Child of Mine (39 page)

He missed her terribly. And so did Nattie. And yet, Laura was right. They were doing okay without her. Not flourishing, maybe, but they hadn't fallen apart.

Jack put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his squeaky chair.

San made a face. “You should oil that.”

“And stifle the chair's only voice? Never,” Jack retorted, chuckling.

San rolled her eyes, then turned uncharacteristically pensive. She asked about Laura, and Jack told her what he'd just heard.

She nodded. “I hope it works out.”

They sat in silence. He'd already decided not to broach the subject, taking Laura's advice.
“Be gentle. We
keep secrets for a reason.”

San had obviously long ago decided she didn't want anyone to know the truth. As a seventeen-year-old with her life ahead of her, already dreaming of college and a career in fashion, San wasn't ready for motherhood and wouldn't have let one mistake alter that track. Her reasons were her reasons. And with Danny and Darla eager to become parents, the solution would have seemed clear. Besides, San wasn't the kind to contemplate deeper meanings or shoulder regrets.

Wisely, Jack was weary of confronting women about their supposed maternity. He'd already done that twice, with disastrous results.

Strangely enough, it was San who broached the subject. “You never told me what
your
test said,” she mentioned, referring to the hair samples.

He told her, and she frowned. “So . . . your test result was different from Kelly's?”

Jack nodded.

“She did
her
test by swabbing Nattie's cheek?”

He nodded again. Nattie had told him as much, a few days after Kelly had walked out.
“The lollipop trick,”
Nattie had called it, and he'd put two and two together.

San made another face. “Well . . . that's why your test was wrong. Hair samples are notoriously unreliable, you know. Subject to contamination.”

Jack felt a sinking feeling. San wasn't ready, and that was fine. Maybe none of them were ready.

San got up from her chair, and he turned toward his desk. He felt her hand on his shoulder. “G'night, bro. And by the way, you're a great father.”

He swallowed, his throat tight. And then she was gone.

Moments later, Nattie came in and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm sad,” she told him, leaning against his shoulder, putting her arm around her dad.

“Me too.”

She scampered upstairs, but not without making sure they were on for a story later. And while waiting in his office, he considered San's response to the DNA, but it didn't bother him.

Days ago, he'd asked Nattie if San ever sat in the swing, where he'd gathered the hair samples. Nattie had cocked her head like a puppy. “Are you kidding? Auntie San
loves
the swing!”

He'd only chuckled. Of course, for his own peace of mind, he already had redone the test. He'd submitted no less than ten strands of San's hair, root and all, extracted from her hairbrush, and had it tested against Nattie's DNA. He'd received the results in a few days. There was no doubt. Laura was right. San was Nattie's mother.

In the end, it seemed to Jack that San simply loved Nattie too much to raise her. And someday, when Nattie revisited the subject of her birth mother, as she probably would in a few years, he might call his sister and finally have it out.
“It's time,”
he might tell her, and she might agree.

Or she might not. Besides, how would Nattie respond when she learned that her aunt was actually her mother, and that her aunt had deliberately deceived her? At nine, not so well. At thirteen, not much better. At eighteen, maybe?

Would she feel betrayed?
Of course.
It could destroy their relationship. But he doubted it. Knowing her as he did, Nattie would come to grips with it eventually, but it wouldn't be pretty. Nattie approached changes with great drama.
We all
do,
he thought. But when it came to forgiving others, Nattie was a natural. She'd probably learned that from Laura.

In the meantime, he would withhold the truth until the moment was right, until he thought Nattie ready. And he suddenly thought of Kelly.
Kelly withheld the truth.
And here he was, doing the same thing.

Were we
ready for Kelly?
he thought, sighing with regret.

He had little recourse but to continue praying for the best, asking God for direction, knowing the storm was coming, yet believing that somehow they would get through it.

He thought of something else Kelly had said.
“Without the darkness, we would
all be deprived of the candle of faith.”

