She looked up at him. “You should be home with your family for Thanksgiving.”
“I have a lifetime of Thanksgivings to spend with my family. But I only have the next two and a half weeks to spend with you, just the two of us. I don’t want to give that up. Who knows what the future will bring, if we’ll ever see each other again?” He ran his fingers into the hair above her ear and cupped her head. “Give me this time. Give us this time to spend together and enjoy each other…while working hard to get you into shape, of course.”
Neve tilted her head into his hand and closed her eyes. “I’d like that. But…”
“No buts.”
“Your mother—”
“Will understand.” Hopefully. And if she didn’t, you know what? Rory didn’t care. He’d deal with her when he got home. Right now, being here with Neve was more important.
She stepped back. “If you stay, regardless of what happens between us, I will not change my mind about joining Cirque du Soleil.”
“I would never expect you to.”
“I will be moving ahead with my new life and leaving my past behind.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “And you will be a part of that past. There is no future for us.”
He nodded, but planned to do his best to change her mind.
“You’ll leave on December seventh, the day before Luca returns, without argument.”
“Yes.”
“If you agree, then I agree.” She held out her hand and Rory shook it.
“Oh wait.” She snapped her fingers. “Before you agree.” She walked over to the window and looked out. “You should know, this afternoon, in a moment of weakness, I accepted an invitation for Thanksgiving.” She turned back to look at him. “I thought for sure you’d be leaving as soon as you got back from Lil’s. Nate has to work. I didn’t want to be alone.” She pushed some hair behind her ear. “You could come with me, but it’s likely to be a disaster of a day.”
Chapter 13
Thanksgiving Day had arrived, and even though Neve had considered canceling her plans at least two dozen times in the last twenty-four hours, she hadn’t.
“Nice house,” Rory said.
“Yup.” A small colonial-style home, white with black shutters. A white picket fence boxed in a decent-sized front yard. Nice landscaping. Remnants of flowers, dead from the cold, remained in the rock garden surrounding the tree closest to them. Not at all what Neve would have expected from the woman she’d overheard her mother complaining about, the woman who’d left her one-week-old infant on a doorstep.
Twenty-five years ago. Get over it.
Seatbelt off, back against the driver’s-side door, Rory sat facing her. “You ready yet?”
Nope, even though they’d been sitting in the car, in the driveway, going on twenty minutes. A few more and they’d be late, despite arriving early.
“This was a mistake.” One simple, innocent phone call to her birth-mother, for additional billing information required by the home care agency, a brief conversation with Aiden, and here they were.
“It’s not a mistake.”
The front door of the house opened and the boy responsible for Neve’s current situation walked over to them and stood there, arms crossed over his chest, shivering.
Neve got right out of the car. “Get back in the house. It’s too cold for you to be outside without a jacket on.” And no hat, his head covered in a light peach-fuzz of new hair growth, not anywhere near thick enough to keep his head warm. She hadn’t saved his life so he could catch pneumonia and die.
“You sound like my mom.” His lips curved into a small smile that reminded Neve of her own smile. “I was wondering when you planned on coming in. Mom said we can’t eat until you do, and I’m starving.” As a boy, Nate had always been hungry too. Nate, the brother she’d grown up with, who she loved dearly. Nate, who she’d lied to, telling him she and Rory were going to Brooke’s house for Thanksgiving. It wasn’t the first time she’d lied to him, but it was the first time she felt guilty about it. But he would have had a fit if she’d told him the truth—that she’d be spending the holiday with her…other family.
“We’re coming in right now,” Rory said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her forward.
“What’s in the bag?” Aiden asked, walking alongside them.
“Your mom told me you like brownies,” Neve said.
“I do.” He bounced a step or two and clapped his hands.
Such excitement, for something as simple as brownies. “And Rory made a pumpkin pie.” That’d had her condo smelling delicious, fueling some pretty hard-core cravings. Today she would splurge. Dessert couldn’t come soon enough—for the pie as much as for this little visit to be close to over.
Inside, her birth-mother greeted them each with a hug, her scent familiar from the hospital, a light perfume, classy. Out of bed this time, Neve noticed her birth-mother stood a few inches taller. Able to hug her in return, she noticed the softness of her sweater, her slender frame, and the muted colors of her makeup, more to blend in than stand out.
“Come in. Come in. Aiden, take their coats.” She held her hand out to Rory. “We’ve never been properly introduced. I’m Michelle, my friends call me Missy.”
All of a sudden this woman had a name to go with her face. Michelle. Missy. Neve stopped, midstride, and studied her. She looked like a Missy. It was a good name, more personal than “birth-mother,” more acceptable than “selfish bitch who gave birth to me.”
“Neve.” Missy’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Are you okay?”
Rory’s hand settled on her back, a light touch to let her know he was there. Thank goodness for Rory. “Fine. Yes.” She slid out of her jacket and handed it to Aiden. “You have a lovely home.” God, she sounded like Brooke. But the home was lovely—neat, warm, and welcoming, with beautiful hardwood floors. Lots of pictures of Aiden on the walls, and comfortable-looking, overstuffed brown sofas in the living room to the left.
