Child of Mine (29 page)

“Nattie does, of course . . .” Jack began.
And so
do I.
“But there haven't been as many tears as I'd expected.”

Kelly nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “I can't imagine how Nattie must feel, losing her nanny after so long.”

Kelly had no idea of the events that had led to Laura's quitting, and he certainly wasn't going to tell her. Without Kelly in their life, of course, losing Laura would have seemed unbearable.

Kelly's path finally crossed Laura's one day when Laura dropped off Nattie after a visit to the farm, and Kelly happened to show up a little early. Jack heard about it from Kelly and later that night from Nattie.

Apparently Kelly and Laura went overboard to make nice, and according to Nattie, there wasn't anything fakey about it. Laura even led Kelly to the back porch swing while Nattie ran inside to grab some iced tea for everyone.

Nattie said that Kelly asked Laura about her gardening, commenting on what a wonderful job she'd done, and Laura thanked Kelly for her kindness.

Upon hearing Nattie's account, Jack felt strangely conflicted. He still missed Laura, and not just as his nanny, but as someone with whom he'd shared his life. And now, with Laura physically gone, he couldn't help feeling that he'd been going through a weird kind of rebound with Laura's departure. He didn't want to tell Kelly this, of course, but as it turned out, he'd underestimated Kelly's powers of observation.

After dinner one evening, while Nattie was playing upstairs, he asked Kelly how she might have felt if Laura were still working for them. Kelly gave a thoughtful reply. “It would have been fine for me. But . . . it might have been tricky for Laura.”

She touched his arm. “Is that too honest?”

He took this in, absorbing the tender look in her eyes. “Does it bother you?”

Kelly shrugged. “I'm not worried about Laura, if that's what you mean. I don't play the jealous game, Jack. If we are meant to be, we'll be together.”

He gave this more thought. She squeezed his hand again with reassurance. “I knew from the beginning that you might have had feelings for her.”

Jack winced. But she was right. Forgetting Laura hadn't been easy. By now, he'd even expected his feelings for Laura to have vanished. But they hadn't.

He sighed softly. “So . . . why did you take a chance on me, Kelly?”

She bit her lip and gave him a humorous smile. “What can I say? I like blue-eyed blonds.”

Jack laughed and squeezed her hand. “I don't want to lose you over this.”

“You won't.”

One hot summer day, Kelly drove down after work, meeting Jack at home. Nattie was gone to a friend's, no doubt commiserating about the upcoming start of school.

Jack met her at the door. “I'm almost finished with something.” She followed him into his office and waited, reviewing his aviation wall, marveling again at the signature by Wilbur Wright. She also noticed the picture of Jack with his father, taken in front of an older 172. Jack joined her at the wall.

“You're right,” Kelly said, leaning in closer. “San looks like your father.”

Jack touched her arm and sighed. “Maybe . . . but she still reminds me of my mother.”

“You two seem close.”

Jack shrugged. “I don't know if anyone really gets that close to San.”

“How did your father die?” Kelly asked.

“Coroner's report says cardiac arrest. But as far as I'm concerned, he died of a broken heart.”

Kelly seemed to consider this. “You have no pictures of your mother?”

“Only one I keep in a drawer.”
In
the dark,
he thought. Kelly leaned closer to him, slipping her arm around his waist, still staring at the picture of his father.

“Do you have any
good
memories of her, Jack?”

Jack shook his head. “If I do, they're buried beneath the bad ones.”

Kelly went silent.

“I don't hate her,” Jack said, as if trying to convince himself. “I just don't want to be reminded of her.”

He could tell she was holding her tongue. Actually, most of the time, he probably did despise his mother, although he'd been fighting it for a lifetime. Lately, considering the dustups with San, encountering her razor-sharp tongue, he seemed to be losing the war.

“I'm trying, Kelly. Some days are better than others. That's the hardest part. For the longest time I drowned my anger in the same thing that had made her so hateful. Alcohol.”

“She must have been in a lot of pain.”

