Pulled Beneath

by Marni Mann

  “I can try,” I said, glancing around the woods. “But I have no idea where we are.”

  She slid her hand into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “One of these apps will get us to civilization. And if not, I’m calling a fucking cab.”

  It was so good to have her with me again.

  ***

  I took Gianna to one of the pubs on Main Street. We sat in a booth across from the bar and ordered drinks. I even asked the bartender if he could spare any ice. Gianna’s bite really needed some numbing; it was huge and painful by then.

  “Your drinks,” he said, smiling, “and your anesthetic.”

  “My savior,” Gianna said. I wasn’t sure if she meant the ice, the wine, or the bartender. She pressed the ice to her neck and the wine glass to her lips. While she guzzled down the Pinot, I took a sip of my beer. My stomach couldn’t handle any chugging. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to drink. Before I had the chance to swallow, my phone started buzzing.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  Andy’s name appeared on the screen. I pressed a button to silence it. “My realtor.”

  “And you’re not going to answer it?”

  I shook my head.

  She dropped the ice, reached across the table and picked up the phone. “Hello?” I watched her face as she listened to him. Her nose scrunched and her eyes widened. “No, this is Gianna, her best friend. I’m so sorry. She picked me up from the airport and we…went for a walk… and she must have forgotten.”

  Forgotten?

  Damn. My meeting with Andy.

  He had scheduled one for the afternoon, to tie up some loose ends and discuss a timeline for finishing the renovations. The notebook had completely wiped my responsibilities from my mind.

  “Why don’t you guys come to us and we can talk about it over drinks?” she asked.

  I shook my head again and mouthed, “No.” I didn’t want a meeting with them today. I didn’t want to make any decisions or listen to their thoughts about the house or find out how much time I had left here in Maine. I just wanted to sit with my best friend and try to breathe. It had been far too long since I’d been able to do that.

  From the look on her face, I could tell it would be a while longer.

  “Perfect,” she chimed. I rolled my eyes. “We’re at…” she looked down at the coasters on the table, “The Brewery. We’ll see you soon.”

  The house was just a short drive from downtown, so they met us in no time. Andy slid in next to me and Shane took a seat in the booth beside Gianna. Gianna immediately introduced herself to Andy. She was smoothing things over for me, just as she’d done when she’d helped me fix my makeup in the car, though it wasn’t able to hide how swollen my eyes were or mask the emotion on my face. The men didn’t seem to notice, but I still had a feeling they knew something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like me to blow off an appointment or to be completely mute in their presence.

  “We’ll make this quick and painless,” Andy said. He placed a folder on the table and pulled out several pieces of paper with fixtures, lights, faucets, and doorknobs for us to choose from. “Which do you prefer? Small things, I know, but we need your sign-off to get them all taken care of.”

  I didn’t even bother to look at the photos. Gianna did it for me. I knew she’d pick the ones that would look the best. Instead I focused on the bartender approaching our table with a rag draped over his shoulder. I considered ordering a shot. I hadn’t really wanted to drink when we’d first gotten here, but the weight of everything was becoming overwhelming and the thought of something a bit stronger than beer sounded really good.

  “Andy,” the bartender said, “what can I get you?”

  Andy looked up from the table. “Just a water. Thanks, Joe.”

  “How about you, Shooter?” Joe asked.

  Shooter…

  My body stiffened. My heart raced as fast as it had during our walk. I gripped the edge of the table with both hands, squeezing, trying to push the words out of my mouth. “What…did he…just say?” My voice sounded like all the air had just been sucked out of my lungs.

  Everyone’s eyes turned to me.

  “He asked me if I wanted a drink,” Shane said. He glanced at Gianna and back to me. “Drew, are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

  “No,” I swallowed, my stomach beginning to churn, “what did he call you? That name…”

  “Oh, that,” Shane said, laughing. “He called me Shooter. It’s been my nickname since I was a kid. Only the older folks really call me that anymore.”

