Forgiving Natalie

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Forgiving Natalie Page 9

by Kristin Noel Fischer


  “Thank you.” I smiled. “Actually, I just read an internet article about the nine things that make you unlikable. Number two was over-sharing with a person you just met.”

  Tamara burst out laughing. “Isn’t that the truth? People have no filter these days. Have you noticed that? You ask them out for a cup of coffee, and the next thing you know, they’re telling you how they cheated on their taxes last year.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said, thinking my own backstory was way worse than deceiving the IRS.

  “Maybe we should just stick to talking about kids and the weather,” Tamara suggested.

  I smiled, appreciating her easygoing attitude. If I wasn’t on my way to jail, I could imagine the two of us becoming friends.

  “Mommy, I’m hungry.” June gripped the edge of the stroller and lunged forward in an attempt to make the stroller move. “Let’s go.”

  “Okay, June bug, we’re going.” Tamara smiled at me. “You should join us. We’re headed to Sears for breakfast.”

  “Sears? The place that sells appliances and hammers?”

  Tamara laughed. “No, Sears Fine Food. It’s a restaurant on Powell. Have you not been there yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then you have to come. They have the best Swedish pancakes in the world.”

  My first inclination was to politely decline. I had a lot of work to do before I went back to Chicago. Plus, what was the point?

  It wasn’t like Tamara and I could become real friends. The demons of my past forced me to keep my distance. The last people I’d been close to were Uncle Leo, Janet, and Gage—people who were no longer in my life. Well, Gage was now back in my life, but it obviously wasn’t the same.

  The baby woke and started wailing. Tamara gave the stroller a little jiggle, but that just made Eric cry harder.

  “Eric!” June spun around to see why her baby brother was crying. As she did, she tipped her juice box, causing it to spill down her shirt. “I wet,” she cried, bursting into tears. “I wet.”

  In a perfectly calm manner, Tamara picked up her youngest and handed him to me. “Do you mind holding him for a minute?”

  “I’d love to.” It’d been years since I held a baby, especially one who was screaming his head off like Eric, but it all came back to me. Gently, I bounced the baby in my arms and swayed back and forth. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay. You don’t have to cry. I’ve got you.”

  To my surprise, he actually listened to me and stopped crying. He shoved his fist in his mouth and began sucking on it. Then, he looked at me, stopped sucking, and gave a huge smile.

  My heart melted. Memories of holding Dash as a sweet baby washed over me. No wonder I hadn’t been able to give him up.

  At this age, Dash had been completely dependent on me. I’d been completely dependent on him, too. Contacting Gage and allowing him to take Dash away from me hadn’t been an option.

  Tamara cleaned her daughter the best she could with a wet wipe. After June settled down, Tamara winked at me. “All righty, crisis number thirty-five of the day solved. Now, what about you, Eric?”

  The baby kicked his legs and reached for his mama. Tamara took him from me, kissed his fat cheek, and plopped him back in the stroller. “So, you’ll come to Sears with us for Swedish pancakes?”

  I nodded. “I’d love to.”

  We headed down the steep sidewalk toward Union Square, chatting about kids and various upcoming school events. “The best way to meet parents at the school is to volunteer,” Tamara explained. “We need a ton of help for the upcoming musical. And I’m not just saying that because I’m in charge of the whole thing.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “I showed up for the meeting thinking I could help out with refreshments, and I left being in charge of everything. Nobody else would do it, but now the critics are coming out of the woodwork to complain.”

  “That’s never fun.”

  “No, but whenever somebody tries to tell me what to do, I just give them a job.”

  “Good solution.”

  “It’s working so far.” Tamara smiled. “So, what about you? Do you have any complaints or thoughtful suggestions?”

  I laughed. “No, ma’am. No complaints or thoughtful suggestions.”

  “Hmm . . . what about a job just for fun? I could find you something easy to do, like sell tickets at the door or work the raffle.”

