Child of Mine

by Beverly Lewis

  Jack folded his arms awkwardly. “We have a tradition in the Livingston household . . .”

  Kelly looked at him with anticipation as Jack described their usual Friday nights, which included a movie and popcorn, junk food, and late hours. “Of course, dinner is first.”

  “Wow, you’re going to spoil me.”

  Jack considered giving Kelly a kiss until he heard the clearing of a preteen voice. “We’re in public, Dad. The neighbors are looking.”

  Kelly laughed, putting her hands on his chest as if to forestall any further attempt. He let her go unkissed but with intentions for many attempts to follow.

  From the front stoop, he and Nattie hugged each other and watched Kelly drive down the block, welcoming her into their lives.

  Chapter 28

  Kelly awakened to the scent of eucalyptus, and for a moment it was as if she hadn’t moved. She heard a furry sound, followed by a soft meow, and looked over her bed. Sleepy-eyed Felix was looking up at her. “Hey, boss lady, I’m hungry. How ’bout you?”

  Wearing her oversized T-shirt, Kelly pulled back the covers and stumbled to the bathroom, took a peek at the mirror, her hair scattered in every direction, and winced.

  When she returned, Felix was in the middle of the room, cleaning his paw, his green eyes narrowed to lazy slits.

  She sat at the bedside again, and Felix made a beeline for her legs, practically diving into her ankle, dropping to his side, and pawing at the carpet.

  The morning sun twinkled off the brass handles of her distressed white dresser. And the answer to her question, the answer she’d been seeking for years, now lay in a plastic bag on top—the sucker-disguised swab she’d used on Nattie at the park. Kelly picked up the bag and stared at it, then sat back on the bed. She turned the plastic bag over, the sucker sliding about, and tears formed in her eyes. Getting to know Nattie had severely complicated things.

  She wasn’t just a prospect. She was a darling girl. Kelly hugged herself in the stillness of a bright morning. Are you my daughter? More than anything, she wanted the answer to be yes. In fact, she was way overinvested in the answer.

  Already she’d vacillated, changing her mind a dozen times. She could throw the sample away, or she could send it in. Here it was, three days later, and she still hadn’t made up her mind.

  Her cell phone chirped. She picked it up and read the text from Melody. You’re gone tonight, right?

  She texted back: Meeting Jack again. Sorry!

  Melody: Yikes. Does he know yet?

  Kelly: Sigh

  Melody: I’m here for you.

  Kelly drove the familiar route and met Jack at a little French eatery called Chantal. Kelly noted that the café was the perfect combination of upscale and homey—white tablecloths and votive candles, fresh flowers, and not too exotic for small-town Wooster. He met her at the door dressed in new jeans and a blue-striped button-down shirt, in keeping with the recent cool weather.

  “Well, my day has certainly picked up.”

  She patted his chest playfully. “You say the nicest things.”

  The hostess led them to a window table, and after placing their orders, they fell into comfortable conversation. Jack talked about his work and about Nattie, of course, and she waxed on about her own work.

  In the spotlight of Jack’s enamored focus, it was becoming easier for Kelly to compartmentalize, to conduct herself without feeling as if she were lying about nearly everything she talked about. And really, she wasn’t. She was merely keeping the Emily part of her life cordoned off—simply withholding the truth about how, and why, they’d met.

  Sure, she’d suspected Nattie was hers, and yes, she’d tested Nattie, just in case, but she’d all but decided not to submit it to the lab, because knowing the truth would change everything for her . . . and for them.

  What mattered most was that she’d been invited into their family and welcomed with the full red-carpet treatment. Nattie regarded her as if she were the designated future mommy. And so did Jack, for that matter.

  I’ll tell him the truth when the time is right, Kelly thought, and she meant it, though there was always the chance that she was overestimating his willingness to forgive. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” he would joke, but then he’d enfold her into his arms. “This is even better than I could have imagined! I’ve been dating Nattie’s birth mother!”

  She sighed at her hoped-for scenario. Truth was, it was a big risk, telling Jack.