“Thank you for having us,” Rory said, handing over the bag of desserts.
“We’re so happy you could join us.”
A man walked into the entryway, taller than Rory but not as tall as Nate, mostly bald on top of his head, what little hair he had mostly black. He had a round middle, wore black slacks, black dress shoes, and a white button-down shirt, nothing special. But he looked kind, gentle, an accountant or maybe an English teacher, not at all a man she would have pictured her mother’s wild sister with. “You are always welcome in our home,” he said to Neve, and then stood awkwardly, glanced toward Missy, unsure of what to do next.
Neve helped him out by giving him a hug. “Thank you.”
“Rodger.” He held out his hand to Rory. “Missy’s husband.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
He rubbed Aiden’s head affectionately. “Of course everyone knows Aiden.”
Neve’s half brother walked over, stood right in front of her, and looked up. About half a head shorter than her, still thin, but his face had filled out and his color had improved from the picture Missy had given her.
“Is it okay if I hug you?” he asked.
Some never-before-felt emotion clogged Neve’s throat, rendering her unable to speak, so she nodded. His arms came around her waist and he squeezed tight. “Thank you.”
She blinked back tears as she hugged him right back. “Anytime.” When they separated she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” was all he said. “Look.” Aiden dragged her by the arm to a corner of the family room with pictures on the wall of…her.
What? Sophomore year of college, in her school leotard, standing on the center podium when she’d finished first in the all-around of the NCAA Northeast Regional Gymnastics Championships. Senior year, when she’d finished third in the NCAA National Gymnastics Championships. The girl who’d finished first had gone on to make the U.S. Olympic team as an alternate.
Neve pointed to a picture of Luca and her posing fo
r pictures after one of their shows, then turned to Missy, who’d come to stand beside her. “You were there?”
She nodded.
Whoa.
Rory pointed to a frame with her high school and college graduation pictures side by side. “With honors, high school and college, you’re just full of surprises.”
“Between her grades and her gymnastics, she got a full scholarship to college,” Missy said proudly.
The same old resentment flared to life. Missy had no right to be proud of any of Neve’s accomplishments. Determined to make this day a tolerable one for everyone concerned, she tamped it down, but couldn’t pass up the opportunity to give Missy a little dig. “I overheard my mother complaining about how much I cost her.” She shot her birth-mother a stare, knowing she’d been there to hear it too.
Missy wouldn’t maintain eye contact. Neve went on. “She’d been right to complain about spending so much money on a child that wasn’t hers.” Maybe she said that to hurt Missy, maybe because she’d come to believe it was true. Either way, she didn’t regret putting it out there. “So I worked my butt off to make the gymnastics a good investment.”
She’d considered quitting, until clearheaded Brooke pointed out that working hard in school and at gymnastics and earning a full scholarship to college would be the same as paying her parents back and was much more productive than acting out, looking for love and acceptance in all the wrong places—which Neve had managed to do anyway.
“What’s your degree in?” Rory asked.
“Teaching.” Like Brooke. “Elementary education with a certificate in early childhood education.” Because she’d thought learning to teach little kids simple things would be easier than learning to teach older kids hard things.
“How did you get these?” Neve asked Missy, but even more important, “And why?”
“My sister and I have had some contact since that nasty altercation in her kitchen.” A shocker, that. “I asked for pictures, and these are what she sent. As for why, because you’re my daughter.” She placed her hand on Neve’s shoulder. “Of course I’d want to have pictures of you up on my wall. I’m proud of you.”
That word again. Proud. Neve fought the urge to shake off Missy’s touch. Luckily, Aiden created an effective diversion.
“Can we eat now?” he whined.
“Yes, we can eat now.” Missy smiled at her son, seeming almost relieved to escape to the kitchen. “Why don’t you show your sister and her friend where they’ll be sitting at the table?”
His half sister, but Neve didn’t clarify, overcome by…something. All this time she’d thought her birth-mother had dumped her and forgotten about her. Yet she hadn’t. And Neve existed on the wall as part of this family she was meeting for the first time today.
“You okay?” Rory put his arm around her shoulders.
She nodded, looking straight ahead. “It’s all a bit much.” She turned to face him. “I’m really glad you decided to come with me.” No way she could have handled this on her own.
He leaned in and kissed her temple. “I’m really glad I came too.”
Dinner wasn’t as uncomfortable as it could have been. Aiden asked Rory all sorts of questions about being a soldier, and he happily answered every single one, making jokes, keeping things light, when Neve knew how difficult his last tour of duty had been for him. Turned out Rodger was a CPA. With Aiden’s illness, Missy didn’t work a regular schedule. But she handled all of Rodger’s billing and payables.
“Everything is delicious,” Neve said, tempted to take another ladleful of sumptuous gravy for her turkey but resisting, because splurging on some extra calories was one thing, gluttony was something else entirely.
Rodger finished the last bit of food on his plate and said, “My wife is a fantastic cook.”
