by Pamela Aares
The teakettle whistled, and Natasha poured the water into the teapot. Any moment she would wake up and find herself in her bed and all of this—Delia, the teapot, all of it—just a strange dream.
“I found a letter,” Delia continued. “From your mother to William. Your mother wrote that she was leaving New York, that she didn’t want his money or his help. There were also two letters from William addressed to Elizabeth Raley. Both had come back as undeliverable.”
She unsnapped the clasp of the black purse she’d set on the counter and fished envelopes from it.
“I have the letters. I opened them, of course. That’s how the investigator I hired found you. Your mother may have run, but she never changed her name.”
She handed Natasha the letters.
“I apologize for William. He wasn’t ready for a family. As you’ll see from these letters, he gave your mother money for an abortion—an abortion I’m mighty glad she didn’t go through with. You look like your father, my dear.”
Natasha laid the letters on the counter and sank down onto the other kitchen stool.
“I can’t read these. Not right now,” she said. No amount of meditating or exercises would calm her racing heart. What did the woman really want? After the shock of Eddie, she should’ve been ready for anything to happen. But she hadn’t been ready for this. To her surprise, a strange joy fluttered in her chest. She had a family. Well, a family of one.
“I understand, dear. I was shocked too when I first discovered them. And I was terribly sorry to hear what my investigator found out about your mother. And what you went through after her death. All so unnecessary. I would’ve gladly taken you in. I never had a daughter. William was an only child, like me.”
Natasha put her head in her hands, used her palms to block out the light.
Unnecessary. Four foster homes, each worse than the one before it—to call such a terrible childhood unnecessary floored her.
“Do you think we could have that tea?” Delia said in a soft voice.
“God! I’m so sorry. I just… Oh, it’s going to be way too strong.”
“Right now tea of any sort will taste like an elixir,” Delia said.
Natasha poured the tea.
“No milk, please. I’m lactose intolerant.”
“So is Tyler,” Natasha said. “I have almond milk.”
“Must be genetic,” Delia said with a smile. “Almond milk will be fine.”
The only evidence that Delia—her grandmother!—was nervous was the tremble in her hand as she lifted the mug to her lips.
“It’s perfect,” Delia purred with a smile. “There’s so much to catch up on. A whole lifetime. But I’d also understand if you wanted me to go right after I finish my tea. To give you some time to take this all in.”
“No, please don’t go. Tell me about my father.”
And with that simple request, Natasha realized that she owed it to Tyler for him to know about his father too. She wished Eddie had waited to show up when Tyler was an adult, when Tyler could choose what sort of relationship he wanted to have, if any. But that choice was out of her hands. And she couldn’t deny them a relationship they both deserved. She could only do everything she could to make sure that Eddie didn’t hurt him. But she owed Tyler the truth.
Delia put her mug down and pulled a group of photos from her purse.
“As I said, you look like him. This is William when he was about ten.”
Natasha looked into a face so strikingly similar to Tyler’s that it spooked her.
“And this was taken around the time he met your mother.”
Though Natasha had always thought she looked like her mother, she saw that she also bore a strong resemblance to her father. To William Marbury. He was devastatingly handsome. It was no wonder that her mother had fallen in love.
“Your mother was an amazing dancer. I saw her on stage once in New York. Of course at the time, I didn’t know that she and William were involved.” She sighed. “I only wish he’d been ready to settle down.”
Delia flashed the last photo from the stack. William leaned against a brightly colored racing car, the sort Natasha had only ever seen on TV.
“This is the last photo ever taken of him. You can have it if you’d like.”
Natasha traced the face on the faded photo. She’d gained and lost a father in less than an hour. It was hard to wrap her mind around the reality. Around any of what Delia was revealing.
“But enough about me,” Delia said. “Tell me about you.”
Natasha poured them both a second mug of tea and related the events of her and Tyler’s life. She even told Delia about the repeating dream. And about her foolish bet. She didn’t tell about her history with Eddie. That would wait until she knew better what to say. But she did tell her about Adrian.
“You love this boy,” Delia said, gesturing with her tea mug.
“Tyler?”
“Of course Tyler. He’s lucky to have you for a mother. But I was talking about this man, Adrian. You love him. I see it in your eyes. You’re inches from the altar.”
“Not even close. He’s from a different world, Delia.”
“In what world would a man not fall in love with you?”
“A very wealthy world. I’m afraid that though he liked me—and I truly believe he did—I’m an employee. A worker. He’s a privileged heir. Our worlds would never mesh.”
“He doesn’t sound like the sort of man who would let such a minor detail get in his way.”
“It’s not just that. If you saw the women around him, you’d understand. They’re sophisticated, well traveled. Beautiful.”
“I see you. Likely he does as well.”
“The women he knows don’t have problems reading a simple sentence and getting numbers right.”
“Details, my dear. If I’d let such things influence me, I’d never have ended up with my George. We had fifty-two good years before the good Lord took him.” She set her mug on the counter and straightened. A light came into her eyes.