  Although I hadn’t planned on volunteering at Dash’s new school, I found myself agreeing to help with the raffle. “As long as I’m still here—”

  “As long as you’re still here?” Tamara frowned. “Are you planning on going somewhere?”

  “No, I meant . . . I don’t know why I said that. I’m just loopy from lack of sleep.”

  “Well, let’s get you some coffee, then.” Tamara stopped the stroller in front of the restaurant.

  I was surprised by how unimpressive Sears looked from the outside. Had I been alone with Dash, I never would’ve thought about eating here.

  Inside, the atmosphere wasn’t anything special, but the food smelled delicious. Once seated, Tamara helped June into a booster seat before picking up Eric to nurse him. The waitress arrived with coffee and took our order for pancakes, sausage, and fruit.

  After she left, I asked Tamara how long she’d lived in San Francisco.

  “Ten years. My husband and I did our residencies here and loved the city so much we stayed. Sometimes we talk about moving in order to have a little more space for the kids, but it’d break my heart to leave the city.”

  “I know what you mean.” I thought about the morning Gage and I had left San Francisco after our honeymoon. If not for Uncle Leo, our jobs, and our life in Chicago, I would’ve stayed in California. “So, you and your husband are both doctors?”

  “That’s right.” Tamara took a sip of her coffee. “After June was born, I cut back my hours to just one day a week. Working so little has been a huge adjustment both financially and emotionally, but I’m glad we’re in a position to do that. Kids grow up so fast, you know?”

  “I know.” I suddenly felt nervous, as if Tamara’s medical degree would somehow give her insight into my past.

  “Sheela!” June shouted, pointing across the restaurant.

  I followed the little girl’s gaze and sucked in a sharp breath as Sheela Murphy came toward us. What in the world was Sheela Murphy doing in San Francisco, and how did Tamara’s daughter know her?

  Bouncing up and down in her chair, June clapped and repeated, “Sheela, Sheela, Sheela.”

  “Hi, June,” Sheela said in that overexaggerated voice adults sometimes used with kids.

  June squealed with delight. Tamara was a little more reserved. “Good morning, Sheela. What are you doing here?”

  Sheela motioned behind her at a group of men in business suits waiting to be seated. “School board meeting.”

  Tamara nodded and gestured toward me. “This is Natalie Jones. She just moved here from Chicago with her son, Dash.”

  Sheela’s eyes widened at the sight of me. I offered a tentative smile, feeling nauseous at seeing her again.

  “Gage told me you were here last night,” Sheela said, her voice tight.

  He didn’t tell me you were here. I stared at her, too stunned to do anything else.

  “Do you two know each other from Chicago?” Tamara asked.

  “You could say that,” Sheela said.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but before anything could come out, Sheela said, “I need to get back to my meeting.” Without saying anything else, she turned and left. I released the breath I’d been holding but felt no relief.

  “What was that about?” Tamara asked.

  “I’m sorry.” I pushed back my chair, desperate to leave the restaurant.

  “Don’t go.” Tamara grabbed my arm before I could stand. “I don’t know what happened between you two but don’t let my sister-in-law win by leaving.”

  “Your sister-in-law?”


  Tamara nodded. “I’m married to Sheela’s older brother, Charlie.”

  *

  Seeing Sheela at the restaurant, shook me to the core. Finding out Tamara and Sheela were related by marriage made things even worse. How could it be that my only friend in San Francisco was Sheela’s sister-in-law?

  My presence must have upset Sheela, too, because instead of staying for her meeting, she left the restaurant. The group of professionals she’d arrived with followed her out the door.

  June waved a chubby hand. “Bye, bye, Sheela.”

  Tamara patted June’s shoulder and shifted baby Eric. “What was that about?”

  I just shook my head.

  “You don’t have to tell me, but Sheela and my husband are pretty close. She’s going to tell me all about you. I guess what I’m saying is I’d like to hear your side of the story. If you want to tell me, that is.”

