Child of Mine (36 page)

They were at the pool. Despite the cloudy day, the temperatures hovered in the eighties. This morning, Nattie had announced a change in her list of favorite summertime things. She was now too old for the park. The pool was where it was at.

Jack lay on his back, wearing sunglasses, catching his breath following a spirited underwater contest, which Nattie had easily won. Jack looked out toward the pool. Catching his eye, Nattie was about to leap into the water, frowning at his distraction.

What now?
she mouthed.

I'm watching,
he mouthed back.

Nattie leaped into the pool, then surfaced, climbing halfway out of the water, holding herself up on trembling arms, half in, half out of the pool, a water-drenched little girl. “Aren't you coming in?”

“I just got out.”

Nattie gave him the face, a powerful mixture of pity and love that could nearly always get her what she wanted.

Jack nodded wearily, and Nattie squealed with delight, checking behind her and then flailing backward, splashing into the water.

Jack picked up his phone and, without thinking, ran through Kelly's old texts.
It doesn't feel right . . . I miss you . . .
can I call you?

“Da-ad!”

He got to a sitting position. He could feel Nattie's eyes on him. He could hear the frantic splashing of water, the squealing of a dozen kids.

He pulled up his email. Something in the report didn't make sense, and something about the Huber website was bothering him, as well. And yet there was no mistaking the picture of Jonathan and his wife, Becca Lynn Glick. Laura had pined for her first love for nearly a decade, but apparently no grass had grown under Jonathan's feet. He'd wasted little time finding another love.

He thought about Laura last June, sitting on the bench, reviewing their day, enjoying their mutual love for Nattie.

Jack thought back to that first date with Kelly. At the coffee shop, and then at the fancy steak restaurant. And their first kiss.

“Da-ad!”

Their hours of conversation, the feeling that his heart had found its home. And wasn't that why he'd been so angry? She'd led him to hope and to believe. Only to jerk the rug out from beneath him.

It
doesn't matte
r
,
he told himself again. Laura was Nattie's
mother, and that changed everything. It changed the past, the present, and the future.

Ernie had already purchased the plane ticket for Kelly, a one-way ticket to Chicago, scheduled for departure on Friday morning.

Kelly's Emily was now Megan, and she lived with her family in an upscale suburb of Chicago. She'd been adopted at the ripe old age of four months by parents who were fully capable of paying the exorbitant prices demanded by a no-strings adoption agency, the kind of agency that provided results in days rather than years.

Ernie had submitted Kelly's DNA, already on file, and Megan's family had submitted hers. The test came back positive, and indisputable: Megan was Kelly's child.

According to Ernie, Megan's parents were sickened by the news of their unintentional involvement, and they wanted to make things right, but with their daughter's best interests at heart. Although they'd raised Megan with full knowledge of her adoption, they were worried about Megan's capacity to emotionally deal with the truth at such a young age.

A slow transition, ultimately leading to shared custody, would be worked out by lawyers, Megan's parents, and Kelly. All she had to do was move to Chicago, preferably within a few miles of her daughter, and begin the process.

I found her,
Kelly thought, her body shivering with the realization that her search was over.

Despite her own mixture of feelings, she would agree to their requests, saddened to lose her new job, but excited by her future.

It's worth it!
she told herself.

In the meantime, she had to find a new job and a place to live.

“Done,” Ernie said. “And forget giving notice. I talked to your friend Melody, and she talked to her dad. They've already arranged a leave of absence for you. And Chet's got a buddy in Chicago who needs some office temp work. Start with that until we know
what we're dealing with. You can always make a quick trip back to pack up your things.”

“But I still need a place—”

“That too. Done.”

Determined to remember this moment forever, Kelly cued up a favorite song and stared at the storefronts nearby until she couldn't see for the tears.

Happy tears.

Emily had been safe all along.

I knew
that, didn't I?
But no, she hadn't known that, not for sure. But she'd believed it. She'd
believed
.

J
ack pulled up to Laura's country home at three o'clock that afternoon, as they'd agreed. Rolling down the truck window, he sat for a moment, taking in the farm air, steeling himself for what would come next and praying for the right words.

Along her cousin's porch, a mixture of flowers displayed Laura's handiwork—only sparser. He felt a twinge of guilt. She'd worked so hard at his home, bringing color into their lives, only to leave little time to enrich her own.

In the distance he saw a mangy cat scramble for the barn, tracking its prey. The trill of a hummingbird came from the honeysuckle bushes, and Jack smiled, reliving those early weeks of summer, the three of them sitting on the back porch, watching their own hummers, learning their species because Nattie had been so determined to categorize her favorites.

How I miss those days!
Jack remembered Laura's strange behavior the day he'd driven her home and sprung his dating plans on her, and then their awkward conversation that day in the laundry room. It all made sense now. She must have been dying to tell him the truth.

