Geraldine is the first name, I think.”
“Not O’Malley?”
“No, she says her mother’s ex-husband adopted her when she was young, but when they divorced, her mom took her maiden name back.”
A plausible explanation. I wondered why Cassie was so convinced that her mother had lived in Pittsburgh. Geraldine had gone from Uniontown, an hour south of the city, straight to California as far as I knew. Or had she stayed in Pittsburgh for a while first? I’d only been seven so the time was a blur in my memory, and no doubt many details weren’t shared with me at all. Maybe she’d worked here until she’d earned the money to get out west.
I wished I could remember where the few birthday cards had come from, but as a child, I wouldn’t have understood postmarks. I just remember hearing about this distant place far, far away that could have been on another planet for all I knew. During the first few years after she left, there had been comments made that maybe someday I’d get to go visit her. Then the cards stopped coming, Dad stopped talking about her, and I did the same. We got so busy taking care of each other that she been relegated to this mysterious person who’d once lived with us.
Dad had been stressed in those early days. Even at a young age, I could tell that much. I never wanted to make things worse, and saying her name had been enough to change his mood. Not that he got angry or ever snapped at me. Just a shift to what I interpreted as sadness. I learned to keep my questions and my hopes to myself. By twelve or thirteen I’d given up on her ever coming back. That’s probably when the anger started.
Anger that never went away.
For the rest of the afternoon, I worked on the report while keeping an eye out for Cassie. She never did come in, which had me worried. Last week she’d said she wasn’t ready to give up, but what if she’d changed her mind? I had no idea how to find her. For all I knew, she was already back in California and Geraldine got her wish.
What would I do then? Was I supposed to go back to my life and forget that I had siblings who knew nothing about me? That didn’t feel right, but I wasn’t the only person affected by all this. Learning the truth would change their lives far more than mine. I knew the real Geraldine. The woman who willingly erased a child from her life. They had no idea.
With files stacked on my passenger seat, I headed to practice with a knot in my stomach. Between family revelations and trying to date again, my life was one giant ball of uncertainty, and I did not like it. What I wouldn’t give to have my boring life back.
Chapter Fourteen
Never had softball felt less important in my life. As I carried my gear bag across the field, all I wanted to do was go home and hide.
My brain had raced throughout the drive to practice. A stream of endless questions. What would I tell Cassie? What would I tell Dad? Was this really the time to start dating? Even the programs at work didn’t feel all that important anymore. Less than two weeks ago, I completely understood my life. I knew who my family was. I knew who I was.
Today, I knew none of those things.
“Hey there,” said Dalton as I reached the bench. “Want to warm up?”
With little enthusiasm, I said, “Okay.” We made our way onto the dirt, spreading out between third and home. My mind was still elsewhere and I ended up throwing the ball over his head three times before deciding to put him out of his misery. “I’m not feeling great today. Why don’t you find another warm-up partner?”
“No problem,” he said, putting up no fight at all. Not that I blamed him.
I took a seat on the bench and stared at my toes. That’s how Ryan found me.
“Are you okay?” he said.
Lifting my eyes, I tried to offer a smile in greeting but my heart wasn’t in it. Since he knew at least part of what was going on, I didn’t bother lying.
“Not really, no. Sorry about the other night. You should have woken me up.”
He took a seat beside me. “I tried, but you were out.”
“The allergy medicine does that. Sorry.”
He bumped me with his shoulder. “Stop apologizing. You’re good. I’m guessing that look on your face is because of the letter?”
Nodding, I tapped my glove against my thigh. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Who would? That was a big revelation. Did you see the girl today?”
“No, she never came in. What if she never does? I don’t even know how to find her.”
“You have an address for your mom. I’m guessing that isn’t where you want to start, but it’s something.”
True. Would I go through Geraldine to reach these siblings? I doubted she’d be much help considering her request.
I sighed. “I almost wish I’d never opened that letter.”
Ryan squeezed my empty hand. “I know it feels like a lot right now, but some good can still come out of this. She might be happy to find you. I bet you’d be a really cool older sister.”
What a crazy though
t. “When I was little, I wanted a younger brother or sister. Who’d have believed that at thirty years old I’d get one of each?”
“Life can throw us curveballs like that.” He rose off the bench and pulled me to my feet. “I’m always here to talk if you need me.”
