Uncharted (Unexpected Book 3) (34 page)

“Honey, we’re home,” Matthew announces. “I swear, if we catch them having sex, I’m going to kill you.”

“Dude, it was one time years ago and you didn’t see a thing.” I continue my way into the house.

“Ring the bell.” Pop fixes his shirt. My stomach churns at the thought that we almost did catch them having sex. “Text before you arrive and maybe send some smoke signals… talk fast. I’m busy.”

“We want to start a band,” Matthew blurts, and I growl. “Don’t get testy with me; they might not give a shit if we stall and go and finish whatever it is they’re doing.”

“Hmm, your two old bandmates have another project,” Pop reminds while studying us. “Is this a duet?”

I shake my head and show him four fingers, and then point at him.

“You’re inviting me to the band?” I nod. He bites a smirk. “Who’s our fourth member?” I give him a grin and signal toward AJ’s house. “Our princess said yes? She’s pregnant, so we can’t do much right now.”

I lift my hands, shaking my head in desperation. “You people are overbearing and annoying. I’m aware she’s carrying a child. We’re just starting and there’s a lot we have to do before we launch. Like finding a name, choosing material, practicing, and recording. The new studio is only a few feet away from her house.”

Pop scratches his chin, studying both of us. “Do you have new music?”

“Plenty.”

“Yours?” He arches a brow looking skeptical. I nod. “Hmm. Interesting. Are we planning on touring?”

“You, no. That’s where the second plan comes in. The third is doing a solo project that you’ll produce. I’ll tour, and invite you if you are nice enough to me.” His smile widens. “Matthew, I think I’m hungry. You?”

“Starving. We can’t continue this discussion until I’m fed.” Matthew pats his stomach a couple of times. “I can use a home-cooked meal.”

“Babe, cook something for our boys. We’re going to be in my office,” Pop hollers at Dad and we follow him toward the studio. “Does any of this good news include Ana taking over the admin side of the recording studio?”

My eyes shot up to the ceiling; why bring her up today, after I saw her leaving town? “Ana is gone, for now.” My family is obsessed with her. “And I hate that fucking name. Call her Pria.”

“Right.” He snaps his fingers. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you manage to lose that girl twice?” I link my fingers on the nape of my neck and look through the window at the cloudy sky. “As a therapist, I’m intrigued. As a father, I want to smack you a couple of times for being an idiot.”

“This is why Gabe’s my favorite,” I groan.

“And yet I know you’re lying, boy.” He opens the door to the studio. We follow him through the narrow hallway, climb the spiral staircase, and step into his office. “Bring me up to speed and tell me what you need from me, besides my talent and good looks.”

“Well, yes, I’m using your name to draw a bigger audience,” I confirm. “Not sure about your looks. I might also require a loan and your connections to open a venue—nightclub meets live music. We’ll have three different themes within the same building.”

“There’s a nightclub down in San Francisco.” I pull out my phone, where I’ve stored all the information. I open the file and show them pictures of Trend, a twenty-thousand-square-foot building in the heart of San Francisco. It features three differently themed clubs. Each designed to cater by musical taste and age range. The largest section has the capability to host live music events. “Seattle needs a similar venue, so I could scout bands during open mic, schedule bands all year long. There’s a guy, Tristan Cooper, who we can partner with, to help me run the place. Bradley is running a thorough background check on him.”

The steps on the staircase interrupt my explanation. I look up and find Dad holding a tray and a goofy smile.

“Here, babe. I brought you guys a snack. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” He places it on top of the desk. Chips, guac, and salsa. “I’m surprised to see the two of you twice in one day. Should I be concerned?”

Matthew and I shake our heads.

“Not concerned, but we might need some money, babe.” Pop stands up and kisses Dad. “I’ll explain later. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Once the sound of the door closing echoes signaling Dad’s departure, I continue explaining my plan. My heart swells as Pop’s face continues to fill with approval and pride at my every word.

Scottsdale’s heat melts my entire body. With each step I take, I hear the sizzling sound of my shoes grilling as they hit the asphalt. Saving money by not renting a car was a bad idea. A sauna is cooler than the dry air of this volcanic city.

Never before had I thought I’d miss the cloudy days of my little corner of heaven—Seattle. Today I miss it more than ever. Cabo San Lucas is my next stop and I’m debating about changing my ticket and flying to Alaska to cool down. A way to chill after this adventure, or misadventure. The description depends on how well everything goes after my visit.

I ring the doorbell of the one-story southwestern townhouse and wait for Laura Gomez to open the door. According to the records I found in my parent’s office, she’s my birth mother. Given name Laura Knapp, married to Pablo Gomez with two children ages seventeen and fourteen. Google, my best friend, gave me the first lead: Molly Knapp, Laura’s mother who gave me Laura’s number and address when I called pretending to be an old friend. After keeping it for so long in the back of my mind, I decided to find out where I came from before I go out and explore the world. So far I’ve discovered that my parent’s names were Laura Knapp and C. Andrade. I don’t know much about either one.