Jack took a breath and let it out slowly. They had a lot to talk about, and a lot to decide. Yet even now, sitting there, waiting for Laura, he couldn't help remembering Kelly, haunted by the pain in her eyes when she'd been confronted with her lies.

Her lies—
how ironic! After all, Kelly wasn't the only one who had lied to him. Laura would have kept her own deceit for these many years.

He sighed. His head was spinning.
Forget how you feel
, he thought.
Do the right thing
.
The future was clear. Jack whispered it out loud, “Do the right thing. For Nattie. For Laura.”

Crunching across the gravel and crossing the creaky porch, badly in need of fresh paint, he knocked on Laura's door, feeling like a suitor, wishing he'd brought flowers. Suddenly the door burst open, and there she stood, her expression bright but apologetic. Her face seemed rosy, as if she'd just washed up, and her hair shone in the sunlight, her
Kapp
neatly pinned on top. “Jack! I didn't hear ya pull up.”

He felt out of breath, as well, but for a different reason—nerves. She wiped her hands on her apron and stood there, primly, now looking as anxious as he felt. “Are we goin' somewhere?”

“A short drive, maybe? We won't be long. I promise.”

She studied him for a moment.

“I want to discuss the test results,” he said, noting her reluctance.

Without saying anything further, she removed her apron, tossed it just inside the door, and followed him out.

It was like old times, the way she climbed into his pickup and settled in, smoothing her dress with suntanned hands. Clicking the seat belt, she took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling quickly, as if to say,
“Okay, here we go!”

She regarded him with bemusement as he got himself situated, that charming way she had of watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Jack put the truck into gear and turned around, kicking up dust, heading back the way he'd come. He paused at the blacktop,
noting the scent of new asphalt, and once he'd pulled out, Laura asked about Nattie.

He told her the latest, and Laura grinned at the details. They were never more comfortable with each other than when talking about Nattie, discussing her issues, her moods, and her recent shenanigans.

Eight miles back to Wooster, he finally said, “We miss you, Laura.”

“Well, I miss you, too,” she said politely, before pointing to the right. “There's a park just down the street.”

“Got it,” Jack said, turning.

It was an older neighborhood dominated by dogwoods, maples, and ashes. He rolled the truck to a stop.

Getting out into the breezy sun-dappled side street, they walked along a pathway leading to a secluded and shaded park bench. He could smell fall in the air, sunshine flickering through the branches, the topmost leaves just beginning to show their rich colors.

Laura sat down, demurely placing her hands in her lap. Jack plopped down on the bench beside her, feeling the wood planks give under their weight. They sat for a moment, taking in the sounds of a riding mower, driven by a young long-haired landscaper in jeans, and the energetic squeals of elementary school girls jumping along the sidewalk across the street.

Earlier, he'd been nervous, but now her openness, her cheerfulness, gave him courage.

“I'm not here to harass you into coming back,” he said kindly, although that wasn't exactly true.

Her smile turned into a grin. When he couldn't avoid it any longer, he said, “Kelly's not Nattie's mother.”

Laura nodded, adding a soft
hmm
as if to say,
“I told you that.”

And instead of scaring her with what might seem like an ambush, he began to relay his DNA testing process, finding the strands of hair and submitting them against Nattie's DNA, all the while gently backing her into a corner, where she
had
to admit to the truth.

She listened intently, keeping up with his explanation, her expression receptive, but there was a glint of confusion, as well, as if wondering if he'd taken her all this way just to tell her what she already knew.

He plunged ahead. “My test was different from Kelly's.”

He studied her response but saw nothing—no glint of surprise, not even a whisper of guilt.

“
My
test was positive,” he added for clarity.

Her eyes narrowed. “I still don't understand.”

He tried again. “One of the hair samples I submitted matched Nattie's DNA.”

Now Laura leaned back, as if considering this. And then he saw what seemed to be a tiny chink in the armor: a look of acceptance. She wasn't puzzled anymore. In fact, she wasn't surprised at all.

“Jack—”

“Laura, don't say anything yet.” He didn't want her to begin denying it before he had a chance to make his little speech.

He put his hand on the back of the bench, his arm practically around her shoulders. “Do you remember earlier this summer, sitting on the swing, talking about anything that came to mind, sipping iced tea at the end of the day and laughing at Nattie's latest antics?”

She smiled but seemed to steel herself.

“And you gave me that gift I will treasure forever, not just because of what it is, but because it came from you.”

Her gaze was steady, unyielding.

“We were growing closer, Laura.”

She nodded, sniffing softly.

“But something happened,” he said. “After my birthday.”

Her expression dimmed suddenly, but he continued. “We were on the brink of something, Laura.”

“
Jah
, we
were
growing closer,” she said. “But after your birthday, I had to make a decision.”

She reached over and patted his arm, as if to ease the blow
of what she was about to say. “You'd never really seen me before that day, Jack. I mean truly
seen
me. And it was nice, you know, to have you look at me that way, but the truth is, I'm not fancy, Jack, and I never will be.” She looked away for a moment before continuing quietly, “And I don't think you've ever accepted that.”

