“How?”
That one, rasped word pulls me out of my self-centered daze. Jessica. Her eyes are huge, and her cheeks are totally drained of color.
“Turn off the cameras.” I march up to Rick. “So help me, if you don’t turn those things off right now, I’m going to start heaving coconuts.”
Tracy jumps up and points at me. “See! I told you she did it on purpose.”
“Knock it off, Tracy,” Bob says, and my opinion of him goes up just a bit.
Rick’s eyebrows draw together. “The cameras are always rolling. You know that.”
“I don’t care. How could you do this?” My eyes burn, my nose tingles. I’m so angry, my whole body buzzes with electricity. “How did you even find him?”
“Does that really matter now?”
“Of course it does. I never told anyone about him except . . .” My heart plummets to my toes. Mother. “Oh no.”
Rick nods, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “That’s how we found out.” He leans closer, and says so quietly that I almost don’t hear him, “And that’s why I made sure we got Jules here.”
He did that for me? The warm fuzzy moment is fleeting. No matter how sweet a gesture it was to bring out my friend, they still brought Duncan here for the sole purpose of ratings.
“It’s good ta see ya, Nikki.” That Scottish brogue is as deep and charming as the first time I heard it.
“Duncan.”
He looks from me to Jess. “This is your daughter, then?”
My throat closes up as the realization hits. They didn’t tell him about her. He has no idea that he’s a father, and this is the way he’ll find out. No matter what happened between Duncan and me, he doesn’t deserve this.
Jess looks at Rick. “I thought you said—” She walks up to me. “Is that man my father?”
“Father?” Duncan comes closer, joining our dysfunctional family tableau. “Am I her father, Nikki?”
“You didn’t tell him?” Jess demands of Rick, then turns to Duncan. “Why did you think you were coming here?”
“They told me it was ta see Nikki.”
I can see Jess working through the puzzle of information in her head. Then, as the last piece falls into place, she points at me. “And she never told you about me?”
Duncan shakes his head. “No, Love.”
Rick puts a hand on my shoulder and I jump at the unexpected touch. “Monica, you might want to introduce them.”
No, no, no. I don’t want to introduce them. I want to go back in time and lose the challenge. I want to let Bob and Payton plow into me and destroy any chance we had of winning, because this is the worst prize ever. It’s not even a prize, it’s more like a punishment. But wishing for something that’s impossible won’t help. I can’t put this off any longer.
“Duncan, this is my daughter, Jessica. And yes, she’s your daughter, too.”
“Jessica. A beautiful name for a beautiful lass.”
Her dam of self-control crumbles and she sobs, and when Duncan opens his arms, she walks into them. He enfolds her, and she wraps her arms around his waist, clutching fistfuls of the back of his shirt. The sounds coming from her are muffled against his chest, and I can’t tell if she’s crying or talking. But one word comes through loud and clear.
“Dad.”
22
It’s my first time in a helicopter, and all I can think about is how unfair life is.
For the last two weeks, I’ve been hungry, uncomfortable, mosquito bitten, and usually waterlogged. All this in order to get to know Jess, even though she’s mostly avoided any interaction with me beyond competing in the challenges. So it really raises my hackles that all Duncan has to do is show up, and the two of them are huddled together in the backseats, laughing and talking like long-lost friends.
Jules leans over and squeezes my knee. “Enjoy this,” she yells over the noise of the rotors.
She’s obviously taking her own advice, and I can’t blame her. When will she ever again fly over a beautiful, tropical island in a private helicopter? When will I?
There’s nothing I can do now about the situation with Duncan, so I try to concentrate on the scenery below. Living on the island, I hadn’t truly grasped its beauty. From up here, the sea is clear and blue as a sapphire, the vegetation lush as emeralds. Jess’s hearty laugh pulls me from my moment of nature appreciation. My heart is hard as granite, and I’m jealous of this easy relationship they’ve fallen into.
We land in a clearing on the other side of the island and are met by smiling natives dressed in colorful, traditional garb. Duncan and Jules are led in one direction, while Jess and I are taken in another. Jess looks over her shoulder, obviously not wanting to let Duncan out of her sight.
One of the women smiles and lays her hand gently between Jess’s shoulder blades. “We will bring you back together for your meal. But first, you get clean.”
We go around the corner, and there is one of the most fabulous things I’ve ever seen: two side-by-side showers. And not a camera in sight.
***
Thirty minutes later, we’re being escorted to the dining area, and Jess can’t stop touching her hair.
“It feels so good to be clean.” She runs her fingers through her ponytail, which is hanging over her shoulder. Then she holds a piece of the hair to her nose. “And it smells so good.”
Her enthusiasm is contagious. “My favorite thing was using the loofah. I think I exfoliated about a pound of dead skin.”
“That too.” She runs her hands up and down her arms. “You don’t know how wonderful some things are until you don’t have them.”
“Or until you do.”
She turns her head sharply, but doesn’t respond.
We walk on, and the silence becomes heavier by the second. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “We’re going to have to talk eventually, you know.”
“I know.”
