The Switch

by Heather Justesen

  He gave her a steady look and wished he’d picked a different word. Still, he wasn’t going to back down. “If the shoe fits.” He grabbed her hand as she stood and tried to move away. He tugged it and pulled her onto his lap. “Don’t do that. Don’t walk away when we’re having a disagreement.”

  “Call it what it is. We’re fighting.” She held herself stiff, so she didn’t lean against him, but she didn’t try to stand, either.

  “Maybe, but walking away isn’t going to solve things.”

  “I don’t know if anything can solve things.”

  His jaw tightened and he took a slow, measured breath before continuing, not wanting to react to the words and how much they hurt him, but choosing to act on the pain that caused her to say it. “Last fall a few heated words ended my relationship with Carrie, and I let her go, almost relieved to see the end of things. I’m not going to stand by and watch us fall apart. You’re too important to me.”

  She stilled in his arms. “I’m too important to you? It sounds like it.”

  “Hey.” He waited until she turned her head to face him. “I’m not saying that what you feel isn’t important to me, that I’m not going to do everything in my power to stay safe, but I’m a paramedic firefighter. It’s part of who I am—like cooking is part of who you are—even though you could get burns, poisoning, or another severe allergic reaction.” He held her gaze. “It’s what I studied for, and I love it. Don’t make me choose between you and my career. Either way, I lose.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then dug down and said the words that had been on the tip of his tongue for too long. “I love you, Tia.”

  Her breath caught and she stared as if she didn’t believe him. “You love me? But we haven’t known each other that long.”

  “Long enough. All I know is it would rip me apart to lose you. Please don’t do this.”

  She tipped her forehead onto his shoulder. A long moment passed. “I like you the way you are. I don’t want you to change. It just scares me.”

  He felt that knot of tension in his stomach release. “I know it does. I promise, if I ever develop a heart condition, I’ll quit my job and become a greeter at Wal-Mart. If you develop another dangerous food allergy, you’ll quit your cooking show and become a cashier somewhere.”

  She chuckled. “About equally likely, I take it?”

  “The odds are slightly more likely that I’ll develop a heart condition—in another forty years or so.”

  “Well, as long as we understand each other.” She lifted her head and ended the conversation with a kiss.

  Thirty-three

  Tia was nervous. Claire was supposed to arrive any moment, and Tia was afraid things wouldn’t go nearly as well as Claire expected. The woman had been oozing excitement every time they’d spoken—which had been daily since Tia got her phone running again.

  The test kit had actually arrived on Saturday and Tia had gotten together with her dad to get his DNA sample that night.

  Ron seemed to be dealing with everything fine. If she went more than a few days between calls or emails, he would contact her, check to see how she was doing. She appreciated his support, especially since Mona was being so difficult.

  Because Mona was being . . . herself, Tia thought, they hadn’t mentioned Claire’s arrival, nor had Mona take the DNA test. If Ron matched, that would be enough proof and she would deal with it then.

  Tia checked the pizza again through the oven window and noticed it hadn’t browned noticeably in the past thirty seconds. She stood, telling herself not to be an idiot as she walked back to the living room. Samantha and Tristi were at Nichole’s and they’d be staying there all evening. Danny and Wes would be by a little later, and she had made arrangements for Claire to meet Ron the next day.

  The doorbell rang and Tia jumped slightly. She opened the front door to find a woman on the other side. Claire was shorter than Tia expected, around five-foot-three with straight black hair, an eyebrow piercing, and a visible butterfly tattoo on her upper right arm. Her smile was broad and her blue eyes danced with excitement. The heavy black eyeliner wasn’t nearly as attention-getting as the black leather micro-mini skirt and black lacey tank top that peeked from beneath the woman’s black marshmallow coat. Seeing all the exposed skin, Tia wondered if she wanted Danny to join them after all before pushing the thought away.

  “You must be Tia,” Claire said, her voice as bright as her smile.