“Give me another chance,” he protested.

“
Ach
, Jack—”

“For Nattie's sake, if not for mine.”

She shook her head slightly, but her eyes softened at the mention of Nattie.

“You took care of us for years, Laura. I want to take care of you now.” His voice cracked with emotion, and he had to look away for a moment before whispering, “Come back to us.”

Her eyes grew misty, and for the first time, she seemed receptive to him. He swallowed and edged closer, leaning in, not sure if she'd let him kiss her, wondering if he was about to break a profound taboo, an Englisher kissing an Amishwoman. But then he was struck, suddenly, by the realization that never once, in all of their years together, had he ever imagined kissing her.

And why was that?
He was inches from her face—she had already closed her eyes—when he stopped, as if frozen in his tracks.

Laura opened her eyes, and a look of bemusement fell over her. She leaned back, and her words came out playfully. “You couldn't do it, could ya, Jack?”

He stared at her, trying to make sense of his conflicted emotions. “I'm sorry . . . I mean . . . I thought . . .”

Laura's eyes danced with humor, and she laughed, shaking her head. “Do ya understand now?”

“It doesn't change anything,” he replied, feeling defensive and sheepish all at once.

She laughed again. “Oh, Jack! It changes
everything.
”

“Laura—” He stopped, tempted to simply blurt out what he knew, that
she
was Nattie's mother, but sighed with frustration.

“We were good friends, partners even,” she continued. “And I will always miss that.”

“Then let's make this work,” Jack said, still trying to fix the mess he'd made.

Laura's eyes twinkled again, but she shook her head. “Jack, you are handsome and kind, a
gut
man, and you've always looked out for me. But I want something more. I want a love like I had with Jonathan. And you should seek that, too.”

She looked down for a moment, and when she met his gaze again, a flicker of recognition crossed her features. Her eyes widened in surprise. “You think I'm Nattie's mother, don't you? Isn't that what this is all about?”

He nodded. “You can tell me, Laura.”

She pursed her lips, and her words came out with strong determination. “Jack, as much as I love Nattie, she is not my child. Jonathan and I . . .” Her voice trailed off, and a rosy blush crept across her face. “There was
no
baby, Jack. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

Laura looked away, leaving Jack dumbstruck by her fervent denial. He took another breath and let it out slowly, nodding slightly before staring straight ahead. He considered the test again. Hadn't he read that sometimes these DNA tests were simply wrong? Contaminated? Maybe he'd made a mistake. Either way, it didn't matter anymore.

A breeze brushed against them. The sun had disappeared behind a cloud, lowering the temperature suddenly. She seemed out of breath again. He sighed and slumped in the bench, staring straight ahead, toward the street.
“If
you believe nothing else, believe that.”

He did believe her. He wished he didn't. Truth was, he'd wanted Laura to be Nattie's mother.

“I'm sorry,” she said, seeing his obvious dejection.

“No,” he whispered. “I'm sorry for dragging you out here.”

“It's okay, Jack.” She touched his arm. “Are
you
okay?”

He nodded, too embarrassed to speak, and really, there was
nothing more to say. He got up, and she followed suit. Silently, they walked across the park, Laura hugging herself tightly, stepping carefully through the freshly mown grass, her tennis shoes padding as she navigated around the small clumps.

They got in the truck and he drove down the street. On the way to the farm, Laura said nothing, enduring the silence. He was back to square one. Worse than square one. What began as a foolish attempt to bring someone into Nattie's life had only made matters worse. Laura was gone, and she wasn't coming back.

He turned into her cousin's driveway again and traveled the gravel road to her house. Coming to a stop, he shifted into Park, and they sat there as the truck idled for a moment.

Laura put her hand on the latch. “Well . . .”

“I'm sorry I didn't kiss you.”

She smiled. “Did you want to try again?”

Her reply broke through the gloominess, and Jack couldn't help but laugh. Laura joined in, the earlier tension slipping away.

Another wave of silence engulfed them, but Laura didn't get out. She bit her lip and finally spoke. “There's something else,” she said. “This isn't my place, but I think ya have a right to know, Jack.”

He nodded, if only to encourage her to continue. He had no idea where she was going with this.

“The lab results,” she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, as if telling a grave secret. “Ya didn't make a mistake, okay? I suspected it for years, but I never lied to you, Jack. It just wasn't my truth to tell.”

He frowned. “Laura, I don't under—”

“Be gentle, okay? Sometimes we keep secrets for a reason.”

Before he could ask her to explain, she grabbed the handle, pulled it down, and stepped out of his truck.

Jack sat there, bewildered, as Laura climbed the porch steps, opened the screen door, and disappeared inside.

What on earth does she
mean?

He shook his head. The sun was setting, and Nattie would be
anxious. He needed to get back, to try to salvage what remained of their lives.