Natalie shrugged.
“C’mon, Nat. I’m trying to help you here. Tell me who I’m dealing with.”
“I don’t know! I got these prescription drugs from this one supplier for a long time without paying him. Then this guy came after me. I don’t even know who he is.”
“What made you think you could—”
“You’re talking to an addict, stupid. Don’t you get that yet?”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“They kept telling me as soon as they got their money, they would be out of my life for good.”
“If we can believe that. So what are your plans now? Find your car and go back to the motel?”
“I’d rather live at Mom’s.”
Paige drew in a long breath—that wasn’t going to happen if she could help it.
“You’re addicted to drugs and alcohol, both of which are expensive. You’re irresponsible, pregnant, and broke. You are not staying at Mom’s. What do you plan to do?”
Natalie looked down at the floor without responding.
“What about what’s-his-name? Derek.”
Natalie glared at Paige. “What about him?”
“Is he the father? Can he help you out of the mess you’re in?”
“Nope.”
“Nope, he’s not the father, or nope, he can’t help you?”
“Both.”
“So who’s the father?”
“It could be the fucking mailman’s, for all I know. Are you happy now?”
“You need to go into rehab, Natalie. And not some thirty-day place, a real rehab where they’ll know how to take care of you and your unborn baby. If I find a place that will take you, will you go?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Sure. You can continue down the self-destructive path you’re on and end up homeless or dead, not to mention what will become of your baby.”
Natalie wobbled her head from side to side in a weary compromise between nodding “yes” and shaking “no.”
“I’ll go. I’ll go,” she said.
Waiting for the call from Natalie’s “creditor” didn’t take long. The man on the phone explained that the amount owed had increased to six thousand due to interest and told her to leave the envelope of cash in her mother’s mailbox at precisely eight o’clock the following evening, and if she notified the police, or if anything went wrong, they knew where she lived.
Paige vacillated between complying with the caller’s instructions and calling the police. Desperately wanting this goon out of their lives, and knowing that involving the police would only open up a new can of worms for Natalie and potentially herself, she decided on what she hoped wasn’t going to turn out to be a foolish choice.
At eight o’clock, from the second-story window of her mother’s home, Paige watched a silver sedan stop in front of the house next door. A dark figure, with a hoodie concealing most of his face, calmly walked toward her house, and seconds later walked away with his hands in his pockets. She jotted down the license plate number, then tucked it away for future reference, if needed.
Chapter 48
“You can stay here, sleep on the sofa, whatever, until you go to rehab,” Jessivel told Natalie. She felt sorry for her and wanted to help make her transition as painless as possible. “Tomorrow we can pick up your things from the motel, if you want. And find your car. Put gas in it. I have an empty gas can in my trunk.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Natalie asked.
“We’re sisters, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“I know, but you have no stake in it, so—”
“I have to have some stake in it to help someone?” Jessivel asked, only to be immediately reminded that these were her feelings about Paige not that long ago.
“What about your daughter?” Natalie asked.
“What about her?”
“What will she think?”
“She knows about you. She’ll be okay with it. Besides, I have a feeling it won’t be that long before Paige finds a place for you. She’s dogged when it comes to things like this.”
“Looks like you know her pretty well.”
“It took me a while.” Jessivel grimaced at the pained expression on Natalie’s face. “She’s not that bad, you know.”
“Try being her little sister.”
“I have, remember?”
Natalie took a hard, obvious swallow. “Thanks for helping me,” she stammered. “I know you don’t have to.”
Jessivel nodded, a fulfilling weariness running through her body. “You’re welcome.”
It was Saturday, Natalie’s first full day of staying with Jessivel, when Paige called her. All Jessivel could hear was Natalie’s side of the conversation.
“I’ve been thinking, and I’m pretty sure I can do this on my own,” Natalie said after a couple of minutes. “I don’t need to go to rehab. I’m not that bad. I’ve done it before.”
“And it’s too expensive.”
“Well, I don’t want to go. I’ve been to these before. They don’t work.”
“I’m not going, Paige.”
“Why are you doing this to me? Your own flesh and blood.”
Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. “You have no idea how painful detox is. I can’t go through it again,” she moaned.
Her body appeared to go limp as she listened to Paige. “Okay, I’ll go,” she mumbled before hanging up.
“What’s going on?” Jessivel asked.
“She’s sending me to a treatment center for pregnant women. A hundred frickin’ miles from here.”
“This is a good thing, right?”
“I’ve been to them before. They don’t help.”
“Maybe this one is different.”
“I doubt it. She told me she’s not paying the motel bill after the fifteenth and she’s in control of Mom’s house, so I don’t have much choice.”
“You have to think of the baby though.”
“I know.” A negligible smile unfolded on her face. “This baby needs me.”
“You are so right.”
“And it’s something Paige can’t do.”
“What do you mean?”
Her focus went straight to her swollen tummy. “She can’t have children.”
