Kiss the Girl

by Melissa Brayden

  But she paused, her heart thrumming wildly from adrenaline, because it wasn’t an intruder at all. It was a scantily clad blond woman looking back at her from the stove in confusion.

  “So I take it you’re not hungry?” Brooklyn asked cautiously, raising her hands palms up.

  She dropped the umbrella. “Thank God. I thought there might have been an intruder.”

  Brooklyn studied her curiously. “Because it couldn’t have possibly been me? You know, the other person staying here? I was just unable to sleep.”

  Jessica felt somewhat defensive and tried to orient herself to the moment. “I don’t know, okay? I’m half asleep and not thinking clearly yet. Strange town. Strange cottage. Strange noise. I leapt into action.”

  Brooklyn flipped whatever wonderful thing was in that pan, making the kitchen smell like heaven. She shook her head in wonder. “You’re right about that. You totally leapt. It’s kind of impressive the way you were ready to take me on. That umbrella isn’t messing around either. I see why you chose it.”

  Jessica perched atop one of the stools at the island. “Mock at will, but you’d be extra grateful if I’d just saved your life.”

  “I’ll give you that. Your valor scores points.”

  “Thank you. Now do you want to explain what’s happening here, Julia Child?”

  “Omelets are happening. They’re all the rage in Avon, Connecticut.” Jessica gave her a long look until she finally relented with a sigh. “Nightmare. Nothing new. And now I can’t get back to sleep.” The smile faded, and she pointed halfheartedly to her head. “Too much in here, you know? So I gave up. This is more fun anyway. Perfecting the great American omelet while the rest of the world slumbers? C’mon, time well spent. And I don’t like to brag, but I’m getting pretty good. Generally, Samantha benefits from my talent. But tonight, you’re the lucky soul. Want one?”

  Jessica studied her, hating what she’d just heard and not wanting to do anything to make it worse. So she treaded lightly. “So that’s pretty common for you? Nightmares?”

  “I mean, only if you call ‘all the time’ common.” She was smiling as if it weren’t a big deal, which she was coming to learn was what Brooklyn did when she didn’t want to go there. Pressing her to talk about it would just cause her to close up further. So she pushed past the issue. “Gotcha. As for the omelet, I think I have to have one. I can’t say that I’ve ever enjoyed an impromptu middle-of-the-night meal before.”

  Brooklyn flashed a quick and wary smile. “Welcome to my world.”

  As they ate their omelets on the couch, Brooklyn managed to find a Mary Tyler Moore marathon on TV they could veg out to. As one episode merged into another, Jessica gently pulled Brooklyn toward her, so that her head lay in Jessica’s lap. She allowed her hands to play softly with Brooklyn’s hair, lifting it gently and letting it fall, the way she always found especially soothing when done to her. It wasn’t long before she was met with the quiet sounds of deep breathing, indicative of sleep. She reached for the remote, careful not to wake the woman against her, and with a click brought the room to silence. She noticed the quilt on the back of the couch and pulled it over Brooklyn. Finally, she sank back against the cushion and closed her eyes, hoping against hope for a good day ahead.

  *

  Brooklyn watched each house number carefully as they slowly drove down the street of the picturesque neighborhood. Medium-sized houses that just screamed “New England” sat back from the street. They were accentuated with welcome signs, mature trees, and overflowing flowerbeds for that extra-added touch. It was a friendly neighborhood, but Brooklyn couldn’t fully take it all in. It was as if she found herself in some sort of alternate universe.

  “This is it,” she said finally, double-checking the address with the one in her phone. Her heart thudded wildly away in her chest, and her mouth was exceptionally dry. “2902 Tanner Well Park.” She eased the car up the long driveway and blew out a slow, steadying breath. Just push through, she repeated to herself internally.

  Jessica squeezed her knee and gave her an encouraging smile. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “I need just a second.” She checked herself briefly in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure I’m dressed okay? I shouldn’t have worn jeans. I don’t know why I did.”

