A Mother's Claim

by Janice Kay Johnson

  He nodded, the distress on his face not lessening.

  She nodded, too, and closed the door in their faces.

  Neither of them moved for a minute. That had gone about as well as Nolan had expected. Dana had hidden her hurt, apologized gracefully and left him feeling like something she’d scraped off her shoe. Had she even looked at him? He didn’t think so.

  “Well, bud, what say we go home and eat?”

  Christian’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded and turned to the SUV, Nolan following behind.

  Buckled in, the food on the backseat, Christian said, “Do you think she really has other plans?”

  No. Although she’d looked sexy enough, was there any chance she had a date? The roiling in Nolan’s belly felt more like a vicious eddy now, the kind that could suck you down.

  “I think she felt too uncomfortable to pretend to have a good time with us,” he said truthfully, accelerating away from the curb.

  “Will she stay mad at me?” Christian asked in a small voice.

  Nolan shook his head, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “With you? No.”

  With me? Oh, yeah. Although what she felt for him right now was a lot more complicated than mad.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DANA HAD DELETED the message Nolan left Monday without listening to it. But she listened to the one he left Wednesday after their visit.

  It was terse. “Christian would really like to see you. Since you’re working now and he can’t come by after school, would it be okay if I drop him off for an hour tonight or tomorrow night?”

  She had just come out of a meeting with Jessica and Meghan, where she’d shared some of her conclusions on programs that didn’t serve a large enough population or duplicated the efforts of other agencies. Alone in her small office, she returned his call, half hoping she would be able to leave a message.

  No such luck.

  “Dana?”

  Even his deep voice sent a shiver through her, which today made her feel foolish.

  “Tonight would be fine, if Christian wants to come by,” she said pleasantly. “Shall we say seven?”

  “Sounds good.” He was quiet for a moment. “Are you ever going to speak to me again?”

  “Aren’t we speaking right now?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I took your...friendliness at face value, which was clearly a mistake. I’m here to get to know my son. I let myself be distracted.”

  “I’ve never been dishonest with you.”

  Surprised at how heated he sounded, she retorted, “An omission can be as dishonest as a lie.”

  “Damn it, Dana—”

  She closed her eyes. “No, I shouldn’t have said that. All I know is, you’re in Christian’s corner. I thought...” She shook her head, even though he wouldn’t see. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” he said intensely.

  “I’d hoped we could all have the same goal, but I don’t think we do. So let’s just leave it, shall we, Nolan?” At a knock on her door she said, “I’m at work and need to go. I’ll expect Christian this evening unless I hear otherwise.” Setting down the phone, she called, “Come in.”

  Meghan poked her head in. “Hi, it’s just me. I had a few questions, if you have time.”

  Dana made herself smile despite the knot in her stomach. “Of course. Sit down.”

  I’m seeing Christian tonight. So why aren’t I excited?

  Because he was probably coming under duress? Or, at best, because he felt guilty?

  Her feelings had nothing to do with the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing Nolan.

  My choice. One I’d be smart to keep making.

  * * *

  EVEN AS CHRISTIAN rang the doorbell, he cast a pleading look over his shoulder at Uncle Nolan, waiting in the SUV at the curb. When Christian had begged him to come in, too, he’d shaken his head.

  He heard the sound of the lock being turned, and then the door opened. Dana smiled and said, “Come on in.” She waved at Uncle Nolan. By the time they were inside, he was driving away.

  “I assume you had dinner?”

  He nodded, relaxing a little. She was being nice, like she had the time he came by after school.

  “Do you have room for a cinnamon roll?” She wrinkled her nose. “I shouldn’t have bought them, but temptation overcame me.”

  He had a weird moment. Something about that expression made him realize that he did kind of look like her. Maybe...a lot like her.

  Would everyone guess if they saw him with her?

  “Um, yeah, cool,” he got out.

  They sat at the kitchen table again, both drinking milk. She nibbled on half a cinnamon roll—Christian could kind of see why, since they were huge—while he had one to himself.

  She repeated her apology, promising not to put him on the spot again.

  Feeling a cramping in his chest, he flattened some icing on the plate with his fork. “No, I should have said you could come. It’s just...” He took a deep breath. “I was embarrassed. You know. Because I did my project on Uncle Nolan.”

  “I would have understood,” she said quietly. “You’re proud of him. That’s okay.”

  “I always wanted—” He stopped, ducking his head again.

  “To be like him?”

  Christian nodded.

  “You probably will be like him in some ways, you know. He raised you. That may have more impact on how you turn out, what interests you, what you’re good at, than your genes do.”

  He lifted his head. “You really think so?”

  Her smile made him feel good. “Yes, I do. Plus...the Gregors have a lot in common with my family. We tend to be tall, for example. Athletic. We’re good students. Those things are all true of Nolan, too.”

  “Mom wasn’t.” He heard himself. “I mean...”

  “I know what you mean. And—Well, I haven’t even seen a picture of her. Was she short?”

  “Kind of medium,” he said. “Not as tall as you.”

