Somewhere Out There(60)

“No,” Brooke said, looking around her tiny studio, wondering what her sister would think of how she lived. And of the fact that, in seven months, she would be an aunt. Brooke swallowed back an itch in her throat. “It’s okay. She can call me.”

“I can give you her number, too,” Sarah said, “if you’d like to call her, instead. She indicated she’s fine with whatever you want to do.”

“Have you already spoken with her?” Brooke asked.

“No, but we’ve emailed. She seems like a lovely person. At least, her emails were lovely.”

The muscles in Brooke’s belly relaxed. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sarah said. “Let me give you her number and I’ll pass yours along to her. Do you want me to set up a time for the call, so you’ll know when it’s coming?”

“I don’t think so,” Brooke said. “I’ll probably just call her right now.”

Sarah laughed. “I said the same thing about calling my son. I couldn’t dial fast enough.” She gave Brooke Natalie’s number, and wished her luck. “Call us if you need anything,” she said. “We’re here to help.”

After they hung up, Brooke stared at the number she’d written down for a good, long time. It was local, with a 206 area code, which likely meant that her sister still lived in Seattle proper. That she, like Brooke, had grown up here. Close, but not together. Brooke wondered what Natalie’s life had been like, if she had other siblings that had taken Brooke’s place and made her presence in Natalie’s life unnecessary. How would she feel, meeting them? Or meeting the couple that had wanted to adopt Natalie but not Brooke? And what if this woman wasn’t her sister? What if the registry had gotten it wrong? If Brooke did decide to meet her, she could be setting herself up for disappointment, like she had with Claire. Brooke was certain she couldn’t go through something like that again.

But what if it was Natalie who’d found her? What if she didn’t have to be alone anymore? This thought made tears spring to Brooke’s eyes, and she wished she had someone to talk with, but the person she’d been closest to was Ryan, and for all intents and purposes, their relationship was over. And it wasn’t like he knew anything about her past.

Her phone beeped, indicating she had a text, and she quickly checked it, thinking perhaps Natalie had decided that text messaging would be an easier way to connect than having an actual conversation. Her pulse sped up as she read another note from Ryan. “Please call me,” it said. “We have to figure this out.”

Brooke tapped on the reply box and typed in a short reply: “There’s nothing to figure out. I’m having the baby. You don’t want to be involved. The end.” She pressed send, and then decided to say one more thing. “Stop calling me. Stop texting. It’s over. I don’t want to see you again.” She sent that message, too, and when the phone rang in her hands only seconds later, she jerked and accidentally dropped it. It skittered across the hardwood floor.

“Shit,” she mumbled as she crouched and fished it out from beneath the night table next to her bed. “I told you not to call,” she said, assuming it was Ryan when she answered, not bothering to look at the screen.

“Oh,” a woman’s voice said. “I’m sorry . . . I thought . . .” Her voice caught on the words, and Brooke realized her mistake.

“Oh my god,” she said, breathless. “Natalie?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, god,” Brooke said again. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. I mean, I know you’re you—the lady from the registry told me you’re you—but I thought you were my boyfriend. Well, my ex-boyfriend. We just broke up.” She paused. “Sorry, I’m babbling.” Brooke gave a nervous laugh. “Can we start again?”

“Sure,” Natalie said, sounding just as tense and edgy as Brooke felt, which oddly made Brooke feel better. It dawned on her that Natalie didn’t know for sure that Brooke was actually her sister, either, and was likely struggling with all the same what-if scenarios that were spinning through Brooke’s head.

Brooke sat back down on her bed, stretched her legs out on the mattress, and leaned against her many pillows, deciding that for the time being, she would go with the assumption that this woman was, in fact, her sister. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me, either,” Natalie said. “You have no idea.”

Brooke picked up one of her fuzzy throw pillows and squeezed it to her chest with one arm. “Is this the first time you’ve looked for me?” she asked. “I mean, it’s been a long time. I’m sure you don’t even remember me.”

“That’s actually sort of complicated,” Natalie said.

“How so?”

“I didn’t know about you. Not until last month.”

A shiver spider-crawled up Brooke’s spine. “I don’t understand.”

“My mom . . . well, that is, my parents . . . my adoptive parents, didn’t tell me that I had a sister. I always thought it was just me.”

Tears welled up in Brooke’s eyes. “How could they not tell you?” she asked, again wondering if this was actually her sister on the phone. Maybe this whole thing was a giant mistake.