Monday morning, on the day Paige was to drive Natalie to rehab, Jessivel discovered Natalie missing. She immediately called Paige and reluctantly admitted her failure to keep an eye on her.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Paige asked.
“She left a note saying she couldn’t go through with it.” Jessivel paused before telling her the rest. “And she stole money from my purse.”
“Damn her!”
“I know she’s been hurting, physically I mean. And then last night she was acting really weird. Wouldn’t eat. Wanted to be alone. Seemed to be on something, but I’m not sure. Maybe I should have called you.”
“You don’t know what time she left?”
“No. She was gone when I got up at six.”
“Could you do me a favor and come with me to search for her?”
“Sure. What about work though?”
“The work will still be there when you return. And you’ll be on the clock anyway.”
“I won’t do it if you pay me,” Jessivel said. “She’s my sister too.”
Jessivel rode shotgun with Paige as they scoured the route between the Roadway Inn where Natalie was staying and Paige’s office, searching for either Natalie on foot or her car, a bright blue 2003 Acura. Paige talked about Natalie while she drove.
“She’s been going through this for a long time,” she explained to Jessivel. Paige told her about the car accident that had changed Natalie’s life.
“How long ago was it?”
“She’s thirty-nine now, and she was seventeen when it happened, so twenty-two years ago, but I don’t think she ever got over it. It was terrible in the beginning—she had nightmares, panic attacks, and on top of it, excruciatin
g back pain from the collision. The worst of it for her I think was that she couldn’t get the images of the accident out of her head, especially the paramedics carrying the child from where he had landed on the street to the ambulance, draped in a white sheet from head to toe.”
“I’m sure that had to be hard.”
“She talked about it in the beginning—how helpless she felt trapped in an awkward, painful position waiting for someone to extract her from her own vehicle. But later she clammed up whenever anyone brought it up, so we stopped talking about it. Maybe we should have persisted. I don’t know.”
“Look! Is that her car?” Jessivel asked.
Paige’s gaze traveled to where Jessivel was pointing.
“Could be. Same color.” She drove to the suspect car and parked.
Paige peeked inside and gasped.
“Is it her?”
“Yes.” Paige tried the door. It opened and several mini liquor bottles spilled out.
“Natalie?”
When Paige got no response from her, she gently shook her. When she still couldn’t rouse her, she tugged on her shoulder to see her face. Upon seeing the dried vomit plastered on her cheek, she called 9-1-1.
Waiting for the paramedics proved torturous—the dispatcher had advised them to remain calm, keep Natalie on her side, and not do anything else. Remaining calm wasn’t possible.
When the paramedics arrived and examined Natalie, they told Paige they were taking her to Brighton Center Hospital where they had a separate substance-abuse facility. Paige and Jessivel followed them there. While they waited to see Natalie, Paige called the rehab facility where she had enrolled her and explained the situation. They agreed to have her transported to their facility as soon as she was able to make the trip.
Watching Paige come to her sister’s aid allowed Jessivel the opportunity to see Paige in a different light. The only thing motivating her to help Natalie had to have been love for and devotion to her sister. No hidden agenda, no self-serving intentions. Just sincere allegiance to a family member in need.
“Paige?” Jessivel asked as they were leaving the hospital.
“Yes.”
“Can we start over?”
“What do you mean?”
“You and me. Clean slate. Forget what a jerk I was in the beginning.”
“So…does this mean you don’t think I’m a tight-ass bitch anymore?”
Jessivel felt the warmth of blood rush up her neck.
“Like I said, can we start over?”
Paige smiled as she placed her hand on top of Jessivel’s.
“Jess, you needn’t ask.”
Chapter 49
Paige leaned back in her favorite chair and stared at the two envelopes she had retrieved from her mother’s floor safe, trying to muster up the courage to open the first one—the padded one, the one she suspected could hold the mysterious stones Leland told her had been her father's. She made a small slit on one end, then stopped to make a decisive call.
An hour later, she and Jessivel sat at Paige’s kitchen table with glasses of wine.
“Ready?” Paige asked her.
“Let’s go for it.”
Paige finished cutting the top of the envelope. A dozen or so small colorful stones tumbled out onto the table followed by one larger, intensely blue one. They exchanged glances.
Jessivel picked up the large blue stone and rolled it around in the palm of her hand. “This is humongous. Do you think it’s real?”
“I’m thinking these wouldn’t have been in my parents’ safe if they weren’t. Let me see that one.” Jessivel handed the stone to Paige. “If this is what I think it is, it’s worth a small fortune.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Alexandrite. Wait here a minute.”
When Paige returned, she handed Jessivel a ring. “My parents gave this to me when I graduated from college. They told me it was insured for $10,000. It’s not even a tenth the size of this one.”
“Are you sure? They don’t look the same to me.”
“The one in my ring has been cut and polished. This one is raw.”
“Wow.”