  “Hey. Look at me. You’re beautiful. We’ve been over this. It’s a casual dinner in someone’s home, and your outfit is perfect for that.”

  Brooklyn nodded, knowing Jess was right. But she couldn’t resist a last glance in the rearview mirror. She moved several strands of hair around arbitrarily. You know, just for good measure. This was, after all, the biggest moment of her life thus far.

  It was now or never.

  With a deep inhale, she exited the car and walked steadily up to the front porch with Jessica just behind her. It didn’t feel quite like walking, more like floating. Her mind felt empty like a blank sheet of paper, but at the same time it took in every detail. A strange arrangement she’d made with herself.

  It was mid-November, and appropriately, a smiling Pilgrim stood just to the left of the charming blue door, and a wooden turkey hung in its center. A small stuffed scarecrow sat on a nearby bench, all homey additions. Before she allowed her nerves to bubble over entirely, she pressed her finger to the doorbell and waited.

  And waited.

  She exchanged a look with Jessica. They did have the time right, didn’t they? Jessica held up one hand, signaling her to be patient. At last, the door opened.

  And all Brooklyn could do was stare.

  Cynthia was slightly shorter than she was, but the blond hair, the light-blue eyes were so eerily familiar, it was startling. She’d never seen anyone who looked so much like she did. But of course that made sense. She’d never met anyone who was biologically related to her before.

  Time seemed to cease. In reality, it was probably only a moment or two that they stared at each other, but it felt like forever. Finally, Cynthia attempted a smile, but the tears that brimmed in her eyes overshadowed it. “Hi, Brooklyn.”

  “Hi. ”

  “I’m Cynthia. I don’t know what to say. I had it all worked out and—”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s just so nice to finally meet you.” A pause, in which she brought her hand to her mouth and back down again. Brooklyn understood that she was just as nervous. “Would it be all right if I gave you a hug?”

  Brooklyn nodded and braced herself against the feel of her mother’s arms wrapping around her. For the first time.

  It took her a moment to respond, to hug her back, but when she did, the tears she’d sworn she’d hold back filled her eyes automatically. She took in every moment of that hug, the one her childhood self would have given anything for. Her actual mother. It was the most surreal exchange she’d ever experienced.

  Cynthia released her finally and stepped back, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Brooklyn did the same, and they laughed nervously at the mirroring of emotion.

  Jessica hadn’t said anything. But Brooklyn felt her there, just behind her, and it steadied her ship.

  “Please come inside. Both of you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. This is my friend, Jessica. She was nice enough to come with me so I wouldn’t have to make the trip alone.” Reality was inching back into focus now, and her voice sounded somewhat normal. That was something.

  “Nice to meet you, Jessica,” Cynthia said, extending her hand.

  Jessica accepted it. “Thank you for having us to your home. We’ve enjoyed what we’ve seen of Avon so far.”

  As Jessica and Cynthia made small talk, Brooklyn couldn’t stop looking. Studying. Cynthia’s hair was pulled up into a soft twist, but she guesstimated that it was just shorter than shoulder length when down. She had a freckle just beneath her left eye that reminded Brooklyn of the one next to her own ear. She ran her hand across where she knew it resided.

  She also seemed young. But something, a look behind her eyes maybe, wasn’t. It showed w
isdom, scars. She could identify.

  Cynthia turned to her tentatively. “I thought we could talk for a little bit, before you meet the rest of the family. They’re not here right now. I asked them to give us time first.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  Jessica gestured to the bench on the front porch, visible through the window. “Why don’t I spend some time on that bench catching up on e-mail and give you two a chance to talk?”

  Brooklyn grabbed her wrist and met her eyes. “Please stay.” She turned to face Cynthia. “I’d like Jessica to stay, if that’s all right with you.” For whatever reason, it made her feel stronger to have someone from her own life there by her side. To center her. To remind her of who she was. And Jessica could do all those things for her.