  I scanned his face as I’d done so many times before, but this time it was entirely different. The chocolate hair, the teal eyes, the narrow oval shaped head, the chin that was a little more pointed than it should have been, the small sloped nose. I may have looked strikingly like my mother, but the similarities between Shane and me were undeniable.

  My father…

  “Excuse me,” I said, gently pushing on Andy’s arm so he would let me out of the booth. I rushed to the bathroom and let the water from the faucet run over my hands. I dragged my wet fingers over my cheeks, my chin, the corners of my eyes…analyzing my reflection the same way I’d analyzed him.

  “Holy shit,” Gianna said, as she entered the bathroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay, Drew? I just…I can’t believe that happened.” I put my hand in the air so she’d know I needed a minute before she approached. She leaned against the wall of stalls behind me and watched my movements through the mirror. “You look like him. I wouldn’t have picked up on it without knowing who he is, but it’s so obvious now.”

  I rested my arms over the base of the sink and let it bear my weight, trying to focus on filling and releasing the air from my lungs and regaining the feeling in my limbs. Everything had gone numb, including my thoughts.

  “Do you know what this means?” she asked.

  “I do, yes…I can’t talk about it yet.”

  And really, I couldn’t. My father was the man who I’d seen almost every day since I’d arrived in Maine. He’d been in my house, chatting with me like a new friend. This whole time he’d had no idea, and neither had I. And I couldn’t even consider what else that meant and who else I was related to.

  Brady.

  My mind closed at the thought of his name.

  She slowly moved to my side without touching me. “You know, you should probably—”

  “No. Not a chance in hell.” I knew her well enough to know what she was thinking and I couldn’t believe she wanted me to do that.

  “But just think about it for a minute,” she said.

  I dipped my face under the faucet and took a mouthful of water. I swallowed and took another. “No way.”

  “Why would you wait to tell him? Right now is the perfect opportunity.”

  I leaned my back into the edge of the sink and crossed my arms over my chest. “Too much has happened today. I can’t handle any more.”

  “Drew, your father is sitting right out there and you’re not going to tell him you’re his daughter?”

  Shane was my father…

  How was this even possible?

  “You really think this is the right place to share this kind of news? That over twenty-two years ago, the girl he had sex with at a party one night had gotten pregnant with his child? And that she didn’t bother to tell him?”

  “I don’t think there is a right place,” she said calmly. “But I don’t know how you’ll be able to keep this to yourself. I wouldn’t be able to. And being that you’re furious with your mom for keeping this from you, do you really think it’s fair to do the same to Shane?” She reached her hand out, her fingers waiting for me to grab them.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe I would feel some tiny sense of relief if I told Shane everything that I had learned from my mom’s notebook.

  Maybe it was the truth I’d been searching for this whole time.

  “Okay.” I grasped her hand as she led me through the bathroom. I didn’t let go of
her until we reached the table. The men just slid over to make room for us on the outside of the booth.

  “Everything okay?” Shane asked. I kept my eyes on Gianna, but I felt Shane staring at me. Andy, too. I could hear my breathing, my heart, the trembling in my stomach, and that’s what I focused on.

  When no one answered, Andy said, “Why don’t we reschedule this meeting, Drew? Looks like this might not be the best time for you. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can figure out when to reconvene.”

  I slowly glanced to my side, taking in the concern that covered his face. “Thank you, Andy. I appreciate that.”

  I got on my feet so he could exit the booth. He patted my shoulder, his eyes soft and understanding, obviously realizing I could use the tenderness. The three of us watched him walk out of the bar.

  “I’ll go too, then,” Shane offered.

  “No!” Gianna shouted. “Sorry. I mean…you probably want to stay.”

  I sat down again, my gaze gradually shifting across the table. I was afraid to look at him, afraid of how I’d react when I stared into his eyes.

  My father’s eyes.