Jack scoffed. “The only pain I remember is the pain she caused my father. As far as I'm concerned, she took my father from me.” And then he sighed with embarrassment. “Like I said, I
am
trying.”

Kelly hugged him. “I don't think we ever feel like forgiving until we do. I think the feeling comes after the choice. We have to step out in faith. Besides, forgiveness isn't for her, you know. It's for you.”

She looked up at him apologetically. “I guess my short marriage taught me a thing or two about the subject. Was that too preachy?”

He shook his head. Coming from San, it would have felt like
a lecture. Coming from Kelly, it felt like hope, but he was taken aback. She rarely talked about her husband.

“Someday it'll just click into place,” she said. “You're almost there, you know. I mean . . . that's what I like about you, Jack. You always see the best in everyone.”

Obviously
not,
he thought.

“We all want to be remembered for our better moments,” she said softly. And then she chuckled. “I know
I
do!”

Jack kissed her cheek, unable to remember a single “better” moment with his mother, much less a good one. “Here's a good thing,” he said wryly. “Mom reminds me of what I don't want to be.”

They headed out the door to the airfield, and thirty minutes later, they were in the air again—only the second time they'd flown together. This time, Kelly was noticeably less nervous. They flew over the lake they'd walked around after that first dinner date, and Kelly marveled at the sight. “It's sooo tiny!”

“We're two thousand feet aboveground.” He laughed. “It
should
look tiny.”

He turned to the north and asked her, “Wanna land it again?”

Her eyes widened. “I don't think so, Jack. No. But thanks for asking.”

He smiled, continuing their short tour, pointing out further Wooster landmarks. An hour later, he landed the plane, and they headed to the off-ramp. When he pulled up, he set the brake and shut it down. Kelly grabbed his shirt, pulled him closer, and kissed him.

“What was that for?”

“For taking me into the clouds, Jack. In every way.”

Jack laughed and kissed her back.

Later, they stopped at the coffee shop and sat at “their booth” for another hour as Kelly described the thrill she felt in the air. He was only remotely aware of the sounds around him, the explosive guffaw of the table of men, the whoosh of the coffee machine, the whine of a small child. He was too busy thinking about the thrill
he felt knowing this incredible woman.
What if she'd never
come back?
he thought, remembering that first day when he'd told her Nattie's bully story.

He must have been staring at her too intently, because she blushed. Holding her mug, she turned away. “You're cute, Jack.”

He took a breath and took a chance. “You and I have something else in common.”

Smiling, Kelly waited expectantly.

“We both lost our favorite parent.”

Kelly grinned, agreeing. “I look like my mother, but I have my father's temperament.”

“Me too,” Jack replied. They shared a laugh.

“I was my daddy's girl,” Kelly continued. “I think Mom always felt a bit like she was on the outside looking in, not that it bothered her. She was always so busy. Motherhood never really defined her life. She's the type who feels like now that she's done raising her daughter, it's time to move on.” Kelly sighed softly, holding her mug. “I love her dearly, and she loves me, but . . . we're not close. We have so little in common. It's like we struggle to find a reason to talk to each other.”

Jack reached for her hand. “You mentioned your husband earlier.”

Kelly shrugged, but he could sense a sudden tension.

“Have you forgiven
him
?” Jack asked. It was a leading question, but he was curious about a part of her life she rarely addressed.

“I have,” Kelly said simply. “But it took years, you know, so I understand the difficulty you might have.”

“But . . .
how
did you do it?”

She cleared her throat. “I think I finally realized . . .” She took a breath, pausing, then met his eyes. “He was driven by his addiction and didn't grasp the consequences of what he was doing. He was trapped within his own skin.”

Jack squeezed her hand, feeling the intensity of the moment, sensing she wanted to talk about this but also guessing the topic
was uncomfortable. “What was so difficult to forgive?” Then he shook his head, regretting the question. “No . . . sorry . . . that's too personal.”

But she was shaking her head. “No, it's not. Not for
us.
” Tears welled up. “Jack, there is something I need to tell you. . . .”