  I smoothed down the napkin in my lap. “It’s such a mess.”

  Tamara offered a sympathetic sigh. “Most things involving Sheela usually are. She can be kind one moment, then cut you down the next. I’ve had my struggles with her too.”

  I smiled, feeling I had an ally in Tamara. Hesitating, I asked if Sheela and Gage were dating.

  “Who knows,” Tamara answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  She took a sip of her coffee. “Well, they grew up together. Their mothers are best friends and have always tried to push Sheela and Gage together. Gage is always Sheela’s plus-one for various events, but I don’t think she’d hesitate to drop him if someone she liked better came along.”

  “Ouch,” I said, wondering why Gage allowed Sheela to treat him like that.

  “I think she really likes him,” Tamara said. “But she’d also like to get married and have kids one day. I just don’t think Gage would ever marry her.”

  “Why not?”

  Tamara narrowed her eyes. “Why are you asking all these questions about Sheela and Gage? Why—” Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh. You’re Natalie. You’re the Natalie that used to be married to Gage.”

  “You know about me?”

  She laughed. “Of course, I know about you. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out. No wonder Sheela wasn’t too happy to see you. Is that why you moved here? Because of Gage?”

  I bit my lip and told Tamara I’d come so Gage and Dash could meet. “Until last night, Gage didn’t know about Dash.”

  “Why not? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you tell Gage about Dash?”

  I pushed out a slow breath. “It’s a long story. I never meant to keep Dash a secret for so long. It just happened.”

  “Wow.” Tamara sat back in her chair, her mouth open.

  “Wow, what?” June asked.

  Tamara distracted her daughter by cutting another pancake for her. “And don’t forget to eat your fruit.”

  “I won’t,” June said.

  “Good.” Tamara looked back at me. “So, Dash is Gage’s son. Now that I think about it, I can see the resemblance.”

  I looked down at my pancakes that had grown soggy with syrup. “I really hope it’s not too late for them to have a good relationship. I want them to be close.”

  “Of course, you do.” Tamara patted Eric’s back. “I imagine it was difficult facing Gage after all these years.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “How did he react?”

  “Better than I thought. He was shocked and upset that I’d kept Dash a secret for so long, but he also said he wants to spend time with Dash and get to know him.”

  “Of course, he does. Dash is his son, and given the way Gage interacts with the kids at the gym, I’m sure he’ll be an amazing father.”

  “I hope so.”

  Tamara was silent for a beat. “Sheela isn’t going to make things easy for you. You know that, right? She’s always been insanely jealous of you.”

  “Jealous of me? I don’t think so. She’s gorgeous and successful and has everything. Why would she ever be jealous of me?”

  “You have Gage’s heart.”

  My stomach dropped. I shook my head. “That might’ve been true once upon a time but—”

  “No, it’s still true now. Gage might not admit it, but he’s never gotten over his first wife. He’s never gotten over you, Natalie.”

  Chapter 17

  Natalie – 2017

  In the afternoon, I met Gage at a cafe in North Beach to discuss Dash. We took a seat by the window and both ordered coffee.

  “I talked to my mom last night,” Gage said, beginning the conversation.

  “What’d she say?” My stomach clenched. I knew Gage’s father had passed away, but his mother was still very much alive. After our divorce and the death of Gage’s dad, the family company had been sold for an undisclosed amount, giving both Miriam and Gage enough money to live a comfortable life.

  “My mom doesn’t believe Dash is my son. She thinks you’re just after my money and I should demand a paternity test.”

  I bristled. Of course, that’s what Miriam thought. “Dash is your son, but you’re certainly welcome to do a paternity test if you don’t believe me.”

  “I will to please my lawyer, but I already know he’s mine.” Reaching into his bag, he removed a photograph and handed it to me. “This was me when I was Dash’s age.”

  Amazed, I stared at the faded picture taken at Wrigley Field. “Dash looks exactly like you did. He even has the same pattern of freckles you had across your nose.”