  Don’t think about that now, she told herself, dipping the crusty bread into her bisque and smiling over at Jack.

  After dinner, Kelly followed Jack home. Nattie came running across the yard from Diane’s. They shared some salted caramel ice cream together before Kelly needed to head back to Akron.

  At one point, after Nattie had administered another dose of hot fudge and whipped cream to Kelly’s ice cream, Kelly teared up.

  Nattie looked stricken. “Are you okay?”

  Kelly wiped her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just . . . so happy.”

  Jack pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “So are we, honey. You have no idea.”

  Kelly swiped another tear off her cheek. I’m already “honey.” Nattie kept watching her, as if worried she might break in two. Kelly gave her an I’m really okay smile, but Nattie didn’t seem to buy it. Nattie was already hovering like a daughter. The daughter I was never allowed to raise.

  Later, Nattie walked her to her car and hugged her so tightly she almost lost her breath. When Nattie let go, she looked up at her. “Call us when you get home. My dad worries.”

  Jack kissed her, and she had to smile because Nattie didn’t protest about his public display of affection.

  Kelly drove home in dead silence, barely aware of the passing miles, and opened the door to her quiet apartment, the only place she wasn’t living a lie.

  I’m so unbelievably, incomprehensibly happy, she realized, hugging herself on her couch, letting the tears fall again.

  And so miserable.

  In the days that followed, Jack and Kelly continued with their flirtatious texting, their routine nightly calls, lasting minutes to hours, until their relationship became a given.

  During one of their phone conversations, Kelly made a reference to what her boss had asked, “So tell me about your boyfriend . . .”

  She explained how she had described Jack’s profession and his lovely daughter, but Jack could tell she was actually waiting for him to either confirm or correct her assumption.

  He swooped in and did just that. “Boyfriend, eh?”

  She went silent.

  “I like the sound of that,” he added. “Are you my girlfriend?”

  “I think three dinner dates equals commitment,” Kelly replied. “We’re practically married, you know.”

  “Yup,” Jack said. “I read that somewhere.”

  “Does that mean I have a standing date for Saturday night?”

  “It does,” he said.

  “Do I have to buy new clothes?”

  “Heavens, no,” Jack said.

  “How does Nattie feel about everything?”

  He was about to say, “She’s already asking if she can be the flower girl,” but decided against it.

  Fridays became “family time,” hanging out with Nattie at the house, watching movies, most of which, for some inexplicable reason, Kelly hadn’t seen. Nattie thrilled to the joy of introducing her personal favorites to Kelly for the first time, and Kelly enjoyed playing Nattie’s rating game. In fact, Nattie began placing the DVDs on the shelves in order according to Kelly’s favorites, starting with Finding Nemo.

  Jack’s favorites, Chicken Run and Shrek, didn’t even come close to hers, and Nattie made sure they all knew it.

  “Poor guy,” Kelly whispered back, loudly enough for Jack to hear, winking at him.

  Nattie turned and grinned. “You’re outnumbered.”

  “What else is new?”

  “It’s a girl’s world, you know,” Nattie added
. “You’re just living in it.”

  Jack laughed at the accurate assessment.

  On Saturday nights, Jack and Kelly went out for dinner, leaving Nattie with Livy—supervised by Diane, of course. Dinner was usually followed by something relaxing, like miniature golf, walks around various lakes and parks, or a stroll through the College of Wooster Art Museum. They even tried line dancing once, which went well but not well enough to repeat.

  “Maybe square dancing,” Jack suggested.

  “Or ballroom dancing?”

  “Hmm,” Jack muttered.

  Kelly laughed. “Or maybe not!”

  Eventually, Kelly even came down for Wednesday night church, which Jack and Nattie had rarely attended but now resumed if only to find another excuse to spend time with Kelly. Jack admitted as much to Kelly, and she only chuckled. “I feel special.”

  Nattie heard this. “You left special in the dust.”