  “Yes, welcome, Claire, come on in.” She gestured through the doorway and stepped back for the other woman to enter.

  They went to the kitchen where Tia had prepared a green salad to go with dinner. “How was your trip?”

  “It was fine, a little long, you know? I was tired when it was time to come here, even though I was totally excited, but one of those energy drinks totally took care of that. I’ll probably be wired for hours now.” She looked around the room. “Where are your girls?”

  “At the neighbors’. I thought it would be better if we didn’t have too many interruptions tonight.” Tia pulled out four plates from the bone china set she’d inherited from Mona’s mother—who could be Claire’s grandma. She wondered, if the tests came back positive, should she pass the dishes to the rightful grandchild? The thought made her sad; she’d loved Nana so much. She brushed the subject aside. There would be time to consider those kinds of implications later, when Claire wasn’t already talking as fast as a freight train.

  “I totally understand. They aren’t really my nieces, anyway, so how would you explain?” She studied the plates Tia set in front of her, a little disconcerted. “Are these family heirlooms?”

  “They were a gift to me,” Tia answered, not willing to explain. Claire seemed so ready to jump into things.

  Claire looked almost relieved. “They’re nice, I guess, but totally not my style.” She folded her arms on the tabletop and leaned forward. “So you mentioned your boyfriend was coming tonight.”

  “Yes, he and Wes will be here soon.” The doorbell rang and Tia smiled in relief. Claire appeared to feel no awkwardness at all, but Tia couldn’t shake it. “That’s probably one of them now.”

  She hurried to the door and let Wes in. “Hey, welcome. Claire’s already here.”

  “Good. What about the firefighter?” Wes asked as he gave her a quick hug.

  “Not yet. Any time now.” Tia checked her watch, it wasn’t quite six.

  She followed Wes back to the kitchen where he introduced himself to Claire. Tia turned her attention to the oven, smiling when she saw a nice golden brown on the edges of the crust. She reached for her oven mitts as she listened to Claire and Wes go through the motions, asking the pleasant and polite questions you posed to someone the first time you met.

  After Tia set the pizza pan on the cookie rack to cool for a few minutes, she turned and studied Wes and Claire. They didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable. Wes sat beside the woman who could be his sister, chatting amiably, asking questions about her work and her fiancé. Tia wasn’t sure how she felt about the instant report. Could she really be replaced so easily?

  She spent another minute looking for a resemblance between them—any resemblance. Not all siblings looked alike, she told herself, but there did seem to be a similarity around the eyes and nose. When Claire flashed a bright smile, Tia thought it looked much like Ron’s, and her heart sank in her chest.

  The doorbell rang, and Tia hurried to the living room, glad to get away. She knew she was being stupid. She’d been looking for the woman who could be Wes’s true sister, so why was she suddenly feeling territorial?

  She smiled as she opened the door for Danny, who brought a tub of ice cream with him. “Hey, honey,” He scooped her close with his free arm and kissed her soundly.

  When he released her, she looked at the ice cream. “We’re not having pancakes tonight. I thought I told you it’s pizza.”

  He chuckled and turned her back to the kitchen, his arm still around her shoulder. “Well I wouldn’t want to try pu
tting ice cream on pizza—that would be plain gross. Especially fudge ripple. I guess it’ll have to be dessert instead.”

  He smiled and introduced himself to both Claire and Wes, and slid the ice cream into the freezer as if he belonged in that space, Tia’s home, with her. She thought of his declaration of love and wondered if she would be able to make herself take that step and really let him in.

  * * *

  Though Claire had checked into a motel, she hung around after the guys left that night. Tia put the girls to bed and then returned to where Claire was flipping through the television stations with the remote.

  “All set?” she asked.

  “Yeah. That should guarantee us at least . . . ” Tia pulled a likely number out of the air, “Three minutes before the first disruption. Ten if we’re really lucky.” She stood in the room entrance with her thumbs in her back pockets.

  Claire chuckled. “The joys of motherhood.”