Before I could answer, a ball bounced off the bucket a couple of feet away. Wondering where it had come from, I looked around and found Fletcher standing near third base watching us with narrowed eyes.
Anger flaring, I said, “Did you throw that?”
Without answering, he sulked off toward first base at the same time that Coach Barry called for us to take the field.
“What is wrong with him?” I mumbled.
Ryan punched the center of his glove. “You know the answer to that. He’s probably going to sulk for the rest of the season.”
“Sulking is one thing, but that ball could have hit either one of us.”
“I doubt he’d go that far. Come on, let’s hit the field.”
We jogged to our positions and I shot Fletcher a warning look before turning around to face the plate. I had enough to deal with this week. I did not need his childish antics added to the list. He didn’t want to date me, but he didn’t want me to date someone else. He wanted to be friends, but friends didn’t go out of their way to make the other person feel like a schmuck.
“Be ready now,” Coach said. “Here we go.”
Infield practice went on for the next fifteen minutes, until we switched to batting practice. Coach Barry called Dalton in to hit first, and as we waited for him to come in from the outfield, I propped my glove on my hip and thought about what Ryan had said about me being an older sister. I’d been so focused on how to tell Cassie the truth, I hadn’t thought about what would come next. Would she want a relationship with me? Would we spend time together? Get to know each other? There was so much unknown, but from the talk we’d had the week before, I felt confident that she’d want me in her life in some way.
I was still lost in the possibilities when I heard the smack of the bat against the ball, but my reflexes weren’t quick enough to get my glove down in time. The line drive pegged off my right shin, and the pain was instantaneous. With a scream, I hit the ground, grabbing my leg—which felt like it had been shot. Rolling in pain, I closed my eyes and felt the sting of tears behind my eyelids.
Fletcher hit the dirt beside me. “Holy shit, Megan, are you okay?”
If I could speak, I’d have told him what a stupid question that was.
“Get her some ice,” I heard Coach say. “Megan, I need you to breathe.” That felt like too much to ask at the moment. Someone lifted my shoulders and propped me against them so that I was half sitting up. “Let me see,” Coach said, trying to pry my hand loose. “Come on now. Let me have a look.”
I wasn’t trying to keep him from seeing the injury. I just couldn’t unclench my hand. Nor could I take a full breath.
“I can’t,” I managed to whisper. “Oh my God, it hurts.”
“In through your nose,” said a voice in my ear, and I realized Ryan was the one behind me. “You can do it, Megan. We’ll do it together. In through your nose.” Focusing on his voice, I managed to let go of my leg while taking in air. “That’s good,” he said. “Now blow it out.”
Coach straightened my leg and I managed to open my eyes. “Is it broken?” I asked in a shaky voice.
“I don’t think so, but we definitely need to get ice on it.” Snapping his fingers, he said, “Let’s get her off the ground.”
Ryan shifted and the next thing I knew I was being carried off the field. Coach kept hold of my leg and as soon as they set me down on the bench, Roxanne set a towel full of ice gently on my shin.
“Is that okay?” she said.
I nodded, since speaking was still difficult.
Coach sat down and draped my leg over his thigh. “I’m guessing a bone bruise,” he said, lifting the ice and delicately testing the skin, which was quickly turning purple. “The ice will keep the swelling down, but there isn’t much else you can do for this type of injury.”
A bone bruise? I’d never even heard of that before. “Will I be able to play on Friday?”
“That’s hard to tell. You need to wait and see how deep the bruising will go.”
I leaned back against the dugout wall while pain vibrated up my leg. Just freaking great. Because I needed one more thing to go wrong right now.
“Everyone back on the field,” he said, rising to his feet and carefully lowering my leg onto the bench. “If you can’t bend the ankle without pain when it’s time to go, we’ll have someone get you home.”
I hadn’t even thought about driving. I wasn’t about to leave my car here overnight, so I’d just have to suck it up and deal. As the team returned to practice, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on anything but the pain.
“I’m really sorry,” said a deep voice.
Opening my eyes, I found Dalton hovering over me, brows drawn together and a look of true concern in his eyes.
“This isn’t your fault. I should have been paying attention.”
“I’m the one who hit the ball.”
“And I’m the one who didn’t react fast enough. Really, Dalton, you don’t need to apologize.”