  One night, sitting alone on the sofa, while Nattie gave them space, Jack mentioned Laura’s gardening touches, and with her elbow on the top cushion, Kelly asked casually, “Do you miss her?”

  “Nattie does, of course . . .” Jack began. And so do I. “But there haven’t been as many tears as I’d expected.”

  Kelly nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “I can’t imagine how Nattie must feel, losing her nanny after so long.”

  Kelly had no idea of the events that had led to Laura’s quitting, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her. Without Kelly in their life, of course, losing Laura would have seemed unbearable.

  Kelly’s path finally crossed Laura’s one day when Laura dropped off Nattie after a visit to the farm, and Kelly happened to show up a little early. Jack heard about it from Kelly and later that night from Nattie.

  Apparently Kelly and Laura went overboard to make nice, and according to Nattie, there wasn’t anything fakey about it. Laura even led Kelly to the back porch swing while Nattie ran inside to grab some iced tea for everyone.

  Nattie said that Kelly asked Laura about her gardening, commenting on what a wonderful job she’d done, and Laura thanked Kelly for her kindness.

  Upon hearing Nattie’s account, Jack felt strangely conflicted. He still missed Laura, and not just as his nanny, but as someone with whom he’d shared his life. And now, with Laura physically gone, he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been going through a weird kind of rebound with Laura’s departure. He didn’t want to tell Kelly this, of course, but as it turned out, he’d underestimated Kelly’s powers of observation.

  After dinner one evening, while Nattie was playing upstairs, he asked Kelly how she might have felt if Laura were still working for them. Kelly gave a thoughtful reply. “It would have been fine for me. But . . . it might have been tricky for Laura.”

  She touched his arm. “Is that too honest?”

  He took this in, absorbing the tender look in her eyes. “Does it bother you?”

  Kelly shrugged. “I’m not worried about Laura, if that’s what you mean. I don’t play the jealous game, Jack. If we are meant to be, we’ll be together.”

  He gave this more thought. She squeezed his hand again with reassurance. “I knew from the beginning that you might have had feelings for her.”

  Jack winced. But she was right. Forgetting Laura hadn’t been easy. By now, he’d even expected his feelings for Laura to have vanished. But they hadn’t.

  He sighed softly. “So . . . why did you take a chance on me, Kelly?”

  She bit her lip and gave him a humorous smile. “What can I say? I like blue-eyed blonds.”

  Jack laughed and squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”

  “You won’t.”

  One hot summer day, Kelly drove down after work, meeting Jack at home. Nattie was gone to a friend’s, no doubt commiserating about the upcoming start of school.

  Jack met her at the door. “I’m almost finished with something.” She followed him into his office and waited, reviewing his aviation wall, marveling again at the signature by Wilbur Wright. She also noticed the picture of Jack with his father, taken in front of an older 172. Jack joined her at the wall.

  “You’re right,” Kelly said, leaning in closer. “San looks like your father.”

  Jack touched her arm and sighed. “Maybe . . . but she still reminds me of my mother.”

  “You two seem close.”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know if anyone really gets that close to San.”

  “How did your father die?” Kelly asked.

  “Coroner’s report says cardiac arrest. But as far as I’m concerned, he died of a broken heart.”

  Kelly seemed to consider this. “You have no pictures of your mother?”

  “Only one I keep in a drawer.” In the dark, he thought. Kelly leaned closer to him, slipping her arm around his waist, still staring at the picture of his father.

  “Do you have any good memories of her, Jack?”

  Jack shook his head. “If I do, they’re buried beneath the bad ones.”

  Kelly went silent.

  “I don’t hate her,” Jack said, as if trying to convince himself. “I just don’t want to be reminded of her.”

  He could tell she was holding her tongue. Actually, most of the time, he probably did despise his mother, although he’d been fighting it for a lifetime. Lately, considering the dustups with San, encountering her razor-sharp tongue, he seemed to be losing the war.

  “I’m trying, Kelly. Some days are better than others. That’s the hardest part. For the longest time I drowned my anger in the same thing that had made her so hateful. Alcohol.”