“Dear, if you hadn’t made that bet, if you hadn’t kept your mother’s last name and ended up on the welfare rolls, we would never have found you.” She grinned and her eyes twinkled with glee. “Maybe seventeen is your lucky number after all—otherwise you surely wouldn’t have met this Adrian, and we wouldn’t be sitting here having tea. Oh, how I do love happy endings.”
“Adrian and I aren’t going to have the happy ending you’re wishing for. I saw yesterday how he looked at me. I really let myself see, maybe for the first time. There are a hundred differences that make us incompatible.”
“A hundred is a lot, my dear. I do believe you’re exaggerating.”
“I can’t be a project, like some sort of twisted version of My Fair Lady. If Adrian had wanted to take a step toward me as a man moves toward a woman, he could have. He didn’t. In fact, yesterday he was very, very careful not to. And who could blame him, considering the mess I’ve made of my life?”
Then she did tell Delia about Eddie. And about Enrique.
Delia’s eyes sparked fire. “You are not responsible for this Enrique’s actions. He took advantage of you—can’t you see that? No one could blame you for such a thing. And I don’t care if Eddie is Tyler’s father. I have attorneys, lots of them. Unless he has truly reformed, he’s not getting within a country mile of my grandson.”
Natasha fought back tears as she wrapped her arms around Delia and sank into the scent of lavender and the comfort of her arms. “Welcome to Team Tyler.”
Delia patted her back. “Don’t you worry, dear. I’ll deal with the law and Eddie. You deal with Adrian. Genuine love comes from knowledge, not from a sense of duty or guilt. Does he know you love him?”
Delia’s blunt question broke through the brief sense of peace that being held had brought to Natasha.
“Maybe.”
Delia pulled away and put her palms on Natasha’s shoulders.
“For goodness’ sake, Natasha. Maybe is not g
ood enough.”
A cellphone sounded from Delia’s purse.
“That’s my driver. He can wait a few more minutes.” Delia slid off the stool and planted her feet firmly on the floor. “I have business in the city all day tomorrow and a meeting in the evening. Perhaps we can have dinner the day after tomorrow? I’d like to meet Tyler. Unless you think it’s too soon.”
“He’ll be thrilled to know he has a great-grandmother. He’s always wished we had a family. Lately he’s been asking questions about his father too.”
“May I offer some advice?”
Natasha nodded.
“Wait to tell Tyler about his father. Until we know better what might lie ahead—until we have a better grasp on what sort of man Edward Markiston truly is and how involved he might be in Tyler’s life. Until we know what is best to tell Tyler and how to orient him to such news.”
“Tyler really likes Adrian. In a deep place, I wish…” Her voice trailed off as her heart warred with her mind. “I wish so many aspects of our lives had been different.”
“Wishing is a coward’s way out, Natasha. Marburys don’t have that gene, dear. And I rather doubt your mother had it either.” She tapped a finger to Natasha’s heart. “The heart always knows its way forward. You might need to listen a bit more carefully to its advice.”
She headed for the door. Natasha grabbed the photos off the counter. “You forgot these.”
“Those are for you. I can see them anytime. I’m planning to move to Sonoma as soon as my real estate agent finds me a place near town.” She withdrew her gloves from her purse. “Oh, and one more thing, my dear—nothing happens in the universe by mistake. Keep that in mind.”
After Delia left, Natasha paced in front of the window overlooking her little green square of lawn.
She’d have help dealing with Eddie. And she had family. That was maybe the best part of all.
And Adrian? She needed to buck up and face the truth. She loved him.
But was Delia right? Was she a coward?
No, she was a realist.
Early on when she was falling in love with him, she’d fooled herself by believing it was money and privilege that created the gap between her and Adrian. Somehow believing that made her think she might surmount the problem. Win the lottery or something. Anything. But what she’d told Delia was true: their lives didn’t mesh and never would. But even beyond that truth was another, a fact impossible to deny—he liked her, she was sure of it, but he didn’t love her. He’d never even hinted at anything long term.
But then, neither had she.
She curled up in the chair where just an hour ago Delia had sat like some fairy godmother. The scent of lavender rose from the upholstery, a reminder that Natasha hadn’t hallucinated the entire episode.
She glanced around her small apartment.
Loneliness coursed through the shock waves bouncing around in her brain. Whatever the future held, she’d be living without Adrian. It didn’t make her feel any better to know she couldn’t have stopped herself from loving him. But she truly had thought she was ready for any outcome. She’d been wrong.
That night Natasha stood in the field beside her apartment and stared up at the stars. They appeared so tranquil, but yet there they were, busy burning away and spilling their energy out into the night sky. She thought of Delia’s last words to her—nothing happens in the universe by mistake.
She almost believed it.
She’d changed since moving to Sonoma, since she’d met Adrian and begun her work at the vineyard. Confidence bloomed, fed by facing truths she’d once feared.
One truth stood out—her life with her foster parents wasn’t her doing, not her fault. Deep in her body she felt the shame of those days release, freeing energy for her life ahead. The hole that had lurked deep and wide was filling. It wasn’t full yet, but she had firmer ground to stand on instead of sinking as she’d done in the past. Trust was beginning to grow in her, tender and still tentative, but there. And along with her budding trust in life, in herself, courage grew too. The gift of freedom loomed, calling to her.
