Over the Fence (44 page)

I gripped Kourtney’s hand hard, and blew out a deep breath, after Sophie told me my mother had passed away. “When?”

“About five years ago,” Sophie murmured. “She had cancer, which she was diagnosed with a couple years after you went to prison. She fought it long and hard, but it finally beat her. I’m sorry, Nathan.”

“And Ryan?”

She glanced at Ian, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement.

“I don’t know where Ryan is—no idea. I wasn’t very close to them after I turned eighteen—especially Ryan. Once Mom passed, I had no reason to stay in contact with him. The last I heard he was still in Florida.”

I was shocked to hear that piece of news. All this time I had assumed she was still close with them. “Why, Sophie? What happened?”

She sighed, threading her fingers through mine. When she spoke her voice was quiet and resigned. “After you went to prison, Ryan told Mom and me that you didn’t want us to see you there. You wanted no contact with us. I was forbidden to write you or attempt to find out which prison you went to—he wouldn’t tell me.”

“I never said that—I thought you wanted no contact with me.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t until well after I turned eighteen I found out you were out of jail, Nathan. By that time, I was fed up with Ryan and his rules. We’d moved three times and my life was in constant flux. His rules were strict—even stricter than when you were with us. Mom and I fought all the time it seemed.”

“About him?”

She shrugged. “Him. You. The restrictions I lived under.” She lifted her gaze to mine. “She told me once she’d already lost too much: Dad, Trevor, you—she couldn’t lose another person. They kept me under such close scrutiny, it drove me crazy. They pushed me away instead of keeping me closer. When she got sick, things got better, but it was never the same.”

I clutched her hand. “I tried to reach out—I wrote you both. All the letters were returned. When I got out of jail, Ryan was there. He told me none of you wanted anything to do with me.” My voice shook with the emotions I was fighting. “He gave me back all the letters I had sent at first—before you moved. Then he told me to leave you alone. He reiterated you still wanted nothing to do with me and that you hadn’t forgiven me for hurting you or killing Trevor. I was so alone, Sophie.”

“We never got your letters. Everywhere we lived we had a postal box and Ryan picked up the mail. Anything you sent, he kept hidden. I never knew until after Mom died.”

“How did you find out?”

“He got drunk one night after the funeral, and without meaning to, he said a few things—enough for me to realize he’d been lying the whole time. The next day we had a blow up and I walked out. By then, we were living in the States and I hated it. I came back to Canada and moved to B.C.” She smiled at her husband. “I went to University and made a life for myself. It’s where I met Ian. He had a job offer in Toronto last year, and we moved here, to Mississauga.”

She turned to me, frowning. “I looked for you, Nathan. I tried on Facebook, I checked records, I even contacted the prison, but they wouldn’t give me any information. Short of hiring a private investigator—which I didn’t have the money for—I didn’t know how to find you. I thought you really didn’t want to see me, so I left it. Did you . . . did you look for us?”

“At first, a little. But when I got out and Ryan told me to stay away, I was in such a free fall, I shut down, Sophie. Grant and Claire took me in and helped me get on my feet.” I paused, shutting my eyes with the pain building in my chest, reaching blindly for Kourtney’s hand. “I pretty much kept myself closed off until I met Kourtney. I was too afraid to care that much again; too afraid to lose someone else. I thought . . . I thought you hated me for what happened to you and Trevor.”

“It was an accident, Nathan. I knew that. I was there, remember? My body healed, but my heart . . . it never did. I missed Trevor, I missed you. I didn’t understand why you cut us off.” She swallowed and wiped a few tears that had fallen. “I lost you both that day.”

“I was ashamed, but I wanted to see you.”

“Ryan kept us apart.”

“I guess he was the one who hated me.” I was silent for a moment. “Did Mom . . . did she . . . ?” I couldn’t even bring myself to say the words.

“Mom regretted not pushing more,” Sophie confessed. “She wished she had been able to tell you she was sorry.”

A tear leaked from my eye, running down the edge of my cheek. “Why was she sorry? I’m the one who killed Trevor and ripped our family apart.”

“Once Mom got over the shock and the grief, she knew it was an accident, and she regretted her actions. She never hated you the way Ryan led you to believe. But it was too late—thanks to him, she thought you were lost to her. She was sick and weak for a long time—she never had the strength to fight it. But she did love you.” Her voice broke on her next words. “I never hated you at all. I missed my big brother so much. I thought you were lost to me as well.”

I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’m right here, Gypsy-girl. We can start again—get to know each other, if you want?”

She smiled through the tears rolling down her face. “Try and get rid of me now, big brother. I’m sticking like glue!”

Kourtney spoke up. “We’d love to have you come for dinner. You can spend some more time together.”

“We’d love to!”

I beamed at the two women I was sitting between. Despite the sadness I felt about hearing of my mother’s passing, I also felt a weight lifted from my shoulders. She hadn’t hated me. Ryan and his anger had infected every part of our lives—taking away the years we could have spent together—as a family. But I had Sophie back, and now we could rebuild our relationship and move forward. We had many years to catch up on, so much to learn about each other.

Thanks to Kourtney and her love, to her ability of allowing my heart to reopen, I had a chance to know my sister again—to hear about my mother and her memories, to learn about Sophie’s life—the good and the bad.