  Dana nodded. “It sounds like she may not have done well in school, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t smart. Her mental illness could have made it hard for her to focus or remember why finishing something was important. It obviously got in the way of her working well with other students.”

  “I used to worry—” He sneaked a look at her.

  “What did you worry about?”

  “That, I don’t know, I might end up like her. Sick in the head. I went online,” he said in a rush, “and schizophrenia can be inherited.”

  “I know that’s true sometimes,” she said gently. “But not always. Is there anyone else in the family you know of who was mentally ill?”

  He shook his head. “Uncle Nolan says no.”

  “Well, hey!” She laughed, but kind of softly. “At least you can forget that worry. My grandfather died of heart disease when he was only in his early sixties, so my dad worries a lot about his heart, but you’re a long ways from having to think about that.”

  He grinned. “Yeah.” Sixties was old.

  “I have some photo albums, if you’d like to see pictures of my family,” she said, sounding a little nervous.

  His family, was what she meant.

  “Do you have a picture of you at my age?”

  She made a funny face. “Probably. I looked like a giraffe.”

  He laughed. “There’s a girl like that in my class. I’m taller than her, but hardly any of the other guys are. And she’s got arms like sticks.”

  “That was me.”

  She went off and came back with several photo albums, plunking them down on the table. “No, I won’t make you look at every picture,” she said, laughing.

  She put an al
bum in front of him. “This one, Mom put together for me. When I was eleven...” She started to flip through.

  Christian stopped her. “No, that’s... Wow.” He went back to the beginning, seeing her as a newborn in her mother’s arms in the hospital. She didn’t look that much like her mother. As he slowly turned pages, he saw that she took more after her father, who... He stopped and stared at one photo.

  “You look a lot like your grandfather,” she said softly. “And my brother, too.”

  He stayed mostly quiet, but he kept turning pages until he finished this album, with her in college graduation robes. My mother. Then he reached for another album, and another. She pointed out his uncle and aunt, and he saw their children growing up. My cousins. Yet another album held pictures from her wedding, so he saw his dad, too, and grandparents on that side and an aunt. And there was the uncle who’d been on the Olympic luge team.

  It was completely bizarre, but he couldn’t quit looking. It was like...this whole history. His history, in a way. Like photo albums Grandma and Grandad had had, but he was actually related to these people.

  Christian didn’t even know what he felt. It got so he could hardly breathe. For a minute he was afraid he might cry, but he couldn’t even do that.

  Finally, he closed the last album and just sat there.

  “I thought,” Dana said, “that I’d take out some pictures and get them copied. Make you an album. You could put it away, in case you’re interested later.”

  He nodded.

  “Good.” She smiled and piled them up. “It’s already after eight. I’ll bet your uncle will be here anytime.”

  “He’s not really my uncle.”

  She hadn’t touched him before, but now she did, squeezing his shoulder very quickly, kind of like Uncle Nolan did. “I think he always will be,” she said, not as if she minded.

  Now his eyes did sting, so he kept his face turned away until he was sure he wouldn’t start sobbing or something.

  Watching Dana put their plates in the dishwasher, Christian said, “It wasn’t his fault, you know.”

  She turned to look at him. “That I didn’t know about the open house, you mean?”

  “That, and—” he shrugged, feeling awkward and dorky “—me not wanting to see you. He kept saying you’re part of my life, but... I don’t know. I had to sort of think about it.”

  She smiled, but crooked. “I swore I’d be patient.” Her eyes looked wet, although no tears fell. “And then I wasn’t. I promise I’ll do better.”

  “I wish you weren’t mad at Uncle Nolan!” He swallowed hard. His voice came out small and shaky. “It’s fun when we’re all together.”

  He thought she was crying a little now. “You’re telling me I should quit sulking, huh?”

  “Just... I’ve been mad at him because he was kind of on your side. And now you’re mad at him.”

  She swiped the back of her hand over one eye, then the other. “Okay. You’re right. I thought... Oh, it doesn’t matter. You can tell him he’s officially forgiven.”

  “Cool.” He tipped his head, hearing an engine out front. “I bet that’s him. I guess I better go.”

  “Yes.” This time her smile was real.

  She walked him to the door and opened it, surprising Uncle Nolan, who had a foot on the first porch step. She politely thanked him for coming and Uncle Nolan for driving him over and said, “Good night.”

  When they got in the SUV, Uncle Nolan looked at him.

  “She showed me pictures. Of her growing up and her parents and brother and...and my father and his family.” Christian stared ahead through the windshield. “I look like them. Dana’s dad and brother. And even her, when she was my age.”

  “That’s to be expected.” Uncle Nolan sounded kind.

  Christian turned to him. “But she said I might grow up to be like you anyway, ’cause you raised me and that’s as important as, you know, genes.”

  “Did she,” he said under his breath, not asking a question.

  “And she said to say that she’s gotten over being mad at you. Because I explained it was all me.”

  Uncle Nolan’s face changed. Christian couldn’t tell what he was thinking, except he was really glad. “Thank you,” he said.