He waited, overwhelmed by her emotion. She opened her mouth, and then seemed to reconsider, as if steeling herself from the pain of something she could barely address. “But . . . I'm not ready.”

She seemed to shrink before his eyes, suddenly deflated. Jack tried to encourage her, smiling, and it confirmed his deeper perspective that there was way more to Kelly than met the eye. “Of course. I'm here when you're ready. I can wait.”

“I believe you, Jack.”

At her car, he reached for the handle, and her door creaked open. He made a mental note to oil it the next time she came. “I wish you never had to go home.”

She shrugged, getting in. “I don't mind the drive.” He closed the door, and Kelly leaned through the open window.

“That's not what I meant.”

“I
know
what you meant,” she said, smiling coyly. “I can't exactly pitch a tent in your backyard.”

Jack laughed at her humorous dodge, and Kelly reached out and took his hand. “You don't know me that well, Mr. Livingston. I have many more surprises for you.”

“I can't wait,” he said, releasing her hand reluctantly.

Jack watched her roll down the street, thinking he should maybe forget oiling the hinges and just help her find another set of wheels.

He recalled their conversation about his mother. Kelly was right. He was losing the battle of forgiveness, and he needed to try harder and pray more. Lingering arguments with San only exacerbated his angry memories. But really, the last thing Jack needed was a picture of his mother on his wall. He swallowed and made yet another promise to do better.

Thinking of Kelly and the influence she was having over the smallest details in his life, he wondered how on earth a naïve, marriage-phobic man like himself was so blessed to find someone like her. He was tempted to pinch himself.

Thank you,
he whispered.

S
an called on Thursday morning, just after seven. They hadn't spoken much in weeks, and sadly, Jack hadn't minded the silence. Having spent the night with a friend, Nattie was gone and wouldn't be back until early afternoon.

Glancing at the ID first, Jack answered the phone, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes.

“Are you sitting down?” San asked.

“Actually, I'm still lying down.” Jack stretched himself into a pretzel configuration, yawning loudly. “What's up, sis?”

“I got to thinking about this Kelly of yours, how much I liked her, and how she looked so familiar, like I'd seen her on TV or something.”

Jack cleared his throat, fighting a sudden sinking feeling.

“And so I Googled her,” San continued. “I did a little search on her name and Akron, Ohio, and I came up with the Maines family. No big surprise, right? So I muddled through a dozen pages and was about to give up, when I found this website . . . and lo and behold, it appears to be Kelly's website.”

Jack could feel his stomach tighten. Kelly had never mentioned a website. “Don't you mean Kelly's Facebook page?”

“Nope,” San said. She cleared her throat again. “It's called: Finding My Emily.”

Jack considered this. “Who's Emily?”

“Who do you think it is?”

Exasperated with San's dramatic flair, Jack rubbed his eyelids. “I don't know—her sister?”

“Try again.”

Jack exhaled with frustration. “Okay. Her daughter?”

“Bingo.”

Jack took this in. “So . . . she needs help finding her daughter?”

He leaned over the bed, elbows on his knees, adding
daughter
to the list of things she hadn't mentioned. “Are you sure you have the right person?”

“Click on the info and you'll get her picture, brother dearest,” San said, laying it out in glaring detail. “Plus, there are pictures of what Emily would look like today. And who do you think Emily would look like?”

Along with his growing stomachache, Jack felt the beginning of a headache in the corner of his temple.

“I'll tell you,” she said. “Emily looks like Natalie, Jack. She looks
exactly
like Natalie.”

Jack took a long, deep breath.

“How did you meet her again?” San asked.

“The office,” he whispered softly.

“You okay, Jack?”

“No.”

“Me either,” San muttered.

So that's why we met. She's been
looking for her child.
He tried to wrap his brain around the whole thing, but the most obvious implication came crashing through:
She lied.

“I haven't told you everything,” San continued. “She didn't give her child up for adoption, Jack. Her child was
kidnapped
 . . . by Emily's father.”