  So I started off slowly, my focus creeping around his face. His lips were full like mine, the bottom one slightly larger than the top. We had the same highlights, copper and bronze tones that peeked out from our dark strands. The same nose.

  Gianna’s hands rustled under the table as she placed the notebook in front of Shane. “What you found in the floorboards was Rebecca’s diary.”

  Shane kept his hands still and his eyes on me. “I thought it might be.”

  “Drew…” Gianna said, reminding me I needed to speak, too.

  I took a deep breath and reached for my beer, downing everything that was left in the glass. I didn’t even feel the chill of the liquid or the bubbles burning the back of my throat.

  “We read some of it,” Gianna continued. “She described…that thing… that happened between you two.”

  He sighed and traced the grooves on the table with his thumb. “I know we talked about your family, Drew, and I’m sorry I left that part out. I really believed what happened between your mom and me was a detail you didn’t need to know.”

  “Ordinarily, I would have agreed,” I said. I was surprised by the sound of my voice and how easily it was to speak those words. “But in this case, it actually does matter.”

  He glanced from me to Gianna. “And why is that?”

  Gianna reached for the journal and opened it to the page that explained it all in my mom’s words. She set it back down on the table for him to read. He didn’t look at it. His eyes bore into my face instead. “Tell me what it says, Drew.” It wasn’t a demand. It was an honest, sincere plea. “Please.”

  Gianna was right. There would never be a perfect time to tell him. And I knew nothing would ever be the same for either of us after this moment. He had gone all these years thinking he only had one child and I had gone just as long thinking Kyle was my biological father. But I couldn’t hold it back from him. He deserved to know as much as I had.

  “It says that I’m your daughter.”

  The color drained from his face. His eyes went wide, his mouth opened, his thumbnail stopped tracing the nicks and grooves and it rested flat on the table. “No…”

  “Yes,” Gianna affirmed.

  “But how—"

  “You got her pregnant,” Gianna said.

  Shane absorbed the thought for a moment. “I’m…your father?”

  I nodded.

  “Kyle didn’t…” he paused.

  “She was a virgin,” I told him.

  “I didn’t know,” he breathed, reaching across to rest his hand over mine. “Drew, I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

  “I know you didn’t.” I searched his eyes trying to understand his reaction. “Nobody knew, not even me. Just her and my father…I mean, Kyle.” Honestly, I didn’t know what I meant. “She explains that she intentionally kept it from you. If you hadn’t found her journal, we never would have known.”

  “I have a daughter.” His voice wasn’t any louder than a whisper. His fingers still held mine. “I have you.”

  “And I have…” I struggled with the word. It had only meant one person to me until today. I hadn’t expected to ever be able to speak it again in the proper context, especially not to a man who looked at me with eyes that so closely matched mine. I’d always felt a warmth from Shane, even from the first day we had met. “I have a father.” I felt the warmth once again as I told him who he was to me.

  “Yes,” he said, his eyes glistening. “You do.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “DREW…HEY,” SAINT SAID, AFTER THE FIRST RING.

  He sounded surprised by my call. I was surprised, too. I had no intention of reaching out to him. But something had forced the phone into my hand, looked up his contact information, and hit the button that would connect our call. It wasn’t Gianna—she was asleep. It was an emotion.

  Anger? I still couldn’t believe he had lied to me about Rae. Longing? There was probably some of that in there as well. But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. Not now, at least. I needed to get my mind off things for a bit, and Saint had always been able to do that for me.

  “You’re not in the water,” I said. I moved away from the window that looked out to the ocean and took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Neither are you, I see.”

  I felt myself blush. I wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t said anything sexual. Maybe it was because we had both glanced out at the same spot at the same time. The boat was only about a hundred-yards from the house, yet it felt like so much more. Not just distance, but time, too.

  Was I weeks ahead or weeks behind?

  “Nope,” I said. “No water for me tonight.”

  He sighed into the phone. “I can hear in your voice how badly you need those waves.”