“Now, it could also be glass—the one in the envelope, I mean. I’d have to get it appraised. There’s just one catch.”
“What’s that?”
“The way Leland told me the story—and I don’t know how accurate his understanding is—but according to him, our father met this Indian woman while he was I the service, and she smuggled these into the U.S. by stuffing them into a teddy bear by sending the bear to Dad.”
“A teddy bear?”
“That’s what he said.”
Jessivel told Paige about the teddy bear Kayla had found in her grandfather’s suitcase.
“What? The same one, you think?” Paige asked.
“Sounds like it. You said it had on striped pants, right?”
“Right.”
“I opened it up based on what my mother had told me. Nothing was inside, but it looked to me like the seam I opened had been hand-stitched.”
“Is the teddy bear you have big enough to hold all these?”
“Easily.”
“Do you think your mother knows anything about the stones?”
“She said she didn’t know what was inside of the bear, that it was something Dad didn’t want her to know about.”
Paige scooped up some of the colorful stones and rolled them around in her hands. “Holy shit.”
“Paige, I’ve only heard you swear one other time!”
“Holy freakin’ shit.”
Paige had considered opening the other envelope with Jessivel present but then decided against it in case it contained something not relevant to her, something she didn’t want to share with her or maybe anyone. She opened it after Jessivel left.
The envelope contained three documents, the top one a birth certificate for Andrea Meyers. “Who the hell is Andrea Meyers?” she asked herself out loud. She perused the rest of the information.
PLACE OF BIRTH: SAN DIEGO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA
CITY: SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA
FULL NAME OF CHILD: ANDREA ELLEN MEYERS
DATE OF BIRTH: JANUARY 1, 1976
SEX OF CHILD: FEMALE
FATHER’S FULL NAME: RYAN ALAN WEST
FATHER’S AGE: 23
FATHER’S BIRTHPLACE: CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
FATHER’S OCCUPATION: U. S. ARMY
MOTHER’S FULL MAIDEN NAME: ROSE LYNN MEYERS
MOTHER’S AGE: 31
MOTHER’S BIRTHPLACE: SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA
MOTHER’S OCCUPATION: HOSTESS
“What…another sibling!”
Paige reread the document. The girl had been born on the same day as she, in a different part of the country, but on the same day. How weird is that!
Paige set the other envelope aside as she took a swallow of wine.
Her mother must have known about this child—the birth certificate had been in with documents that would have been familiar to her. But then why hadn’t she written this woman’s name on her will as an added beneficiary? Didn’t make sense.
Next was a typewritten letter addressed to her.
Dear Paige,
If you are reading this letter, it probably means I’m not on this earth any longer. And even if this letter is the last thing you’ve read of the things I left behind, you likely have questions. Here goes.
Paige glanced down to the bottom of the page expecting to see her father’s signature. But it hadn’t been signed by him. It had been signed by her mother.
I knew from an early age that I wanted to have children. I wanted a family, a nice family, something I didn’t have as a child myself. So when I was told I couldn’t have children six months after I married your father, I was devastated. I became depressed, so depressed that I thought of taking my own life.
Paige stopped reading and contemplated her mother’s words. She knew her mother had had bouts of feeling down during her life, but nothing
this serious. Had she felt so hopeless that it overshadowed the good things in her life, to the point of her believing suicide was the best solution? This concept was difficult for Paige to grasp for anyone, let alone her own mother. But what she didn’t understand to even a greater extent was her mother’s assertion that she couldn’t have children. Obviously not true. She read on.
I didn’t leave the house for months at a time. Your father and I became so distant—I didn’t wonder if he would leave me, I wondered when.
One day, he came home from one of his business trips and said he had met another woman, Rose Meyers. I fell apart. After that, he was gone for some months, and I was ready to take a whole bottle of sleeping pills. But then he returned. With a baby. That baby was you. Had your birth mother not died of cancer a short time after you were born, I never would have known you, would have never seen your father again, and I’d have been dead at a much earlier age.
The shocking rush of truth kept Paige from reading on. She closed her eyes, and as she sensed her upper-body muscles grow weak, she gradually absorbed the impact of what she’d just learned.
I bless the day you were born, Paige. I feel like I saved your life. And I know you saved mine.
Paige shifted her position in the chair, dumbfounded by her mother’s affirmation. Never had she had any doubt about Elaine West being her biological mother. She even resembled her—same facial features, same slim build, same curly hair. Her mother had raised another woman’s child all these years—the child of her husband’s mistress. Despite her mother’s warm, loving words in this letter, she wondered how her mother truthfully felt about this.
Paige looked away from the page and wished she hadn’t started to read the damn letter—maybe this was one of those things in life better not to know.
Your father and I stayed together, raising you, but we didn’t have a traditional marriage. He spent more time with other women that he did with me. But we had our moments. After all, I gave birth to Natalie three years later. Doctors aren’t always right.
The Ring Page 27