by Jamie Hill
Gigi opened the door and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Grandma and Grandpa!" she moaned softly. "Only they're really not."
"Of course they are. Don't be ridiculous. Now dry your eyes and get back out there for your brother. We need to have cake and presents."
Gigi grabbed her arm. "Do they know? Grandma and Grandpa…do they know about me?"
Natalie didn't know how to answer. Of course they knew, but they'd been sworn to secrecy. Does Gigi need to know that? Wouldn't that be just one more thing to deal with? She needed to talk to Alex. "Gigi, now is not the time for this discussion. Stay after your brothers are gone, and you can talk with me and Dad some more."
"I'm not sure I want to."
"Tough. Now plaster a smile on your face and come on." Natalie returned to the dining room. "Who's ready for cake?"
They had cake, ice cream and presents. The first chance Natalie got, she dragged Alex into the kitchen. "Gigi's curious if Grandma and Grandpa know."
"Oh, Jesus." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Do we really have to get into all that?"
"I'd rather not. I don't want her asking anybody questions other than you or me." They looked at each other for a moment. Natalie realized they both had the same thought at the same time.
"Then you'd better call your sister and fill her in. You know how close Gigi is to Aunt Dean, and you know how straightforward Nadine is about everything. If Gigi asks her a question, Dean won't lie."
Natalie rubbed her eyes and nodded. She was suddenly very tired.
"You'd better call Dean tonight, after we're gone."
She looked at him. "You're leaving again?"
Alex sighed. "Nat, I told you what happened today didn't change anything."
"I know what you told me," she snapped. "But you've told me a lot of things over the years, you son-of-a-bitch."
* * * *
The family spent the afternoon lounging around watching football and fiddling with Matt's new iPod. Alex thought it would normally have been a pretty relaxing day, but today there was an undercurrent of tension running through the room. He was amazed the boys didn't pick up on it. They were as comfortable and relaxed as ever. He made an effort to talk, as did Nat. Only Gigi didn't say much, but she was there, and that was a start.
Jake was in heaven, unsure about whose feet he should be lying next to since all his kids were home again. He made his rounds in the family room, soaking up attention from whomever he could.
"Hey, Mom," Dave called from the sofa. "I thought of a couple CDs to add to my Christmas list."
"Write them down," Natalie replied, leafing through a catalog.
"Better be something she can order online," Matt told his brother.
"Or from a catalog," Dave agreed, grinning.
Gigi looked up from her magazine. "That's right, our mother, the Queen of Ordering In. Anything to keep her from actually having to set foot in a store around Christmas time."
Gigi didn't have trouble chiming in when the teasing was aimed at her mother, Alex thought wryly.
Natalie didn't look up from her catalog. "I've done all right by you guys at Christmas—don't try to tell me I haven't."
"There was that one year we all got t-shirts from that weird catalog." Dave laughed, remembering. "Mine said, 'Who are you and why are you reading my t-shirt?'"
Matt laughed with him. "Mine said, 'Obey gravity, it's the law'. Those were so lame, mom."
Natalie chuckled. "Actually, I liked them. There were so many I wanted to order for myself. 'Life's too short to cook for you people' or "Some days, it's not even worth chewing through the restraints.'"
Alex grinned at that one. He'd got a lame t-shirt that year, too. He couldn't even remember what it had said. But Natalie had done all right by the family at Christmas, all things considered. He was proud of her. Whenever there was something that had to be purchased locally, he did it. That was about the extent of the help he provided her.
"Seriously, Mother, my friends think it's totally strange that you do all your shopping online." Gigi gave her mother an irritated look, as if it really mattered somehow.
Natalie continued to flip the pages of her catalog without looking up. "I tell you every year—I don't like crowds."
Gigi frowned. "You didn't seem to mind the crowds when Daddy took you to the Toby Keith concert."
Natalie raised her eyes over her catalog at Alex. Gigi let the word 'Daddy' roll off her tongue without hesitating over it. Alex had noticed it, and he smiled back at his wife.