  “Would you like something to drink?” Tia asked. They’d spent the evening answering lots of questions for Claire, but Tia had a few of her own. “I make the world’s best hot chocolate.”

  “Well, how could I turn down the world’s best?”

  Tia tipped her head toward the kitchen and watched Claire click the television off and rise to follow.

  Tia got out cocoa, sugar and powdered milk and set them on the counter.

  Claire stared at her. “You’re going to make cocoa from scratch?”

  “Yeah. I like it better than anything I can find prepackaged.”

  “I knew you were into cooking and stuff, but I’ve never met anyone who makes hot cocoa from scratch. Does you mom cook like you do?”

  Tia laughed and reached for a sauce pan. “Not even close. I learned to cook to keep from starving—she prefers eating out, or heating something frozen. Her mom cooked pretty well, though. She’s the one who taught me the basics. The rest I learned on my own.” She measured in water to boil, then added sugar and cocoa.

  Claire watched her for a long moment. “I don’t know anyone like you. Our worlds are completely different.”

  “Yeah, they seem to be.” Tia pulled out a wire whisk and mixed everything up. “So tell me about your family.”

  “I wondered when you’d get around to asking.” Claire took the stool nearby and watched. “I have a sister, Marie, she’s four years younger than me and my parents’ favorite. She went to college and got a teaching certificate last spring. She works with disabled children.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yeah.” Claire’s tone indicated there was major sibling rivalry there. “Everyone loves her.”

  “And you? Do the two of you get along?”

  “Fine,” Claire said with a shrug. “We have so little in common, and with four years between us, we didn’t do any of the same things growing up. I mean,” she grabbed the salt shaker from the counter and started fiddling with it, “we have nothing in common. She’s the perfect daughter, and I’m a screw up. She did great in college and I barely made it through my CNA. I keep thinking of going back to school for more medical training, but I don’t think I’ve got it in me. I hated school.”

  “And your parents? You haven’t really talked about them.” Tia had tried not to be curious about Claire’s family, but couldn’t help herself. The thought that these could be her parents was terrifying.

  Claire shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve never really been good enough for them—but I didn’t want to fit their mold.” She looked back at Tia. “My parents hate the way I dress and do my hair and makeup. I think I went a little to the left because they expected me to hold right.”

  “Parents’ expectations can be hard.” Tia looked back at the mixture in her pan. “And their idiosyncrasies can be frustrating. My mom is a little . . . needy. And she worries over every little thing. That’s how this all started, actually. I had a bad reaction to pine nuts for a dish I was developing for my show, and ended up in the hospital.”

  Claire’s eyes grew round with surprise. “That must have been scary.”

  “Yeah. Mom decided I must get medic alert bracelets for the girls and myself in case we ever needed a blood transfusion or something.” She gave a brief explanation about what happened from there—leaving out the bit about the infidelity. There would be time to mention that when they knew absolutely that Claire was related.

  Before Claire left for her hotel that night, she did the cheek swab. Once she had driven off in her little blue clunker, Tia sealed the envelope and clipped it to her front door. She would take the package to the post office on her way to work.

  Thirty-four

  When Tia had a break between preparing for the noon segment and the filming, she called her dad to discuss the previous night’s events.

  “Hey, honey,” he greeted her when he picked up his cell phone. “How did the meeting go with Claire?”

  “Fine. She seems nice. A tad rough around the edges, with way too much energy, but that could have been nerves talking. Have you spoken with Wes this morning?”

  “No. Did they get along all right?”

  “Yes, just fine. You know Wes, he gets along with everyone.” Better than she did anyway.

  “So what’s eating at you?” he asked.

  Tia moved to a more private corner of the room and lowered her voice even more. “Maybe it’s stupid, but it made me feel kind of unnecessary last night. She’s so determined that she’s the one that it actually made me feel like the third wheel.”