  Christian nodded. “I was thinking.”

  His uncle cocked an eyebrow.

  “That she might like to see pictures of me, too. You know, when I was little.”

  “You’re a good kid. We’ll have her over and let her look all she wants. Then we’ll make up an album for her. Okay?”

  Christian drew a breath. It filled his lungs, as if they’d expanded. For a minute he felt light-headed. “I bet she’d like that.”

  “I bet she would, too.”

  * * *

  “HEY, HAVE YOU ever tried wave jumping?” Jeff Yantis was a local who competed internationally in freestyle and big-air windsurfing, especially popular in the Hood River area. In big air, competitors went for the highest jump or maneuver. Yantis had endorsement deals with several board and sail manufacturers, making his a familiar face throughout the sport. He was the classic surfer dude: skin tanned and leathery, shaggy hair bleached nearly white by the sun, electric-blue eyes.

  “I did some during R & R when I was military,” Nolan said. “It was fun. Oahu and Africa.”

  “Africa?”

  “Namibia.” He had no intention of explaining why he’d been in the vicinity.

  “Awesome,” Jeff declared. “The speed-sailing record was set there.”

  “Yep.” The bell on the door tinkled. Nolan was more interested in who was coming in than he was in Jeff, who loved talking about his own exploits.

  One of his part-timers met the two women who entered, and Nolan returned his attention to Jeff, who was likable enough, as well as a good customer. He talked up Wind & Waves in a way that had boosted business, too.

  Rhapsodizing about this new experience, he made wave jumping sound like skateboarding only using giant waves as ramps, which wasn’t a bad comparison. Apparently, Jeff had been lucky enough to be on Maui when massive swells made huge aerial moves possible. He was demonstrating how he had twisted his body while performing two rotations when the bell over the door tinkled again.

  Nolan’s adrenaline rush at seeing Dana probably compared with Jeff’s while he was pulling off the Crazy Pete. He smiled when she spotted him.

  “Jeff, sorry to interrupt, but my lunch date is here.”

  The guy turned to look, then grinned. “Hot lady.”

  “She is.”

  “Listen, I got to be going, anyway. I’ll be away for a few weeks—Australia—but when I get back, I’ll stop by. I’ve heard about a new board, different comp—”

  Nolan quit listening midword and forgot to say goodbye. Instead, he watched Dana approach. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Dana appeared shy, but she lifted the white paper bag she carried in one hand. “Lunch, as promised.”

  She’d called that morning and asked if she could come by. Nolan jumped on her offer to bring lunch.

  He signaled toward the back, and today’s assistant nodded and waved. Nolan led Dana through the store, stopping to pick up drinks from a small fridge in the break room, and out the back door to a patio with a table, chairs and a big umbrella.

  “Is this warm weather normal for May?” she asked, sitting at the table.

  “No. Don’t worry. Rain is bound to come.”

  She chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to rain if I stay in Lookout.”

  If. Not the word he wanted to hear.

  Nolan pulled out a chair, too, and watched as she produced deli sandwiches and potato salad in small cardboard containers.

  “Looks good,” he said, reaching for a sandwich.

  Sounding
tentative, she said, “I know you probably can’t spare much time, but I thought—”

  “I’m the boss. After you called, I arranged staffing to give me as long as I want.”

  Her face didn’t relax as much as he’d have liked. “Mostly, I wanted to tell you the same thing I told Christian. I’m—”

  He interrupted again, with no compunction. “If this is an apology, skip it. Once is enough. And we screwed up, too.”

  She blinked. “Well...okay.”

  “This is going to be a short lunch if that’s all you have to say.” He let some humor inflect his voice.

  “I had hoped to eat,” Dana said tartly.

  He nodded at the untouched food. “Then eat.”

  They both started with potato salad, silence holding for a couple minutes. Dana looked out at the river, relatively placid with mild winds, and Nolan watched her.

  Damn, she was pretty. For a woman of her height, her bone structure was fine, almost delicate. Her cheekbones were sharp rather than rounded, her often stubborn jaw so defined his fingers itched to trace it. A high, slightly curving forehead gave her an appearance of vulnerability that he doubted had been true before her son was stolen. He found himself wondering if he’d have been as intrigued by the happier, less complicated woman she had been.

  Maybe not. Aside from the tragedies that had winnowed his family down to two, he had seen and done too much in the service to feel comfortable revealing much to people whose lives had been safe, who saw the world in black and white.

  He wanted to know Dana.

  She turned luminous gray eyes on him at that moment. “Can we go back to...I don’t know, being friendly?”

  To risk or not to risk. He mentally tossed the dice. “I liked it when we were more than friendly.”

  She kept studying him, a hint of warmth in her cheeks. “You admitted how goal oriented you are. Was that kiss a way of softening me up? Deflecting me from my goal?”

  He wanted to take offense but couldn’t. He did have a goal, or at least the desire to explore the idea of how the three of them would work as a family. In the shorter term, though...