“Yes?” a middle-aged woman answers. Her hair is cut into long layers in the front, short in the back. It looks polished and modern. The diagonal sweep covers part of her attractive face.

“Hi, I’m looking for Laura Gomez, my name is Ana Walker.” I extend my hand as I introduce myself.

“How can I help you?” She watches me as she holds the door half open and looks at me from top to bottom as if trying to figure out what I’m selling. “Did I win something, owe someone money?”

I stare back. From the moment I decided to look for my biological parents, I imagined a scenario where they’d rejoice at the sight of me. They’d know who I was because maybe, just maybe, Mom had sent pictures of me through the years so they’d keep track of me. The reason my parents couldn’t care for me was because they were a couple of kids who couldn’t care for themselves, let alone a baby.

Lord, I’m such a fool. This idea of mine sounded great inside my head. Perfect. An ideal way to start my new life: meet my biological parents, create some kind of relationship between us. Except, I didn’t find anything out about my father, and the woman in front of me is a stranger. Meeting her solidifies the fact that the couple I lived with lied to me and didn’t bring me into this world.

“This really isn’t a good time. My children will arrive soon and I haven’t prepared dinner.” She starts shutting the door in my face.

“I’m Glenda Walker’s daughter—adopted daughter.” She doesn’t finish closing the door, but doesn’t open it wider, either. Laura looks through the gap she left, her eyes moving up and down, then sideways. “Cypriana Walker.”

“You have his eyes, almost pitch black, but they shine.” The door opens a couple of inches. “You shouldn’t be here. They swore you wouldn’t look for me—ever.”

Not what I expected. I toyed with the possibility of a hug, tears—some emotion. This encounter sucks, not the hallmark moment I anticipated.

Nonetheless, it answers one of my questions. Why my parents hid the truth and made me believe that my skin tone was darker because of my ancestors? I never questioned what they told me, but worked hard to always believe what they said.

“My apologies. I didn’t come to disturb or intrude.” For a PR person that is great with image and speaking to others, I’m having a hard time finding the appropriate words. “They died. Mom, a couple of years ago, and Dad, this month. While going through Mom’s documents I found the adoption papers. I wanted to know you and my biological father.”

This encounter should’ve been meaningful. Mae mentioned this Laura person was friends with Mom. From where I’m standing, there’s no friendliness at all.

“Mom.” Two teenage boys about five inches taller than me approach us and hug her. They size me up and pass without greeting me.

“You have to go.”

“Can we talk for a moment?” This can’t be it. I’m about to die from a heatstroke in exchange for nothing. “Maybe give me some info about my father?”

She shakes her head. “He died before you were born. I—let’s do this somewhere else. Can you call me tonight?”

“Thank you for seeing me.” I slide in the booth where Laura Garcia waits while sipping coffee.

“You mentioned your sister. Maeve is alive?” I bob my head once while looking at the menu in front of me. “What happened with Glenda?”

“You mentioned my biological father died.” I don’t answer her question about Glenda. My parents’ deaths aren’t up for discussion. Well, one thing is for sure, she knew Mom. “When was that?”

She rubs her face, her eyes turn slightly red, and after a long pause, she finally speaks. “I was a couple of months pregnant. His wife had died the previous year… the love of his life. He and I had sex, you—”

“So, he died in an accident?” She shakes her head. “How did he die?”

The waiter arrives with another coffee mug, pours some coffee, and leaves the table without asking if I want something to eat.

“He couldn’t handle cheating on his dead wife.” My hollow stomach feels like it’s filling with pieces of metal. “When I received the news about his own…” Her words trail off. A few tears roll down her cheeks and I hand her a napkin. “I tried to get an abortion, but it was too late. The Walkers offered to take you, and the only condition I had was that they’d never talk about it.”

“Where was he from?” I touch my olive skin. I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to. Maybe she was a friend, maybe she was only an acquaintance. It’s not important. This woman and I don’t have anything in common.

“His parents were from Mexico.” She sips from her coffee and I understand why there are no tears between the two of us. My biological mother is treating me like something she never wanted. “I’m married now, happy, and my husband doesn’t know about you or my past.”

Maybe Glenda’s no hugging policy was unorthodox, but
she
loved me. The Walkers opened their home to a baby and did the best they could, the only way they knew how. This woman never wanted me. She would have aborted me.

“Thank you for meeting me.” I pull out my wallet, and place a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

“Those were dark times.” Her speech speeds up. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” I pat her hand. “Thank you for giving me to the Walkers. My parents loved me and I have an amazing sister.”