She gave Gigi an exaggerated wink. "Well, that was Toby Keith."
Alex chuckled, and Matt shook his head. "He's such a traitor. Did you know he stood on the Oklahoma sidelines when K-State played them for the Big 12 Championship?"
Natalie made a shocked face. "No! I just know he puts out really good CDs, and he's got a new one…hint, hint."
"So the three of you can fight over that Christmas idea," Alex told them.
"Really, Mother," Gigi wouldn't let the subject drop. "Did you know some stores are open twenty-four hours, so people can shop all night long? I bet there wouldn't be crowds then."
Dave laughed. "Oh yeah! I bet there would be some real interesting people shopping in the middle of the night, too."
"Oh yeah," Natalie repeated, and looked at her husband. "Remind me to set the alarm for three a.m., so I can get up and go shop."
"Right." He nodded.
Gigi huffed. "I just meant—"
"Enough," Alex spoke up. Natalie was a good sport, but this was a touchy subject. "Quit giving your mother crap about Christmas shopping or she might turn the whole mess over to me—and then you'll be really sorry."
"Whatever!" Gigi stood up. "I need to go."
Natalie looked at her. "I don't think so."
"Yes, I do." Gigi crossed her arms.
Alex tossed the sports section of the paper on the end table and stood up. "Gillian, I think you can stay a few minutes to talk to your mother and me."
She tried to give him a dirty look but didn't seem to be able to, and dropped back onto her chair.
Dave dragged himself off the sofa and stood up. "I guess that's our cue to take off, little brother. Gather your stuff and I'll drop you back at the dorm." He tugged Gigi's bangs. "And whatever you did, well, see ya! Wouldn't want to be ya!"
"Bite me," Gigi retorted, and then she had to squirm away as Dave and Matt each converged on her neck from either side. "Stop!" she squealed.
"You invited," Dave told her.
"Ve vant to suck your blood!" Matt gave her his best Dracula accent.
"Dad!" she squealed again.
Alex cheerfully stepped in. "Get out of here, you two." He grabbed the boys by the backs of their collars. "Take the rest of that cake, I certainly don't need it," he told Matt. And to Dave he said, "Thanksgiving, a week and a half. Be there or be square."
Natalie gave the boys hugs and kisses, and they left. She stood at the doorway with Alex, watching the kids drive off, and stalling re-entry to the family room. He knew she was dreading it as much as he was.
"Come on." He put his hand on her back. "Let's get this over with."
"I wonder if this is ever going to be over with?" she mused as they returned to Gigi.
"We need to talk," Alex told their daughter.
"But first," Natalie chimed in, "did you get in with that specialist?"
Gigi rolled her eyes. "Oh, hell no. He can't even see me until mid-December."
"At least you have an appointment," Natalie confirmed.
Gigi crossed her arms defiantly. "Yes, but that's not what I want to talk about. I've been doing the math on this thing, and unless you lied to us about all kinds of other things, then it just doesn't figure. You guys were married in June. I was born in August the next year, which would have me conceived around November. So you didn't have to get married, obviously."
Natalie sat on the easy chair and Alex sat on the arm of it, next to her. He looked at their daught
er. "None of this matters, Geege."
"It matters to me, dammit! I'm trying to make sense of something that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and I keep coming back to the fact that you guys lied to me, and are apparently still keeping things from me!"
"We tell you what you need to know," Alex replied calmly. "That's a parent's job, and we're trying—"
Gigi interrupted angrily. "Except you're not my parent, are you? That's lie number one."
He felt his insides harden like dried clay, and he had to force himself to speak calmly. "I understand that you're angry and upset, so I'm going to give you that one. That's your one freebie. Having said that, don't ever speak to me that way again. I'm your father in every way that counts, and I won't have you denigrate our relationship with pissy little comments."
"Apparently you're not my father in the most important way, or we wouldn't be having this discussion!" Tears streamed down Gigi's face.