  “She must have been in a lot of pain.”

  Jack scoffed. “The only pain I remember is the pain she caused my father. As far as I’m concerned, she took my father from me.” And then he sighed with embarrassment. “Like I said, I am trying.”

  Kelly hugged him. “I don’t think we ever feel like forgiving until we do. I think the feeling comes after the choice. We have to step out in faith. Besides, forgiveness isn’t for her, you know. It’s for you.”

  She looked up at him apologetically. “I guess my short marriage taught me a thing or two about the subject. Was that too preachy?”

  He shook his head. Coming from San, it would have felt like a lecture. Coming from Kelly, it felt like hope, but he was taken aback. She rarely talked about her husband.

  “Someday it’ll just click into place,” she said. “You’re almost there, you know. I mean . . . that’s what I like about you, Jack. You always see the best in everyone.”

  Obviously not, he thought.

  “We all want to be remembered for our better moments,” she said softly. And then she chuckled. “I know I do!”

  Jack kissed her cheek, unable to remember a single “better” moment with his mother, much less a good one. “Here’s a good thing,” he said wryly. “Mom reminds me of what I don’t want to be.”

  They headed out the door to the airfield, and thirty minutes later, they were in the air again—only the second time they’d flown together. This time, Kelly was noticeably less nervous. They flew over the lake they’d walked around after that first dinner date, and Kelly marveled at the sight. “It’s sooo tiny!”

  “We’re two thousand feet aboveground.” He laughed. “It should look tiny.”

  He turned to the north and asked her, “Wanna land it again?”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t think so, Jack. No. But thanks for asking.”

  He smiled, continuing their short tour, pointing out further Wooster landmarks. An hour later, he landed the plane, and they headed to the off-ramp. When he pulled up, he set the brake and shut it down. Kelly grabbed his shirt, pulled him closer, and kissed him.

  “What was that for?”

  “For taking me into the clouds, Jack. In every way.”

  Jack laughed and kissed her back.

  Later, they stopped at the coffee shop and sat at “their booth” for another hour as Kelly described the thrill she fe
lt in the air. He was only remotely aware of the sounds around him, the explosive guffaw of the table of men, the whoosh of the coffee machine, the whine of a small child. He was too busy thinking about the thrill he felt knowing this incredible woman. What if she’d never come back? he thought, remembering that first day when he’d told her Nattie’s bully story.

  He must have been staring at her too intently, because she blushed. Holding her mug, she turned away. “You’re cute, Jack.”

  He took a breath and took a chance. “You and I have something else in common.”

  Smiling, Kelly waited expectantly.

  “We both lost our favorite parent.”

  Kelly grinned, agreeing. “I look like my mother, but I have my father’s temperament.”

  “Me too,” Jack replied. They shared a laugh.

  “I was my daddy’s girl,” Kelly continued. “I think Mom always felt a bit like she was on the outside looking in, not that it bothered her. She was always so busy. Motherhood never really defined her life. She’s the type who feels like now that she’s done raising her daughter, it’s time to move on.” Kelly sighed softly, holding her mug. “I love her dearly, and she loves me, but . . . we’re not close. We have so little in common. It’s like we struggle to find a reason to talk to each other.”

  Jack reached for her hand. “You mentioned your husband earlier.”

  Kelly shrugged, but he could sense a sudden tension.

  “Have you forgiven him?” Jack asked. It was a leading question, but he was curious about a part of her life she rarely addressed.

  “I have,” Kelly said simply. “But it took years, you know, so I understand the difficulty you might have.”

  “But . . . how did you do it?”

  She cleared her throat. “I think I finally realized . . .” She took a breath, pausing, then met his eyes. “He was driven by his addiction and didn’t grasp the consequences of what he was doing. He was trapped within his own skin.”

  Jack squeezed her hand, feeling the intensity of the moment, sensing she wanted to talk about this but also guessing the topic was uncomfortable. “What was so difficult to forgive?” Then he shook his head, regretting the question. “No . . . sorry . . . that’s too personal.”