S
aturday, the three musketeers packed up the truck, stowed San's suitcase and carry-on bag in Jack's grungy truck bed, and headed out for the big airport, forty minutes to the north. Akron-Canton was San's preference for a direct flight to New York's LaGuardia.

For most of the way, they traveled in solemn silence, watching the landscape pass, until finally San broke the quiet, repeating to Nattie what she must have said a dozen times that week. “We'll video chat every Saturday morning. Until you tire of me.”

“I won't,” Nattie objected, her lower lip drooping, her head leaning against San's shoulder. San draped her arm around Nattie.

Jack dropped them off near the departure sign for U.S. Airways, then drove around again, taking the exit to park the truck.

He met them at the self-service ticketing kiosks, where San checked one bag, pleased about dodging the extra bag fee. “First class, baby!” Nothing made his sister happier than the prospect of luxury service.

After the clerk took her bag, San crept close and whispered in his ear, “Don't look now, but someone's here.”

“Who?” Nattie asked, displaying her keen sense of hearing.
Although Jack didn't catch San's meaning, he ignored Nattie's question and kissed the top of her head.

“Okay, don't tell me,” Nattie muttered.

San gave him another furtive look, and he glanced around, trying to appear casual, and finally spotted her. Kelly was there, conducting business at the Delta counter, accompanied by an older gentleman with bright white hair and Texan attire, complete with necktie.

Her father?
Jack speculated, then remembered her father had passed.

He shrugged toward San, who mouthed,
“You sure
missed the boat!”
He almost laughed at her final dig. Pure San.

Jack picked up her carry-on bag, and they walked across the hall, joining the end of the security line, a line which looked to be longer than usual, leaving them a good twenty-five minutes before San would enter the heart of TSA.

Jack wondered if Kelly would end up joining them in the same line, if only a few feet behind, and he worried how Nattie would respond. She'd probably pull on his shirt.
“Kelly
's here! Can I say hi?”

Jack whispered his intentions in San's ear and mussed Nattie's hair. He noted she was busy with her spiral notebook. He traced his way back to the ticket counter, keeping an eye peeled for Kelly.

He found her just outside the coffee shop, standing with the gentleman he'd seen earlier. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, greeting him without reservation.

“Kelly,” he said simply, smiling and hugging her as the tall Texan looked on, taking in her scent, remembering the way he felt when she was near. Regret swirled within him like a sickness, and he wished he'd never let her walk out of the house.

Kelly gestured toward the Texan and introduced him as Chet. “He's like a second father to me.”

Chet shook his hand, giving him a close scrutiny, his bushy eyebrows furrowing.

As if in answer to Jack's unspoken question, Kelly patted Chet's arm. “Jack knows everything.”

Chet's eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Everything?”

Kelly smiled at Jack. “Well . . . not the latest.” She seemed absolutely radiant, and he guessed her news immediately.

“May
I
?” Chet asked like a southern gentleman, slightly tipping his head toward her in a kind of deference.

“Please.”

Chet fixed him with a dignified expression. “We found Emily.”

Jack wasn't surprised, but he was taken aback by his own emotions. He felt terribly relieved for her. “Congratulations,” he said, looking at Kelly.

“I've just come back to box up the rest of my things. I'm moving to Chicago,” she announced, a wistful sadness now mingled with her obvious joy. “I get to meet her next week.” She looked away, and Jack felt another twinge of regret for how she must feel in his presence. This was her big moment, what she'd waited years for, and here he was, raining on her parade.

“I'm so happy for you,” Jack said, politely backing away. He glanced up the hallway and realized that San and Nattie had barely moved.

Kelly touched Chet's arm. “Jack's a pilot.” The admission appeared to raise his estimation in Chet's eyes, thus preventing Jack's quick escape. He chatted with them a few minutes longer as Chet peppered him with aviation questions. All the while, Kelly studied him. Apparently Chet had flown years ago and had always wanted to rediscover flight, now that he had the time for it. Their conversation ended when Jack offered his business card.

Chet pulled out his readers, studying the scant information. “So . . . you
teach
flying?”