  “Of course. Whatever you prefer. Why don’t we have some coffee? I have a pot brewing. I’m a big fan of hot beverages. Especially on cool days.”

  “Me too. The hot beverages.”

  She led them through the entryway and down a short hall. “What about you, Jessica? A coffee drinker?”

  “An addict, actually. It’s my favorite vice, though I’ve been trying rather abysmally to cut back.”

  Cynthia smiled over her shoulder. “I think you and I are going to get along well.”

  The hallway opened up into a sunken family room that was everything you’d think a quaint home would be. It sported an arrangement of two leather sofas and a comfy armchair, large paintings on the wall, a fluffy rug in front of a giant stone fireplace. Tons of natural light flooded in from three large windows, making the room feel cheerful. Somewhere a family might gather. It was a nice place. It hadn’t escaped Brooklyn that there were photos on the wall of children, but she refrained from heading straight to them in overt curiosity. She would have time for that, she reminded herself. Don’t get too far ahead.

  While Cynthia prepared three cups of coffee, they chatted easily about the changing season and the peacefulness of Avon. Safe topics. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t an undercurrent of something so much more important in the air. It wasn’t just an elephant, but a whole herd.

  Cynthia seemed eager to accommodate, rushing around to make sure she got their coffee specifics just right. She’d also put out an assortment of breads all from the local bakery for them to snack on. Brooklyn took one out of courtesy but didn’t know that she could actually eat, given the circumstances.

  Cynthia also seemed kind, and smart. And while Brooklyn still felt herself very much on guard, she couldn’t quite get past the fact that this woman was put together. Personable. When she’d always suspected such a different story.

  As they settled into the sofas in the living room, Brooklyn and Jessica on one and Cynthia on the other, the mood seemed to shift. She wasn’t the only one nervous, she could tell. But for whatever reason, it seemed they were both desperate to cover that up. Act like this was a normal occasion, when it was anything but.

  Finally, Cynthia took control. “It couldn’t have been easy for you to come here. Believe me, I get that.” She paused. “I imagine you have questions. I’m not sure how much you know, so why don’t we start there.”

  Brooklyn could do that. While she did have a lot of questions, she had one in particular that she needed to ask above all others. Because it wasn’t just a question, it was the question. “I guess I’d like to start with why did you give me up?”

  Cynthia nodded and studied her coffee before raising a thoughtful gaze. As her eyes settled on Brooklyn, she started to speak. “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen. A sophomore in college who knew nothing about life. I had just learned how to do my own laundry, if that helps put it in perspective. In order to pay for my tuition, I’d taken out student loans and was already in debt. At night, I waited tables at a pizza place to have enough money for groceries. I was barely keeping my head above water, and some days I wasn’t even doing that. And then I got the results from an at-home pregnancy test. I was beyond shocked. At first, I thought I could find a way to make it work. To keep you. I thought I could drop out of school and work full-time. But I didn’t exactly have any job skills, and waiting tables didn’t come with medical benefits. And as my very vocal parents pointed out, babies need medical care.”

  “So your parents were against you keeping the baby? Me. I’m sorry, this is all very strange for me.”

  Cynthia managed a smile through the angst that telling the story seemed to bring about. “Trust me, I sympathize.” She continued. “My parents were never easy people to get along with. And yes, they were big advocates of adoption. They pointed out all of the things I couldn’t give you and made it clear that they weren’t willing to help. At all. In fact, if I did keep you, they planned to cut me off entirely.”

  Brooklyn sat forward. “I see. Was my father in the picture at all?”

  She nodded. “Yes, actually. The whole way. He was a student as well and a year ahead of me. We were in a relationship at the time. He was very supportive but didn’t have a lot to offer financially. But it didn’t matter. We decided we were going to make it work.”

  “Can I ask his name?”

  She paused, and a glimpse of unease crossed her face. “Aaron. His name is Aaron.”

  Brooklyn blew out a breath as the new information settled. Her father’s name was Aaron. “So what made you change your mind?”