  I brushed my fingers through my hair, spending a few extra seconds on my scalp, trying to rub away the tension. A headache was building. I wasn’t actually sure if it had gone away since we’d left the bar. Saint was right; I did need the water.

  “I called you instead,” I said. That seemed like a lie, but maybe it wasn’t entirely.

  “I’m glad you did.” He paused. “Have I helped any?” He chuckled into the phone, probably knowing how ridiculous and awkward this conversation was. It was so much different than being in his presence— and things felt so different since our fight. I sensed that he wanted to say a lot more. Maybe the tone of my voice had told him not to.

  “A little, I think.” Bella trotted into the kitchen and grazed her cheeks over my knees. She wanted attention. It had probably been a few days since she’d gotten the super love that I usually gave her. I felt guilty. “I have to go.”

  “Okay, then. Tell Bella I said hello.”

  That made my blood rush a little more. “I will.”

  I was ready to hang up, but I jumped back in while the connection was still open. “Hey, Saint?” There was silence. “Justin?”

  I heard the phone scrape against his scruff. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. I just wanted to say that.”

  He exhaled heavily. “No problem. Goodnight, Drew.”

  I realized I didn’t need water at that moment to be peaceful. All I needed was him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  EVEN THOUGH WE DIDN’T DOUBT what my mom had written in her journal, especially since Shane had confirmed what had happened that night in the woods, we still decided it was important to take a paternity test. Considering all the lies that had been told over the years, we just wanted to make absolutely sure we finally knew the real truth. The results were positive.

  I had a father again.

  The change between Shane and me happened gradually. We began spending more time together and started talking about our pasts. He continued working at the house every day, but now we’d eat together during his lunch break, and sometimes he’d stay for dinner. I learned that
his marriage to Shirley hadn’t lasted very long and during their separation he had gotten Brady’s mom pregnant. Brady was born right after their divorce was finalized. He never remarried.

  His past was almost as complicated as my mom’s.

  Our conversations often drifted to Brady. My brother. It didn’t matter how many hours had passed since I’d learned that I had a sibling, saying that word still felt strange…especially considering what I’d thought his intentions were toward me. I’d spent my whole life as an only child. Finding out that I had a brother and having it be someone so immediate and someone who I already cared about, only made me want to help him even more.

  He wouldn’t let me, though.

  Shortly after Shane had gone over to Brady’s place to talk to him, Rae told us that Brady had taken off. He had made it very clear to her that he didn’t want to be found. He left his truck, and he even disconnected his cell phone. We did everything we could to locate him. Our only hope was that he would get in touch with Rae and that she would lead us to him. So far he hadn’t.

  Every night after Shane went home and Bella had been walked, Gianna and I would sit in front of the newly-installed gas fireplace and read a little more from my mom’s journal. Now that I finally understood why my grandparents had no part in our lives, I was trying to accept why she hadn’t told me about Shane. Shane believed my mom had made the right decision, that she wanted me to have a real father, and that at eighteen he wouldn’t have been what I needed. That didn’t excuse her for keeping it a secret from me or him.

  But I didn’t hate her for it.

  Whatever she’d kept from me couldn’t undo all that she’d given me, all that she’d sacrificed to make sure I had a wonderful life. She was faced with an impossible decision at such a young age—something I couldn’t relate to in the least—and even though I barely existed at the time, she chose me over her own parents. Having her journal allowed me to get close to her again and the letters she had sent to Marilyn confirmed her feelings for me from the very beginning.

  Whether I would go back to Florida or not was a question that seemed to linger between Gianna and me. There was about a month left before the renovations would be finished, and Andy was already generating a list of investors to pitch the property to. It was a decision that I just wasn’t ready to make yet. So rather than talking about what I would do when the house was done, Gianna and I shopped for winter clothes. Things we’d never been able to wear before, like lined boots and hats, thick wool scarves and mittens. And when she couldn’t fit any more into her suitcase, we went apple picking. We were trying to immerse ourselves in a real Maine autumn.