Somewhere Out There(61)
“Like I said, it’s complicated.” It was quiet a moment until Natalie went on to explain how her parents had finally turned over her adoption file, and how she had gone to see Gina Ortiz.
“You saw Gina?”
“Yes,” Natalie said. “She said she always wished she could have found you a family.” She paused. “I also went back to Hillcrest and met Miss Dottie. She told me about a girl you were roommates with after the two of you aged out of the system. Zora Herzog. I went to see her, too.”
“Oh,” Brooke said, a little unsettled that this woman who could or could not be her sister had been digging around in her past. It made her feel exposed, a position she most decidedly did not enjoy.
“Did you live with her?”
“For a little while. Not long. Why?”
“Do you still see her?”
“No,” Brooke said, feeling a bit like she was being accused of something. “Did she say that I do?”
It took Natalie a few seconds to respond, and when she did, it was in a quiet, measured voice. “She said that you were a hooker.”
“What?” Brooke exclaimed. Her cheeks flushed hot and red. “That’s a lie. She’s out of her mind.”
“Okay,” Natalie said, but she didn’t sound totally convinced.
“Look,” Brooke began, “I did live with Zora for a couple of months after we left Hillcrest. We were both working at the same restaurant as hostesses and we knew we’d need to pool our money to find a decent place to live. But then she started dating this horrible guy who turned her on to drinking all the time and taking whatever pills they could get their hands on, so I moved out as soon as I could. I haven’t seen her in twenty years. Okay?” She realized she was ranting, but she couldn’t help it. She was furious that Zora had uttered such a nasty, blatant untruth.
“Okay,” Natalie said again, and this time, it sounded as though she believed Brooke. “I’m sorry for asking, but I just . . . I needed to know before . . .” She trailed off, and Brooke filled in the rest of the sentence.
“Before you decided if you wanted to meet me?” She felt a pinch inside her chest, like she’d been found guilty of something she had never done, but she also understood why Natalie would ask the question. If Brooke had been in her shoes, she supposed she would have done the same thing.
“Yes,” Natalie said. “I have kids, you know? I just needed—”
“It’s okay,” Brooke said, interrupting her. “I understand.”
“Thanks.”
An awkward silence fell between them, and Brooke flashed back to what it had felt like to hold her baby sister in her arms. She heard their mother’s voice, telling her to be a good, brave big sister. “I’d like to see you,” she said, and when Natalie didn’t respond, Brooke continued. “Do you want to see me?” Her voice was small, a fragile thing.
“Yes,” Natalie said. “I do. When do you want to meet?”
? ? ?
It was Natalie who suggested the Westside café as a good place for breakfast the next morning. Brooke had never been to the restaurant, so she left her apartment an hour early to make sure she wouldn’t be late. She’d struggled over what to wear, wanting to make a good impression the first time Natalie saw her, and finally landed on a simple black skirt with an elastic waist—maybe she was imagining things, but at twelve weeks, her clothes were already starting to feel tight around her stomach—black tights and knee-high boots, and a purple sweater Ryan had bought her because he said it brought out the color of her eyes. She let her curls dry naturally to reduce their normal frizz, then swiped on a little mascara and lipstick before she walked out the door.
Twenty minutes later, Brooke was searching for a parking spot on the very narrow, heavily populated residential side streets that T-boned the main stretch of Alki Beach. She had already driven past the restaurant, so she knew where it was, but it took her another fifteen minutes to find a place to park. It was a cold but clear morning, and the sidewalk lining the beach was littered with people jogging, walking, or pushing strollers in their Columbia fleece outerwear. The blue water of the Puget Sound shimmered as though diamonds had been scattered across it, and after Brooke walked the four blocks back to the restaurant, she stood for a moment, looking out to the green islands across the way. One of them was likely Bainbridge, but Brooke couldn’t have picked it out—local geography had never been her strong suit. Though the sun was shining, the breeze was icy coming off the water, so she tucked her hands into her coat pockets and pushed the restaurant door open with one of her shoulders.
“Good morning,” the hostess said over the clang of pots and pans from the exposed kitchen and the noisy chatter of already-seated patrons. “Are you meeting someone?”
Brooke nodded. “A woman named Natalie.” Her heart pounded an errant rhythm inside her chest, so she took a deep breath in an attempt to settle it. She looked over the small dining area, unsure if she’d recognize her sister after all these years.
The hostess smiled. “Right this way, please.”
Apparently, Natalie had come early, too. With her hands still shoved in her pockets, Brooke followed the hostess through an archway and to the very back of the seating area, to the last table, where a woman with long, straight blond hair sat alone. When she saw the hostess bringing Brooke her way, the blond woman stood up, one hand gripping the edge of the table and the other splayed across her chest.