The hallmark scene where words between she and I would be worth a lifetime of mother-daughter cards didn’t happen. Mae won’t hear of a teary encounter, nor will I give her the fantastic news that we have a place to visit during Easter or any other major holidays. The first stop is now out of the way.

Pree: She didn’t want me.

Mae: I want you. Our parents did too. I love you, little sis. Never forget that they adored you. No matter how crazy those two were, they loved you like their own.

Pree: I love you more. Everything okay?

Mae: Yes, work is good and Ben and I are talking about a future.

Pree: That’s awesome…what kind of future? Marriage is too soon!

Mae: He’s the guy I dated in college. Tomorrow isn’t soon enough.

Pree: Rekindled after so long, so romantic. Why haven’t you told me the entire story?

Mae: One day I will. Where are you heading now?

Pree: The hotel, then the world. I miss you ♥

Mae: Miss you too—Jacob does too ☺

The warm weather never changes in this part of the world; at least it hasn’t while I’ve been here. Lounging on the terrace of my hotel while sipping on another fruity cocktail, and listening to my best friend talking about her peanut is a great way to end the day.

“I received the latest pictures. Put me down for a boy. Five hundred.” She emails pictures of the baby or the bump to her family—and includes Mae and me. Today’s sonogram pics brought a wave of replies, everyone guessing what the gender of the peanut is.

“There’s no bet going on, just guesses. Not that it matters to me. Between us, I think my father in-law and Mase want a boy—Bradley the third. My family wants a girl—baby Ainse. Either way, this baby is going to be loved and spoiled.” The joy I hear in her voice pulls the corners of my lips into a happy smile. “How’s Argentina, Ana?”

“Argentina is so last week.” I look outside my window and take a deep breath. The salty aroma of the beach is becoming my new favorite. “Now I’m in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Once your baby is out, you should escape with me for a weekend of fun.”

“When are you coming back? We all miss you; even my child wants to listen to your voice more often than once a week.”

“Babe, I’ve been gone for a few weeks. Chill.” I suppress the instinctive desire to snort. “For now, I plan to continue flying on this magic carpet. I’m sure you get it.”

AJ had a few dark years and took a break from life before she started fresh. My life wasn’t dark or crappy, but I want to find something I’d like to do. Running the record company did excite me. Christian Decker suggested I take charge of that while Jacob dedicated his time to what he does best—music. However, that boat sank.

“Mae’s doing great, and she’s seriously planning on moving in with Ben.” I derail the conversation. “Maybe I’ll move close to her in San Diego. Though, I promise to be there to meet baby Bradley.”

“My family’s planning a baby shower. It’ll mean a lot if you are here with me.” I stay quiet and the only sound is the waves crashing. I bet Jace could compose a song to preserve the warm feel of this evening. After a long period of silence from both sides, she speaks. “I need my best friend too. Please?”

“You’re only allowed to pull that best friend card twice a year,” I warn. Mae has tried the same; she too wants me to head back to the States. At least to help her move to San Diego with Ben. “When is it?”

“In about six weeks. Grandma called me earlier because she’s organizing it, but doesn’t have an exact date.” There’s a long pause; I pull out my tablet and check the dates. Maybe I can squeeze in the trip, then go to San Diego with Mae, and head back with Ainsley around the time the baby is scheduled to be born. “As soon as Grandma emails or calls back, I’ll give you the dates. Why don’t you try to arrive a few days before so we can have some girl time?” She pauses and then whispers, “I love your sister, but as you must know, she’s leaving us and heading with Ben to San Diego. The wives of Mason’s friends are busy too. Donna is busy with Ranger and Lola; having children only ten months apart is driving her insane. Then there’s Karen surviving Kurtis. He’s not even two, but the little guy is already trying to conquer the world.”

“In just a few more months, you’ll be able to organize mommy-and-me parties and forget that I exist.” Being away is difficult. Everyone seems to be moving on—their lives changing significantly—and me, I’m in limbo. “Send me the dates and I’ll plan something. How does that sound?”

“I’m not going to forget you, Ana. You’re my best friend.” She can’t grasp the concept that things switched between the two of us the moment I left Seattle. Even before, when her brother and I ended our ridiculous hookup arrangement. “This is temporary, while you find yourself. I’m giving you space, but I’m not letting you go. No one is letting you drift away.”

“Well, I’m glad all is well.” I drink some water to refresh my throat, because
that
no one comment sounds like Jacob is included, and, well, I can’t let my mind go there. “Same time next week?”

“You’re a tough cookie.” She releases a loud breath. “Call if you need us. Love you.”

“I will. Love you too, babe.”

AJ: I forgot to thank you for the assistant.

Ana: I’m glad you liked her.

AJ: You’re the best ☺