What is Jess thinking? She’s obviously hesitant to really open up and share her feelings. So why did she search me out in the first place? I was perfectly fine, living my quiet, normal life. I thought I was happy and well-adjusted. But she had to bring me here and shake me out of my denial. She had to show me how isolated and lonely I’ve really been, and that there’s a hole in my life that won’t be filled unless she’s in it.
Maybe it’s time for me to stop acting like a woman who wants to be her friend, and start acting like her mother. It’s time for me to take the lead.
“He left before I knew about you.”
She looks at me, confused. “What?”
“Duncan. Your father. We met at culinary school.”
“He’s a chef, too?”
I shrug. “I have no idea what he is now. But he was working toward that when we met. Anyway, he left the school before I knew I was pregnant. That’s why I didn’t tell him.”
Our guide turns and walks backward for a moment. “We’re almost there.”
We both nod. The rest of this conversation will have to wait, but at least we’ve taken the first step.
When Rick said we’d be eating barbecue, I envisioned a rough-hewn picnic table and a gas grill. I never expected the gorgeous setting we walk into. There’s a square table covered with a silk cloth and set with china plates and flatware. A canopy covers it so we’ll be dry if it rains. And the whole thing is set up on a bluff, giving us an amazing view of the sun setting behind the ocean.
Duncan and Jules stand close by, talking and sipping on drinks with little umbrellas in them. Jules notices us first and raises her glass. “Hail the conquering heroes.”
“I can’t believe this.” My fingers trail along the back of a chair, and I think how great it will be not to sit on the ground.
Two waiters come to the table to seat us and pour our water. As the ice clinks into our glasses, Jess lets out a sigh. “Ice.”
“And look. A real fork.” I hold one up as if I’ve discovered a sacred relic.
Duncan’s eyebrows lift. “How long ha
ve you two been out here?”
“Two weeks,” we say together.
More waiters come to the table now, carrying enough food to feed a small country. Platters of barbecued beef, chicken, and pork. Bowls of salad, fruit, roasted potatoes, and grilled vegetables. Baskets of rolls and plates of butter. The aroma of all these dishes is enough to make me slightly woozy. My stomach doesn’t just growl, it barks, demanding to be fed.
Jules must have read my face, because she raises a hand in warning as I reach for a roll. “Pace yourself. If you eat too fast, all that food will just come right back up.”
The first thing I bite into is a succulent beef rib, slathered in barbecue sauce. There’s no way to hold back my groan of joy as my taste buds start doing a happy dance. Protein, how I’ve missed you.
Jules is eating with almost as much enthusiasm as if she’d been starving along with us the last two weeks. But she slows herself down long enough to make conversation. “Jess, I’d love to know more about your family.”
Her mouth stuffed with bread, Jess looks at me and Duncan. “Which one?”
Jules chuckles. “I already know all about your birth mom, here. In fact, I could tell you some stories—”
“Don’t you dare,” I say, brandishing a rib bone.
“Killjoy.” Jules looks from me back to Jess. “I want to know about your parents. You know, the ones who raised you.”
If my fingers weren’t coated with sticky, red barbecue sauce, I’d give Jules a big bear hug right now. Her choice of words was perfect, and being a fairly objective observer, she can ask the question I couldn’t.
Jess blinks, swallows her mouthful of food, then smiles. “My parents are awesome.” She stops, and her eyes dart in my direction.
This could go one of two ways: I could be hurt that she’s so close to the people I gave her to. Or, I could be thrilled that she’s so close to the people I gave her to. Until this moment, I honestly didn’t know how I would react to hearing her talk about them. Maybe it’s the fact that she seems to care how I feel right now, or maybe it’s just because I’m in a state of euphoria from eating real food for the first time in fifteen days. Whatever the reason, the only emotion filling my heart is happiness.
I smile and encourage her to continue. “I’d love to hear more about them.”
“Okay.” She takes another scoop of potatoes, then sips her water before she talks. “My dad is an engineer. He specializes in designing bridges. And my mom was a photographer.”
“Was?”
Jess hesitates. “She used to have her own studio, but now she’s doing . . . other things.”
“An engineer and a photographer.” Jules is understandably impressed. “What a great combination of analytical skills and creativity.”
Jess nods. “Mom says that’s why I got into fashion design, because it requires both sides of your brain.”
I’m still happy. Even though my smile feels like it’s been carved in stone, I’m still happy. And why shouldn’t I be? Her mother is a photographer. Imagine the amazing pictures they must have. Albums and albums full of Jess at every stage of life. And her parents have been such a positive force, they even influenced her career path. That’s just great.
Duncan leans forward, elbows on the table. “You had a happy childhood, then? They treated you well?”
“Very well. Except for that pony I asked for every Christmas until I was nine but never got, my childhood was great.”
“When did they tell you that you were adopted?” Jules asks.
Jessica’s fork clatters onto her plate and she jumps from the table. “What? I’m adopted?”
All three of us look at her in shock. And then she starts laughing.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Oh man, you should see your faces.” She sits back down and looks at Jules. “They never kept it a secret. But they officially told me the whole story when I was seven. That’s when I found out who the woman in the picture was.”
She’s known about me for eighteen years. For some reason, that detail squeezes my heart. What does a seven-year-old girl do when she finds out her mother gave her away?