  “The further along I got in the pregnancy, the more real you became to me.” Her eyes began to fill, the emotion taking over. “I was no longer wanting things out of life for just me. I was wanting them for you, and I had to consider that. Aaron and I broke up, and that was hard. Though he was still planning to help, I felt very alone at that point in my life. Brooklyn, it was the most difficult decision I’ve ever made, but in the end, I just thought someone else could do it better.”

  And there was the blow.

  Because no one ever had. That someone never came along.

  It wasn’t Cynthia’s fault. She’d made the best decision she could with the information in front of her. Brooklyn knew that on a rational level, but it still stung. Maybe because she sensed her discomfort, Jessica took Brooklyn’s hand and held on tight. Brooklyn sent her a glance of gratitude and offered a squeeze to reassure Jessica that she was managing.

  She turned back to Cynthia. “What happened next?”

  “My parents put me in touch with an adoption agency. We agreed that it would be a closed adoption and I wouldn’t have access to further knowledge about how you were doing or where you were. That part was hard, but it’s what the counselors recommended. Open adoptions are more common now, but back then they were less prevalent.”

  Brooklyn opened her mouth to ask another question, but they were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Cynthia closed her eyes as if to brace herself. “I’m sorry. I thought for sure we’d have more time.”

  Brooklyn held out a hand to reassure her. “It’s okay. We can finish later.” She stood as a man, most likely Cynthia’s husband, entered the room with a younger man and a girl trailing behind him. She focused on the older of the two men first. He was tall, with light-brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Smiling, she extended her hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Brooklyn.”

  He accepted her hand and held on, fixated on her.

  Cynthia stepped forward. “Brooklyn, I’d like you to meet my husband.”

  “Aaron Mathis,” he supplied, holding her gaze. Aaron. She looked to Cynthia in question and saw the answer right there in her eyes. Oh, God. Finally, Cynthia nodded in response.

  “I was planning to explain first. I thought we’d have time.”

  Brooklyn turned back to him, blown away. “You’re my father.”

  He nodded, seeming just as mystified. “I can’t believe I’m standing here looking at you. All this time and you’re here.” He was smiling, but there was a weight to it. He stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. Numb. That’s how she felt as this man, her father, held onto her. His arms were strong and he smelled fa
intly of cologne. But that’s all she was aware of, really. Those were the only two facts her mind seemed capable of comprehending. As he released her, she was introduced to Ethan, her brother, and Catherine, her younger sister. Apparently, she went by Cat. They were both friendly but forgivably nervous.

  Her brain struggled to catch up.

  It hadn’t made the leap yet.

  As these new people smiled and hugged her, she did her best to reciprocate, to go through the motions of how a normal person would conduct herself in this situation, but the details were all running together in her head, and the walls felt like they were somehow getting closer and closer by the minute. She felt a hand on her back and turned in time to meet Jessica’s gaze. And she took a minute there, because those understanding eyes reeled her back in. If she could just focus on Jessica, everything would be okay. “I think it’s time to eat,” Jessica said quietly, redirecting her.

  And that made sense because as she looked around, she saw a series of large containers laid out on the counter in the kitchen. They’d brought dinner with them. And Ethan and Catherine, Cat, she mentally corrected, moved easily about the room, getting the trays of food prepped and ready for everyone. She watched them and couldn’t help but take in how comfortable they were in the space. They knew which drawer to open without hesitation as they brushed past each other in such an everyday manner. It was their kitchen. This was their home. And these were their parents.

  And she was visiting.

  She looked around. This should have been her family in some faraway parallel universe.

  “Do you drink tea?” Cat asked, smiling as she filled the glasses in front of her. Brooklyn remembered Cynthia saying she was seventeen. Her hair was blond, but a darker shade than her own. She was a beautiful girl.

  Realizing she’d been spoken to, Brooklyn blinked, trying to clear her head and remember the question. “I’m sorry?”