He didn’t look convinced. “If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll get you more ice or drive you home. Whatever you need.”
I appreciated the offer, though I had no intention of taking him up on any of it. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
As Dalton walked off, bat in hand, I leaned forward and lifted the ice. Purple and yellow now. Lovely.
Just freaking lovely.
Practice continued as I sat on the bench, lamenting my idiot ways and wondering how my life had strayed so far from the norm. Where did my quiet, uneventful days go? And how did I get them back? As if Mother Nature decided to match my mood, the skies turned gray and thunder rolled in the distance. The threat was far enough off for practice to continue, but everyone kept an eye out for the first sign of lightning.
Wallowing in self-pity, I was surprised when a pooch rounded the corner of the dugout and hopped into my lap. I caught her weight on my stomach and quickly grabbed hold to make sure the animal didn’t bounce onto my injured leg.
With big black eyes and a lulling tongue, she was white and strong and had a dark patch around her right eye. I assumed the she part based on the pink collar with a bow on it. Her owner followed seconds later. A woman not much taller than I was, with long curly hair, glasses, and a friendly smile. I assumed she was the significant other to one of my fellow players.
“I’m so sorry. She’s usually better behaved than this.” The woman lifted the dog’s front legs back to the ground. Spotting my ice pack, she said, “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”
“Oh, no. She didn’t hit my leg.” Scratching behind the dog’s ear, I asked, “What’s her name.”
The stranger sat down. “This is Wendy, though I’m convinced he should have named her Chaos.”
Wendy? Ryan’s Wendy? But then who was the woman at the other end of the leash?
“She’s cute,” I said. “Boxer?”
She rolled her eyes. “Through and through. Goofy, clumsy, and a farting machine.” As if remembering her manners, she said, “I’m Rachel, by the way. Ryan’s sister.”
His sister. My gut unclenched at the news. “Nice to meet you. I’m Megan.”
Blue eyes went wide. “You’re the Megan?”
I was pretty sure there were many more famous Megans than I. “Maybe?” I said. “I am friends with your brother, if that’s the Megan you mean.”
“Oh my gosh. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re the reason I’m here.”
“Me?”
“He wanted me to come meet you.”
That seemed like a big move after only one date. “You came all the way from Akron to meet me?”
She laughed and the glasses slid down her nose. “No, I was already coming t
o town for the week, but he wanted me to come by the practice to meet you while I’m here. I know you haven’t been going out for long so don’t let this scare you.” Cutting a quick glance her brother’s way, she added, “He just really likes you, and he said we have a lot in common.”
She had no idea how much. “You just finished college, right?”
“My master’s, yeah. That’s why I’m in town.”
Before I could ask another question, thunder rocked the dugout and seconds later, a bolt of lightning cut across the clouds.
“Everybody off the field!” yelled Coach Barry as Wendy tried to crawl into Rachel’s lap.
“You’re okay, girl.” To me the young woman said, “She’s scared to death of loud noises.”
As the team gathered and equipment was hurriedly packed away, Ryan joined us in the dugout. Wendy squirmed with excitement, bending in half until her nubby little tail nearly touched her nose.
“Hey, girl. I’m happy to see you, too. How’s your leg?” he asked me.
“Not thumping as much as it was.” I moved the wet towel onto the bench and set both feet on the ground. “I need to pack up.”
“I’ll get it.” Before I could stop him, Ryan bolted off to get my bag. Moments later, he had all my equipment inside, the bag zipped shut and leaning against the bench beside me. “Let me get my stuff together, and then we’ll get you to your car.”
“Ryan, I’m fine.”
He looked down at the bruise spreading up my shin. “That doesn’t look fine to me.”
Determined, I flexed my ankle up and down. Pain shot along the top of my foot, but I managed to swallow the whimper. “See? Everything works.”
“You should probably know now that he’s the protective type,” Rachel said, earning a hard glare from her brother. “What? It’s true.”
Thunder roared again, and Wendy howled her displeasure before cowering beneath the bench.
“We need to get her out of here,” Ryan said.
“I’ll take her to the car and wait for you there. Maybe I can turn on some music to calm her down.” Rachel got to her feet at the same time heavy raindrops started dotting the dirt. “Come on, girl. We’ve gotta make a run for it.”