  “Do you think she’s the one?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. There is a little resemblance with Wes, I guess, if I look for it, but it’s not obvious. I kept finding things that didn’t fit, rather than things that did.” Tia leaned against the wall. “But then I wonder if that’s because I didn’t want her to be your daughter.”

  “Is there something wrong with her?”

  Tia laughed. “No, not really, though as a heads up, she leans toward goth. Lots of black and a kind of cool looking butterfly tattoo on one shoulder—not that I care for tattoos, but anyway . . .” She was getting off topic. “Claire seems nice, and though she made it clear she didn’t get on with her family, she didn’t say they were jerks or anything, just that she didn’t fit in. Honestly, I don’t know that she’ll fit into this one all that well either, but there’ll be time to think about that when the results come back.” She just had to keep reminding herself to be patient.

  “Are you feeling threatened, honey? That she’s trying to move in on your territory?”

  It made Tia feel small to admit it, but she wasn’t about to lie. “A bit, perhaps. I know that’s stupid, but I guess I’m feeling a little lost right now.”

  “It’s understandable, but she can’t replace you honey. I kind of like the idea of having two daughters.”

  Tia chuckled again, her fears not screaming so loud anymore, then heard the notice that they would begin filming soon. “I gotta go. I feel better now. I’ll see you in a few hours?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  * * *

  The meet with Ron had gone well, though Tia could tell Claire felt sad about the way he held himself back a little. Tia felt bad about the other woman’s hurt, but she wondered if her dad was trying to spare her own feelings, if he was uncomfortable with Claire or if he didn’t want to get too close before he knew for sure if they were related.

  When Claire left that evening, she gave Tia a hug. “You’ve been great. I really appreciate you letting me burst into your life like this. I like your family, your girls are adorable, and that is some hunk you’re dating. You ought to snatch him up!”

  Tia smiled when she thought about Danny. “I’ll keep that in mind. Drive safe.”

  “I will. And I have the login information for the test results. Do you think we’ll have them by the weekend?” She looked so hopeful.

  “Probably not. Sorry. I’m guessing middle of next week. Call if you find out before me?” Tia asked.

  �
�Yes, I’ll be checking it often.” Claire zipped her coat against the cold, covering her artfully ripped Led Zeplin T-shirt. “I’m glad I met you, either way. I want to keep in touch.”

  “We should do that.” If the results came back positive, Tia had a feeling keeping in touch would be inevitable. “Good luck with that wedding date stuff.”

  “Thanks. If the results come Wednesday, I know Carl’s going to insist on setting a date for the wedding by Friday. He’s so anxious.” She gave a little wave and disappeared into the tiny vehicle.

  Tia was still filled with conflicting emotions as she watched Claire drive off. She hadn’t heard from Lisa. Did that mean the letter hadn’t arrived, or that she didn’t think it worthwhile to respond?

  Tia turned back to the house, tightening her coat against the chilling wind and headed up the walk. They would know in a week, maybe less. There would be plenty of time to worry about Lisa after the results came in.

  Thirty-five

  Danny pulled in front of Tia’s grandma’s house and tried to quell the nerves bouncing around in his stomach. He’d now met Wes, Ron, and even Mona—briefly—but Tia had been holding back on taking him to Glena’s, which made this step seem much bigger than it should have.

  “Calm down. It’s fine. She’s going to love you,” Tia reassured him with a squeeze to his arm.

  He flashed her a grin that said of course Glena would love him, but it was false bravado. “Me, nervous? Since when?” He got out and came around to open her door, then circled back around the car to let Samantha out—the girl was bouncing, her seatbelt already off, and anxious to be released from the car. Tia freed Tristi from her car seat and carried her.

  Danny joined Tia at the sidewalk and she extended a hand. He took it, feeling comfort when she squeezed it. Samantha caught his hand on the other side, and he passed the squeeze along.

  The tiny woman smiled brightly when she responded to their knock on the front door, looked him up and down, then waggled her eyebrows at Tia. “You sure know how to pick ‘em!”