"Oh, Gigi!" Natalie leaned forward. "You are so wrong! This man is your father in all the most important ways—he's been there for you from the very beginning, he's given you his heart and every single thing you've ever wanted your whole life! Whatever you have is because of him. And he's here for you now. Did you hear yourself when your brothers ganged up on you? You hollered for him, and he was there for you, just like he always has been."
Gigi was sobbing. "Why is this happening? I don't understand what I did to deserve this!"
Natalie and Alex exchanged glances and she said, "Sometimes things happen that we don't necessarily deserve. We have to deal with them and move on. This is hard on us, too, sweetheart. It's killing your father and me."
Gigi wiped her face with her sleeve and looked at them with resentment. "It doesn't seem that hard on you. I'm in agony. I can barely function enough to get through each day. It's like my energy has been zapped."
"We understand that," Natalie told her. "We really do. We're going through the same thing."
Gigi looked at her father. "You seem to have enough energy to play slap and tickle with mom in the kitchen, the hallway and the bedroom." She turned to Natalie. "And you—well, the only way I can make sense of this is to figure that you must be a big ol' slut."
"Gillian!" Alex roared.
Natalie's blood went cold.
"Why you stayed with her, Daddy, is beyond my comprehension. Maybe you were screwing around on her, too. Oh God, what about Dave and Matt? Do we have any idea whose kids they are?"
"Apologize to your mother." Alex was livid.
"To hell with you! To hell with the both of you! I'm so angry I can't stand it! I've got to get out of here."
Alex grabbed her arm. "You need to stay and face some facts. You may not like what you hear, but at this point, I don't care. I won't have you acting this way toward your mother."
Natalie jumped up next to him. "No, Alex. Let her go." Her eyes pleaded with him, and he released his hold on their daughter. "Tempers are too raw right now. We'll have to continue this discussion at another time."
He looked angrily at Gigi. "Not Thanksgiving. I won't have this ruining another holiday."
"I may not even be here for Thanksgiving," Gigi snapped. "I may fly to Chicago and spend the weekend with Aunt Dean."
Natalie's eyes widened, then she composed herself and said, "Make sure you inform us of your plans before you go anywhere. We want to know where you're going to be."
"I'll think about it," Gigi growled.
Alex faced her down. "If you want to be treated like an adult, then start acting like one. You don't have all the facts, and you're being cruel and vicious."
"Then tell me the facts!" she nearly screamed at him.
He eyed her levelly. "No. Go home, Gillian. We'll talk again when you can behave responsibly." He went to Natalie and pulled her into his arms.
They held each other as Gigi gathered her things to leave. "Drive safely," Natalie told her.
"I will," Gigi replied in a defeated tone, and walked out.
"Oh my God!" Natalie said into his neck.
"She was trying to hurt us. I thought she was more mature than that."
"She did a good job of it."
"Nat." He pulled back and held her at arm's length. "You have a decision to make. If you don't tell Gigi the truth, she's going to think she was conceived out of an affair—and I guess we know her feelings about that."
"I can't tell her." Natalie shook her head sadly.
"You'd rather keep the secret and let Gigi think you were a slut? I'm not sure that's the way to go."
She looked into his eyes. "How can I tell her about the horrible and violent way she was conceived? How will she live with herself knowing that?"
He nodded. "She might need therapy. That's not such a bad thing, it did wonders for you… for us."
"For right now, we're not going to tell her."
"All right," he agreed. "Then you need to call Dean and make sure she doesn't tell her, either. I'll never forgive your sister if she gets involved in this."
Natalie nodded, and buried her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her face and Alex pulled her back into his arms. "Don't cry."
She spoke into his neck again. "Don't go."
Alex's heart lurched, but he remained firm. "I have to."
"Still?" she looked at him. "You still feel like you have to leave me?"
"Yeah, I do." He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. He loved feeling her body pressed against his. He loved her. He was angry at her. He hated her.
"But why?" she whispered.