The warm water around me felt good. Kourtney’s arms holding me close felt even better. She knew exactly what I needed after Sophie left. She let me hold her until the first wave of emotion passed. When we got home, she poured us a bath and slipped in behind me, surrounding me with her presence. She stayed quiet, allowing me time to process what Sophie had told me.

“I wish I’d looked harder. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye.”

“I know, my love.”

“Ryan really hated me.”

“I think his grief twisted his judgment.”

“She wasn’t a bad mother. Did I make you think she was?”

“No, Nathan. I know what a bad parent is. Your mom wasn’t one, she was . . . human. She made mistakes, but it sounds as if she wanted a chance to fix them.” Her arms tightened. “I’m sorry she never got the chance—that you never got the chance to reconnect. But you know now she forgave you, and she loved you.”

Twisting my head, I looked up at her. “Because of you, I got a chance to get to have my sister back. I get to reconnect with her—to have her in my life.”

“You did the hard part. You took the chance.”

I ran my fingers down her cheek, smiling at the trail of bubbles I left behind. “I was able to because of you. All the good things in my life have happened since I met you, Chefgirl.”

“The same goes for you.”

“Then I guess we’re perfect for each other.”

Her smile could have lit the whole room.

“Yes, we are.”

“Is this the last of it?” Kourtney smiled, as I lifted a small box over the fence and handed it to her.

“Almost.”

“Have you enjoyed your little trip down memory lane, Nat? Using the fence?” she asked as she placed the box on the table before coming back to her ladder and climbing up a couple of rungs.

I chuckled. “It felt right.”

“Just think, you’ll have to retire the ladder now, unless of course, you want to leave it for the new people moving in. Maybe I’ll have to feed them as well?”

I shook my head. “They are a nice, retired couple, Chefgirl. I’m sure they can fend fine for themselves. I might let you bake them some cookies to say welcome, but the rest of what you cook? It’s mine.”

“Always so protective of your food.”

I stood on the top of the ladder, looking over the fence at Kourtney, who gazed back at me, amused. “I am. Not as protective though, as I am of the person who makes it. She’s my reason for everything.”

Kourtney blushed as she reached up, and I wrapped my hand around hers. “This is where it all started.”

She grinned and shrugged. “Who knew when I heard a voice groaning how fucking awesome my dinner smelled that this is where we would end up.”

I laughed thinking about that first dinner. “You literally had me that night, Kourtney. I was already a goner.”

“Well, it actually took us a while.”

“I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.” I rapped the top of the fence. “As much as this was a barrier between us, it gave us the time to really get to know each other. Time we both needed, I think. I loved our conversations and hearing your laughter when I said something inane.” I paused. “I remember how right it felt to hold your hand the first time. How much I came to rely on hearing your voice. How fast I started needing you.”

“Me, too.”

“This fence kind of symbolizes a lot of us, Kourtney. It’s a part of our history. Do you realize we haven’t been apart one night since the first time I came over the fence?”

Her hand clutched mine. “I know. I can’t imagine being without you anymore.”

I felt my nerves take over and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t ever want to be without you. Ever.”

She beamed up at me, her eyes dancing. “Then come over the fence one last time and stay.”

“I have one more box, Kourtney.”

“Okay, give it to me and I’ll go open the garage and you can put the ladder in it, then we’re finished.”

I held her hand tighter. “Kourtney?”

She looked at me, confused, and gingerly climbed another rung of the ladder, so she could grip my hand better. “Nat? What’s the matter?”

“I’m not quite done.” I placed our entwined hands on top of the fence. “This was the beginning of our story. Me climbing over it was the next chapter. Falling in love with you and having you love me back was the heart of the whole tale.”

Her voice was filled with warmth. “You moving in is the next one, right?”

“It is.” I paused, and cleared my throat. “But I want to expand on that chapter.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you.”

I swallowed nervously and placed one final box on the top of the fence. A small leather box.

Kourtney’s eyes widened as she stared at the small item.

“That’s your last box?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

I nodded, clearing my throat. “This one is special.”

“Nathan?” Her uncertainty was evident in that one quiet word.

“We started right here. I want to close this part of our life right here, right now. I don’t want to come over this fence to live with you. I want to marry you.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“It’s someday, Kourtney. Be mine. Please. Tell me I can keep you forever. Marry me?”

She stared at me, her lips trembling. I took her left hand and grinned down at her. “It’s sunny, Chefgirl. I made sure you had a glass of wine with lunch, I’ve made you laugh, and your glasses are nowhere to be found. I think I got it all right. So all that has to happen now, is for you to say yes.” I drew in a deep breath. “Please, say yes.”

Her smile was brilliant. “Yes.”

Grinning, I picked up the box and pressed it into her hand. I swung myself over the fence one final time, landing in front of her, helping her down off the ladder. I grabbed her tight in my arms, rejoicing when I realized how she allowed me to do so with no reticence; thrilled at how far we had come since the first time I held her.

I gazed down into her breathtaking, beautiful eyes that gazed back at me filled with more love than I had ever seen. Love that was for me and only me. The promise of the future beckoned in her intense stare.

A future I had given up thinking ever existed, until I heard her voice, over the fence.

My mouth founds hers; emotion driving me as I swept her tongue with mine, tasting her sweetness. I held her close, loving the feeling of her in my arms. How right it was. How right we were.