Again, Jules asks the question for me. “How did you feel when you found out?”
Jess shifts in her seat. “It really didn’t change my life, you know? My parents were still my parents, they still loved me, I still loved them.” She spears a potato with her fork, and it seems she’s done talking. But she’s not. “It wasn’t until I hit my teens that I started thinking it was a big deal.”
A big deal? Was that good or bad? I hold my breath, willing her to keep talking, but then the servers come back and clear away our dinner plates. They’re followed by more servers, carrying trays of sweets: mini crème brûlée pots, thickly frosted brownies, fruit tarts, and an amazing variety of pastries.
“Oh goody. Dessert!” Jess claps her hands and, for just a second, I get a glimpse of the excited little girl she must have been.
This is the perfect time for chocolate.
As we’re digging into the sweet treats, one of the native women comes to our table. “There is one more special surprise.”
We all turn in the direction she points, and there’s our surprise. Rick Wolff walks up, his 100-watt smile bracketed by dimples, wearing his trademark dark blue safari shirt, khaki pants, and shark’s tooth necklace.
“Hello, family.” He lifts his hand in greeting.
Beside me, Jules is trying to keep herself calm by digging her fingernails into my thigh. I lean over and whisper to her. “Relax. He’s just a guy.”
“Just a guy, my elbow,” she says.
“And you’re married.”
She snorts. “I’m married, but I ain’t dead. Besides, I’m just looking.”
I laugh, because I know my best friend. Her husband has nothing to worry about.
Rick rests his fingertips against the edge of the table. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here. Well, I have one more surprise for you.”
Oh no. His last surprise was bringing Duncan out of the jungle. What’s next?
“A reunion like this is too special to end in just a few hours.”
Oh no, no, no.
“So Duncan and Julia will be going back to camp and playing the game with you until the elimination challenge.”
NO!
“Yes!” Jules is obviously not in sync with me on this one. Neither are Duncan and Jess, who grin and lean across the table to high-five each other.
In the category of “worst-case scenarios” I’m sure something ranks higher than spending the next two days with the man who broke my heart while he bonds with our daughter. But nothing comes to mind. There’s only one way to deal with this right now.
“Pass the brownies, please.”
23
We cause quite a ruckus when we walk back into camp. Questions zing at us like arrows, and Jess and I struggle to answer all of them. After we explain that Rick sent two more people back to camp, and why, I put a stop to it all.
“Look, it’s late and, miracle of miracles, it’s not raining. Personally, I want to get some sleep while I’m still dry. We’ll make introductions tomorrow.”
As I head to the shelter, Jules is right beside me. “Wow, you’ve gotten downright forceful out here.”
“What can I say? Living off the land changes a woman.” Smiling, I nudge her shoulder with mine.
Malcolm and Layla meet us at the shelter. “Since we’ll be bunking together, it might be good to make introductions now.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Malcolm, and this is my daughter, Layla.”
“Duncan. And you already know my daughter.” He shakes Malcolm’s hand, then Layla’s.
Before Duncan can work any more of his charm on them, I step in and introduce Jules. Malcolm is polite to our guests, but I sense tension between him and me. He may be a pastor, but I imagine it’s difficult to be loving and generous when you missed out on dinner and you’ve hardly eaten for two weeks. But I think I have a remedy for that.<
br />
“We brought you guys something.” I hand him my bandana.
“What? Your laundry?”
“Open it and see.”
To the casual observer, I wanted it to look like I held my bandana wadded up against my stomach. But really, it’s carefully wrapped around a selection of goodies I smuggled from the dinner table.
As Malcolm opens the bundle, his eyes widen. Layla looks over his shoulder. When she sees what he’s holding she squeals.
We shush her as a group, then look to make sure the remaining Singletons didn’t notice.
“There was no way to bring enough for everybody,” I whisper. “But I had to bring something to you two.”
Malcolm’s face softens, then he shocks me by bending down and kissing my cheek. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means.”
“I know what it means. You’re a saint.” Layla grabs the food from her dad and sits on the edge of the shelter.
Shooing him away with a wave of my hand, I motion with my head toward Layla. “You better hurry up if you want to get some.”
“You two seem close,” Jules says after Malcolm moves away.
“We’re just friends. Really, we’ve only known each other for a couple weeks.”
Duncan moves closer, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “If I remember, Nikki, you only knew me for a few weeks before we—”
“Went to the beach. Yeah, I remember.” Boy, do I. And I don’t want him sharing the facts with the entire world.
Jules taps me on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, but is there a latrine around here?”
“Sure. I’ll show you.”
As we walk away, I hear Jess say, “I’ll fill you in on how we sleep, Dad.”
The weight of her easy, casual acceptance of him presses down on me, hunching my shoulders and bowing my head.
“That’s gotta be hard,” Jules says.
“It is.” We trudge along, and I want so badly to spill my guts. But the camera man trailing us is like a gag. Right before we get to the Porta-Potties, I turn to the man and wave my finger in front of the lens. “You stop here, my good fellow.”
Without lowering the camera, he responds with a silent salute and holds his ground.
Last Family Standing Page 13