He hated himself for the way he felt, but he couldn't change his feelings any more than he could tell himself to stop loving her. It was just not possible.
"Why?" she whispered again. "I always thought we were so much in love that we could handle anything."
"We are," he said softly. "But you told her. You caused this, Natalie. You caused this whole damn mess."
"I know I did." She closed her eyes, and memories came flooding back.
Part Two
Twenty-five years earlier
Natalie Clark could have kicked herself. In such a hurry to get to her interior design class, preoccupied thinking about the lack of parking on the Kansas State University campus, she'd locked her keys in her car. When the class ended, she'd hurried back across the quad and discovered her predicament. Shivering, the windy autumn day cutting her no slack, she rubbed her hands over her arms and glanced around.
It was a fairly big school, twenty-thousand students more or less, centered in the heart of Manhattan, Kansas. The sidewalks teemed with people, but not a soul she recognized. Frustrated, Natalie peered into the window of the blue Mercury Comet and thought about kicking the car. "Dang it!" she muttered with disgust.
"Watch the language!" someone chided from behind.
Natalie spun in her tracks. A tall, handsome dark-haired fellow with the yummiest blue eyes she'd ever seen gazed at her.
"Sorry," she murmured.
"I was kidding." The eyes twinkled, almost danced, as a smile creased the corners of his mouth. "Problem?"
She couldn't seem to pry her gaze away from those blue irises. "I locked my keys in the car."
He quickly assessed the situation. "You need a coat hanger."
"Don't happen to have one on me."
"So I noticed." He glanced up and down her body. "You don't happen to have a coat on you, either. It's breezy out here."
Natalie smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, it is. I feel so stupid."
He shrugged. "Not a big deal. I could get it open if I had a hanger."
She looked from him to the car, then back at again. "I'm not sure what to do. I have to be at work in an hour."
The handsome hunk seemed to wrestle with a decision. "I live a couple blocks from here. We could walk there and get a hanger, and come back."
Cute guy or not, it doesn't sound like the best plan. "I should wait here."
"It's getting pretty chilly. I don't even have a jacket to offer
you. Come with me. You don't have to go inside, but the walk will warm you up. I'll grab a couple jackets, a hanger, and we'll come right back. I promise."
Hesitation flooded through her, but for some reason, she wanted to trust the guy. Before she could agree, his introduction spilled forth.
"My name's Alex Jameson. My dad owns Jameson Floor Covering in Aggieville. Now, would I tell you that if I had improper intentions toward you?"
She looked him over one more time, and finally smiled. "Maybe, if you're lying. You might be making it up to lull me into a false sense of complacency."
He laughed and picked up the black backpack sitting next to her car. "This all you have?"
"Yeah." She nodded, and they walked.
"If I was going to make something up, I'd make it a little more creative than a floor covering company. Like, my dad owns the First National Bank, or my dad owns Rush Street, the head shop on Moro Avenue."
She laughed out loud.
From beside her, he glanced over appreciatively. "You have a nice laugh…uh…I don't know your name."
"Nat," she replied. "Natalie Clark."
His smile widened. "You have a nice laugh, Natalie Clark."
She grinned. "I was wondering to myself if I'd have come with you if you'd told me your father owns the head shop on Moro."
He motioned left at the corner, and they turned. "What's wrong with the head shop? They have really cool posters, candles, incense—"
"I know, I know. They also have bongs and rolling papers for funny cigarettes. I've lived here all my life. I know why the majority of people frequent Rush Street."
Alex chuckled softly. "You grew up here? How is it we've never met? I graduated from Manhattan High School."
She ducked her head self-consciously. "I almost hate to tell you. I went to Catholic school. Monsignor Luckey High."
"Ah ha." He nodded. "Don't be embarrassed, there's nothing wrong with Catholic school." He pointed to the house they approached. "Here we are."
Natalie looked it up and down. It was an old, three story building badly in need of a paint job, and desperate for someone to remove the ugly sofa from the front porch. "Wow, big house."