Jack nodded.

“Excellent, young man.”

Jack finally managed a good-bye, which he and Kelly did without sharing another hug, although Chet clutched his hand like a good Texan should. “Expect my call.”

“I'll look forward to it,” Jack replied, backing away, giving Kelly a final nod.

He rejoined San and Nattie in line, glancing back to see Kelly and Chet heading into the coffee shop. With any luck, they wouldn't be in line when he and Nattie walked out of the airport.

San glanced at him, obviously curious about the conversation, and mouthed the words,
“You see her?”

He nodded. “It's all good.”

Nattie whipped around. “
What's
all good?”

“Noo Yawk, baby!” San said, and she tapped Nattie's head. Nattie gave Jack a suspicious look.
I know that's
not what you meant.

There were only three people ahead of them. They had seconds to go when San turned and locked eyes with him. He gave her a tender smile, and another flicker of knowing seemed to pass between them.

Jack touched her arm. “I love you, sis.”

San sighed miserably and reached for him.

Hugging her, Jack patted her back. “I can't wait to visit you in the Big Apple. Nattie's already stoked.”

“Thank you for being my brother,” she whispered, and he was about to let her go when she added, “And thank you . . . for the cemetery. It meant a lot to me. What you said, you know?”

He shrugged and was about to release her again, but she still wouldn't let go.

“I know you forgive Mom, but . . . do you forgive me, too?”

“Of course,” he murmured back.

“It wasn't a mistake,” she whispered. “Picking you. We always knew you were the best choice.”

Jack patted her back and felt her squeeze him even tighter, and before she broke away, she said, “Take care of our little girl, okay?”

He promised, and she finally let him go, turning to Nattie, who had been eyeing them curiously. San engulfed Nattie in her arms, and Nattie's eyes watered. Her lip quivered, and San popped her
chin gently. “Hey, hey, none of that crying stuff. I'll see you in
two
weeks!”

Nattie sniffed and nodded. “Two weeks. Promise?”

“Hope to die.”

Nattie laughed through her tears. “Don't say that.”

San grinned and Nattie stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

San shook on it. It was official. And by now, she was next in line. San wiped her eyes and extended her ID to the security agent, who examined it with a blue light, peered at the boarding pass, then handed everything back to San, officially clearing her through to the next phase of examination.

Jack and Nattie ducked out of line and watched San as she headed for the conveyer belt. Jack glanced to the right, his eyes sweeping the crowd. Kelly still hadn't entered the queue.

San placed her shoulder bag in a tray, removing her shoes, and putting them beside the bag. She turned one last time, mouthed
“I love
you,”
and patted her heart.

Jack did the same. And so did Nattie. They watched as San walked through the metal detector, facing the front for a moment before walking out the other side.

Holding Nattie's hand, Jack steered her toward the escalators, worrying all the while whether Nattie might look back and spot Kelly.

They walked to the truck in silence, and on the way home, Nattie stared out the window, her expression glum but thoughtful, too.

“I saw her, you know,” she finally said, her voice matter-of-fact.

Jack sighed, feeling stupid. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“I didn't know what to do,” he offered feebly. “I was afraid you'd be upset.”

“I would have cried.”

Jack swallowed his own remorse.

“She's moving away, isn't she?”

“Yes.”

“I didn't want to say good-bye twice in one day.”

“I understand.”

For the rest of the way home, the miles rushed by, a blur of memories and brown grass. Jack thought of Kelly and how often she'd traveled that exact route down to see them. He'd never once traveled up to see her. He'd offered a couple times, but she'd always found a way to demur.

Nattie remained subdued but not depressed, not by the sound of her tone, and if anyone could decipher Nattie's mood, he could.

When they turned off the highway, Nattie whispered softly, “We're home.”

“We are.”

“It's just you and me now,” she said.

“Is that okay?”

She looked out the window. “I guess some kids just don't have mothers, you know.”

Jack nodded.

“It's okay,” she whispered softly. “Especially when they have cool dads to make up for it.”