But a constant question nagged—why hadn’t she told Adrian how she felt? Wasn’t she doing exactly what he’d done, making a choice for him by not revealing her true feelings? By not telling him she loved him?
When it came to love, maybe she was still a coward.
If she didn’t risk telling Adrian she loved him, she risked a loss far greater than heartbreak, far worse than the pain of disappointment. If she didn’t take the step that loving him had emboldened her to take, she would always know that she had let fear win, that she had folded and succumbed to its numbing restriction, that she had shut down the blessing that having him in her life had been. Her time with Adrian had forced her to grow and change, to become the full woman that loving him had allowed her to glimpse.
Loving Adrian had made her face and move beyond the walls blocking her from exploring the frontiers of her life—from trusting herself and from valuing her dreams. Loving him had lured her to find the strength and courage and confidence she’d never thought possible to find. Courage to be herself not because she had a man but because love had come to her and had shown her a new path.
And like a wild dragon charging in and banishing negative influences, making love with him had loosened the cords of shame that had bound her, had unraveled the net of fear that had kept her from feeling anything deeply, anything hopeful. And along with her newfound freedom came a grace she hadn’t imagined existed. A surrender she didn’t fear.
Didn’t she owe it to herself, to Tyler—to Adrian—to call up her courage and reach for love? To tell Adrian how loving him had strengthened her and had opened her to a love she hadn’t dared to believe could exist? To tell him the tender truth that she barely admitted to herself?
But even as her mind rallied, her heart trembled in her chest. The chasm she’d have to cross was wide. He would have to meet her halfway.
And maybe it wasn’t cowardice that held her back from telling Adrian she loved him. Maybe it was kindness.
He’d already given her so much. Asking him to leap the gap that separated them was inconceivable. And uncaring.
Perhaps she should simply be grateful for her new confidence and courage, for the skills she’d learned. Perhaps having known love in her own heart was enough. Maybe it was greedy to expect more.
And if he didn’t love her, she knew him well enough to know that forcing him to admit it would slash hurt into his heart. He was always looking out for the needs of others, to a fault, a fault he would someday have to face.
Perhaps the lesson—the gift—was her newfound strength, a gift she might never have discovered if it hadn’t been for him. She closed her eyes and let awareness of her growing strength surge through her. She could run the native plant business. Already she was reading better, working with numbers better. She could do it. She’d have help, Adrian had said so. She had a gift for plants, one she could—no, one she would—honor. Her mother had given up her dream, her career, to have her, to raise her. The least she could do was to make something of herself and follow her own dream, make her mother’s sacrifice count. She’d stay at the Casa and run the business. Maybe someday even start a business of her own. She owed it to her mother. To Tyler. To herself. Even to Adrian.
And though her heart was breaking in a thousand different ways, she felt a flame ignite. She’d done the right thing by sending Adrian away, by releasing him back into his world. She could go on. She would. And though some part of her would always yearn for what could have been with him, she’d have her memories. Surely those would be enough.
Natasha’s apartment was quiet the next morning, too quiet. Tyler had slept over at the Exeters’ with a couple of the other boys from his baseball team.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered to the window overlooking her lawn.
Where she blinked repeatedly, not trusting her eyes.
Hundreds of long-stemmed roses stood
upright like sentries, covering the space so thickly that she couldn’t see the grass between them. Tags fluttered from each of them, dancing in the light morning breeze.
She looked beyond the roses.
Adrian stood leaning against her mailbox with an unreadable expression on his face.
Her hands trembled as she set her coffee on the windowsill. Adrian didn’t move, just watched her through her window.
She dashed out onto her front steps. Her body shook and her heart pounded, making it hard to stand. She dropped to her knees, never letting her eyes leave his.
“That’s the position I had in mind for myself,” he said as he came up the walk and knelt beside her. “But I have a few things I need to say to you first.”
“How… How did you do this?”
“You once told me you loved roses.”
“But how…”
“Enrique and Parker helped me. It took two hours. He’s a good worker.”
“Parker?”
“Enrique. Parker supervised.”
Adrian took her hand in his and tugged her to her feet. At his touch, her heart melted. All her good intentions to keep her distance dissolved like bubbles in a breeze.
“Forgive my irrational act,” he said, sweeping his arm toward the rose-covered lawn. “I hope it will be my last. But I must apologize. I know now I was wrong to do what I did. I mean I was wrong in the way that I did it, making a decision that affected your life as I did, without consulting you.”
He released her hands.
“All my life I’ve lived in the shadow of my wealth, with resources and privilege I did nothing to earn. I’ve been fighting that demon shadow for longer than I can remember. It twisted how I could be with people, always making me second-guess the motives of everyone around me. And so I shut down my heart and buried myself in my work.”
His nervousness was contagious. She wished she didn’t fear the path ahead, the path that his words were traveling. She knew the power of a shut-down heart.