“I didn’t start out that way.” Missy smiled.
Rory reached for another fresh-baked roll and used it to sop up all the extra gravy on his plate. Neve wanted to pinch him. Hard. But then he asked, “How did you two meet?” And Neve decided to turn her attention to the answer to that excellent question rather than Rory’s ability to eat mass quantities of unhealthy food without seeming to gain any weight at all.
Missy and Rodger shared a glance. “Tell her,” he said quietly. “Come on, Aiden.” He stood. “Let’s give your mother and Neve some girl time. We can watch football while we digest and rest up for dessert.”
At the mention of dessert, Aiden popped out of his seat and ran into the living room.
Rory also stood. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
“You can hear this,” Missy said.
“But…” he pointed to the living room, “football.”
Missy smiled. “Go on.” She shooed him away, then picked up her glass of Cabernet and took a sip. Looking down at her place setting, she said, “You know, they say some people have to hit rock bottom before they can turn their life around. Rock bottom for me came the night I visited my sister’s home, threatening to make trouble in your life if she didn’t give me money. I’d gotten myself into a dangerous situation and was desperate for a way out.” She lifted her eyes to look at Neve. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for that night, for the way you found out you were adopted.”
Neve nodded, because really, what was there to say? It’s okay. No harm done. Both would have been lies.
“You should know that even though I gave you up, you were conceived in love. You weren’t some awful mistake.”
Did it matter? Yes, surprisingly, it did.
“I loved your father very much.”
An image of Missy and Neve’s father popped into her head. Yikes. “You mean my birth-father.”
Missy nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, your birth-father. We were young, stupid in love, wanting to be on our own but not ready to be parents or handle adult responsibilities.” She twirled a wine cork. “Pregnancy hormones,” she glanced at Neve with a little smile. “At least I’ve always blamed the pregnancy hormones for turning me into a raging…” she lowered her voice to whisper, “…bitch. He left when I was seven months pregnant.”
“I’m sorry” seemed like the right thing to say, so Neve said it.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Do you know where he is?” Neve asked, hoping Missy didn’t, because if she did know, then Neve would feel obliged to go looking for him. And having one birth-parent and one other family was proving difficult enough.
“I’m sorry.” She reached for Neve’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “A few days before you were born I received word he’d died of an overdose.”
She waited to feel something, but felt nothing.
“We weren’t good people.” Missy shook her head. “Please trust me when I tell you that giving you to my sister was the best thing I could have done for you.”
Neve didn’t believe that. “You should have tried.”
“I did.”
“You should have tried harder.” Neve moved her hand out from beneath Missy’s. “Longer than a week.”
Missy looked down at her lap, her fingers playing with the cloth napkin that rested there. “You’re right. I should have. But I didn’t. I take full responsibility for the choice I made, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.” She let out a breath. “I’m a different person now. Today, even a few years ago, I would have handled things much differently.”
“How did you do it?” Neve needed to know. “How did you change your life so completely?”
“With the money your parents gave me—which Rodger and I paid back, by the way—I moved to a new town, Little Crimpton, Rhode Island, population one thousand one hundred and seven, at least back then.” She leaned back in her chair seeming lost in memory. “So different from where I’d been, it might as well have been on another continent. I left my job, all my friends, and everything familiar behind, and didn’t tell anyone where I was going. Only my nice upstairs neighbor knew, because it was her sister who took me in, which
leads me to how I met Rodger.”
The guys cheered at a play on the television. Rory leaned over to give Aiden a high-five. After the interruption, Missy continued. “My neighbor’s sister convinced me I couldn’t truly put my past behind me and move on until I came to terms with it and forgave myself for all the bad decisions I’d made.” She looked at Neve. “So I started attending a bereavement group at her church to finally deal with losing you.”
She hadn’t really lost Neve; she’d voluntarily given her away. She’d known exactly where she was, could have visited at any time, yet chose not to.
Neve had been thinking the worst of her birth-mother for so long, she automatically wondered if Missy had actually joined that group looking to find a vulnerable man to latch on to, someone who’d take care of her and make her life easier. “He doesn’t seem your type.”
Missy smiled, not taking the words as the accusation Neve had intended them to be. “It wasn’t love at first sight, that’s for sure. He was dealing with the loss of his first wife after a long illness. I recognized him from the diner where I’d been working at the time.” Missy shrugged. “We became friends. Our relationship grew from there. And when he decided to leave town and start over somewhere new, I went with him.”
“Does he know about your past? I mean, other than me?”
Missy glanced into the living room, then quietly said, “Not everything, but all the important things, good and bad. I loved him and didn’t want there to be secrets between us. I didn’t want to live my life worrying about my past catching up to me. It has a way of doing that.”
“And he loved you, despite everything?”
This time when she looked toward her husband it was with pure love in her eyes. “He’s a wonderful man. I’m lucky he loves me as much as he does.”
“I’m glad you were able to turn your life around and find happiness,” Neve said, surprised she actually meant it. Today had answered so many questions, filled in so many blanks, making her feel oddly content.
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