  Gage started to smile but stopped himself. “What’s going on, Natalie?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I asked you last night, and I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”

  I held perfectly still. “I told you. I wanted you and Dash to have a chance to meet.”

  “But why now?”

  I shrugged and handed him back the photo. “I don’t know.”

  He locked eyes with me. “Is something going on? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  My heart hammered violently. The truth was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it back. I wasn’t ready for Gage to know I’d soon be giving him full custody of Dash. I needed a little more time with my son.

  Grasping for a reasonable explanation, I said, “I guess I just felt that Dash was getting to that age where he really needed a father.”

  Pain took hold of Gage’s face. “He’s always needed a father. Kids need their dads regardless of their age.”

  “I know. You’re right. I shouldn’t have kept him from you, and I’m sorry. I know my apology doesn’t fix things, but I really am sorry.”

  The loud clanging of a cable car heading up Powell Street had both of us looking out the window. I watched the gripman ring his bell to warn a group of pedestrians not to cross the street.

  “I just want a chance to get to know my son,” Gage said, repeating what he’d told me last night.

  “I want that, too. Honestly, I do.”

  “Good.” Reaching back into his bag, he removed a file folder. “I spoke to my lawyer this morning and asked what was reasonable given the situation. I’m sure you’ll want to consult your own counsel, but these are some issues important to me regarding Dash.”

  I stared down at Gage’s papers. He’d spoken to a lawyer? Was he planning on taking Dash away from me?

  Gage was all business as he flipped through the document, pointing out various paragraphs. “This part states you won’t take Dash out of the Bay Area without first informing me.”

  I stared at the words limiting my freedom. I wasn’t planning on taking Dash anywhere, but I suddenly felt trapped and wanted to run. Was it too late to leave? I couldn’t go back to Chicago, but maybe I could take Dash to Mexico and—

  And what? Continue living in fear that the police would track me down and arrest me in front of Dash? I squeezed my eyes tight, blocking out the horrible childhood memory that defined me.

  I’d made my “to-do” list to
avoid such a scenario, so I was staying put. I wanted Dash’s last memory of me before going to jail to be peaceful. I imagined taking him to the beach and explaining how I needed to go away for a little while. He’d be upset, but I’d remind him that his father would take care of him. Hopefully, by that time, Dash would feel comfortable with Gage.

  Interrupting my thoughts, Gage pressed on, highlighting the important aspects of his legal document. “This paragraph states that Dash will participate in the after-school program at no cost to you.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I snapped, my tone defensive. “He can come to the gym, but I’ll pay for it. I don’t need you to cover my bills.”

  Gage put up his hands in surrender. “You can continue covering that bill if you want, but all employees of Firehouse Fitness and their immediate families are allowed to participate in any activity free of charge. It’s our company’s policy, not a comment on your ability to provide for Dash.”

  “Oh.” I suddenly felt foolish for overreacting. Why was I being so difficult? Because I was scared? Because Gage seemed disappointed in me? Of course, Gage was disappointed in me. By keeping his son a secret, I’d once again betrayed his trust.

  Forcing my attention back to the paperwork, I read the second page. “What’s this about Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

  Gage sat forward. “I want Dash to have dinner with me those nights. He’ll be at the gym for basketball anyway. I thought it would be an easy way to start spending time with him. I know it’s a school night, so I’ll help him with his homework and bring him home early.”

  “Okay.” I knew I had no right to refuse Gage dinner with his son. Gage wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable. Still, eating dinner with Dash was my favorite part of the day. Giving that up two nights a week wasn’t going to be easy.

  Wringing my hands, I looked across the table at Gage. “Is there anything else?”

  His eyes met mine for a brief second before looking away. “I’d like him to spend the night eventually, but we can wait on that until you’re ready.”

  Gage’s phone buzzed with a call. Glancing down, he sent it straight to voicemail. “I’ll leave these papers with you. I’d appreciate it if you could sign them and get them back to me as soon as possible.”

 

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