Somewhere Out There(105)

Brooke frowned at her. “How are you being so rational right now? I feel like shit.”

Natalie thought a moment before answering, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of them. “Probably because I don’t remember her the way you do. It’s easier for me to stay objective.”

“I don’t really remember much about her,” Brooke said, softly. “Not specifically.” She shrugged. “What I remember is the feeling of her. Of having her with me. And then . . . not.”

Natalie reached over and squeezed Brooke’s hand, knowing that no words could ever fully heal the loss her sister had suffered the day their mother decided to let them go. She took the Stewart Street exit off I-5 in order to drop Brooke at her apartment on Capitol Hill.

“You all right?” Natalie asked as she pulled up in front of Brooke’s building. “Want me to come in?” It was almost eight thirty, and Kyle had likely already put the kids to bed, so Natalie didn’t need to hurry home.

Brooke shook her head. “I’m okay.” She paused, as though she were reconsidering her statement. “Sad, but okay.”

“I’m sad, too. I wish things had turned out differently. For all of us.”

“I’m glad we went together, though.” Brooke gave Natalie a grim smile. “I might have really gone off on her if you hadn’t dragged me out of there.”

“You’re welcome,” Natalie said.

Brooke laughed and put her hand on the door handle. “Talk with you tomorrow?”

“You bet,” Natalie said, watching to make sure her sister was safely inside the building before she drove around the block and headed back toward the freeway. She wondered if it was too late for her to stop by and see her parents. She’d called her mother earlier in the day to let her know that she and Brooke planned to drive up to Mt. Vernon.

“We just want to talk with her,” Natalie had said. “To understand why she gave us up.”

“Okay,” her mother replied, quietly. “Will you at least let me know when you get home? And if you’re okay?”

“Of course,” Natalie promised, so now, using the voice commands on her cell phone’s headset, Natalie called the landline at her parents’ house. Her father picked up after only two rings. “Hey, Dad,” she said. “Is it okay if I come by? Or are you guys about to turn in?”

“I haven’t gone to bed before eleven in forty years,” her dad said with an awkward laugh, and Natalie knew that her mother had told him who Natalie had gone to see. “Of course you can come.”

Ten minutes later, Natalie parked in their driveway, where she texted Kyle and told him where she was, and that she’d fill him in on everything that had happened as soon as she got home. He quickly texted back, “Are you all right?” and Natalie answered, “Yes,” even though she wasn’t sure this was the truth. She’d remained oddly calm as the situation with Jennifer unfolded, but now, there was a buzzing ache inside her chest, and the tips of her nerves felt raw and exposed.

Natalie tried to ignore her discomfort as she tucked her phone back inside her purse and made her way to the front door. Her mother opened it before Natalie had a chance to knock. “Hi, honey,” her mom said. Her face was pale and her expression pinched, and Natalie knew her mother wouldn’t have slept tonight if Natalie didn’t tell her how things had gone with Jennifer.

“Hey, Mom,” Natalie said as she entered the house. She hugged her mother and held on a moment longer than she usually would. When she pulled back, she took off her coat, set her purse on the entryway table, and looked around. “Where’s Dad?”

“In his study,” her mother said. But as she spoke, Natalie’s father appeared in the long hallway and walked toward them.

“Hello, Nat,” he said in his usual low, resonant tone. Natalie greeted him with a hug, too.

“Let’s go sit in the living room,” her mom suggested. “Can I get you anything?”

“A shot of vodka?” Natalie said as they all made their way to the other room. She was only half-joking. The soothing balm of alcohol might be just what she needed.

“Oh,” her mom said. “Okay . . .”

Natalie put her hand on her mother’s arm. “I was kidding, Mom. I’m fine.”

“I just finished a glass of wine,” her mother said. “Would you like one?”

“No, thanks,” Natalie said, deciding that a drink wasn’t what she needed after all. “I can’t stay too long.”

The three of them sat down on the large sectional, and her parents stared at her, waiting for Natalie to begin. “So,” she said. “Brooke and I went to Jennifer’s house tonight, but she wasn’t home from work when we got there. Her husband, Evan, invited us in to wait.”

“Is he . . . was he your biological father?” Natalie’s father asked.

“No,” Natalie said. “He’s someone she met later.” She paused. “He seems to really love her.”

“That’s good,” her mother said as she drew a large pillow into her lap. Her fingers worked at straightening its messy blue fringe. “How was your . . .” She stopped and then started again. “How was Jennifer?”

Natalie wondered how best to explain the way her birth mother had reacted to seeing her daughters, then decided that a succinct description of the afternoon’s events was the best route to take. “She was shocked, of course, and more than a little upset. Part of me wishes we hadn’t sprung ourselves on her like that.” Her parents were silent, their eyes glued to Natalie, waiting for her to go on. “Her husband helped calm her down, though, and we were able to ask her some questions.”