New shivers started in his gut and spread throughout his body.

“Apparently Kelly's husband stole Emily and ran off to New York City. He sold her.”

Sold her?
Jack whistled softly.

“Some kind of black-market adoption web, and he must have received a ton of money. At least that's what Kelly asserts on her website.”

“This can't be true, sis,” Jack insisted. “What kind of father would sell his own daughter?”

“Maybe a stoner?”

Jack scratched his head, wishing he could start the day all over.

“Apparently this dude was really whacked out. But there's more, Jack.”

It gets worse?

“This Bobby Maines OD'd in a hotel, and with his death, any solid link to Emily was gone forever.” San sighed into the phone. “But I
still
haven't told you the worst part.”

San, the master of dragging it out.

“The police hardly looked for the kid. Because they suspected Kelly and her husband were working together.”

“Was she charged?”

“No,” San responded. “And personally? I find it hard to believe that she had anything to do with it. Why spend eight years looking for your kid if you're responsible?”

“But still . . .”

They were silent as the mind-boggling implications set in.

He felt as if his entire life were falling away, as if he'd been living in a house of cards and it was now all crashing down around him.

They'd been dating for over a month, and he didn't have a clue as to Kelly's real identity. Suddenly, she was a stranger. Finally Jack broke the silence. “If Natalie
is
her biological daughter, why hasn't she said something? Why this dating ruse? Why not just say, ‘
Hey, I think your kid is mine'
?”

“That's what I don't understand,” San admitted. “But I have a couple options for us to consider.”

“Shoot.”

“Thinking she's found Emily, Kelly now wants to be fully involved in her life, knowing that she wouldn't be if she came clean and took you to court. Because at this point, the courts probably wouldn't give her full custody. So Kelly wants to marry you in order to have Nattie in her life.”

Jack cringed as San continued. “Here's another option. What if Kelly simply can't bring herself to tell you the truth, and she's been trying to work up the courage?”

“Truth about what? That Nattie is hers?”

“Or . . . that Nattie
isn'
t
hers. Maybe when she found out that Nattie wasn't hers, she couldn't break free. Maybe she's truly in love with you, Jack.”

“There's another option,” he suggested. “Maybe she doesn't even know one way or another . . . yet.”

San scoffed. “I really doubt that.”

So did he. Jack blew out an exasperated breath. “So you think she's tested Nattie?”

“Don't
you
?”

Of course,
he thought.

Jack stood up and headed for the bathroom. Mercilessly, San wasn't finished yet. “Like I said, I think she already knows Nattie isn't her daughter, which is why she hasn't said anything, and that's also why I think she's for real.”

“For real?”

“She loves you.”

Looking in the mirror, Jack studied the anger in his eyes. “Maybe we're missing the most obvious: She intends to kidnap Nattie.”

San snorted. “I
really,
really
doubt that, Jack. I mean, yes, she's lied through her teeth, but she'd have to be a sociopath or something, and I just don't see it.”

Jack continued staring at his reflection, a strange image of him holding the phone, his hair spurting out in Einstein fashion.

“We can't assume anything, San.”

“No, I understand that—”

“I need to protect Nattie.”

“It's too soon to lawyer up,” she argued. “Just tell her you know the truth and see what she says. You might be surprised and find she has a perfectly rational excuse for why she hasn't told you. She's probably sick about the whole thing.”

Jack shook his head, still trying to come to grips with the situation. “How can you be so relaxed about this?”

“Jack, I'm not—”

“One way or another,” he continued, “I need to find out for myself if Nattie is her daughter.”

“And how are you going to do that without asking Kelly for her DNA?”

Jack jogged his memory. “I have a couple of ideas.”

“If you're going to do this, you have to do it right, Jack. You have to get a sample from her.
Directly.
”

No, I don't,
he thought. And he wasn't ready to confront her, not until he knew the truth for himself. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do—confront her
before
he knew what he was talking about.

“Jack, what are you thinking?”

“I'll call you back, San.”