Not Playing Fair (The NOT Series Book 2) Page 15
Chapter Seventeen
By the time I walked into my apartment, I’d made another important decision. I couldn’t possibly talk to Cassie without talking to Dad first. I’d been an idiot for not telling him right away. We’d always been a team. The two of us against the world. How could I have possibly even considered doing this without him?
I’d had lots of bad ideas lately. Telling lies. Keeping secrets. Running down three flights of stairs in brand-new shoes.
Stretched out on my couch with a bag of frozen peas on my shin, I’d called Dad in the hopes he could meet me before my dinner with Cassie. He said he’d be home by five thirty. That didn’t leave me a lot of time, but thankfully, his place was only minutes from Café Du Jour.
“Dad?” I called as I walked through the door of his house at exactly five thirty. To my surprise, a black cat met me at the edge of the living room. “Who are you?” The feline meowed a response, but there was a clear language barrier. “Are you supposed to be here?”
“He is,” Dad said, coming down the stairs. “This is Boris. He’s Nessa’s grandcat. I’m watching him for the next few days while her daughter and her family are out of town.”
That begged the obvious question. “Why isn’t Nessa watching him?”
“Her apartment building has strict rules against pet visitors.” Tapping Boris on the head, Dad added, “He’s a friendly guy. Doesn’t move much, but he’s a solid eater.”
I could tell that from the size of him. He made Becca’s full-grown cat look like a week-old kitten.
“He’s very pretty.” I’d have visited with the newcomer, but I didn’t have time today. “Dad, I have something I need to show you.”
“I have water on to boil so come into the kitchen. We can talk in there.”
I followed him into the next room and as he went to the stove, I took a seat at the small mobile island and pulled the letter from my purse. “I got this a couple of weeks ago.”
“What is it, honey?”
“You should just read it first.”
Concern creased his brow as he unfolded the letter and read silently. I watched his face shift from curiosity to shock to anger.
“She had other children.”
We’d obviously made the same assumption, that Geraldine never would have had more kids.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring this to you the minute I got it. I was going to tell you that day at Eat’n Park, but I didn’t want to bring Geraldine up when you were finally moving on with Nessa.”
“Megan, you don’t have to protect me.” His voice was more stern than usual. “Have you sent her a response?”
“No, I haven’t done anything. Yet.”
He crossed to the stove and turned off the burner. “I’d hoped that someday she might reach out to you, but not like this. I see she hasn’t changed one bit.”
“Have you been in touch with her at all over the years?”
“She sent me her address about fifteen years ago. I think she expected that if anything happened to me, you’d go live with her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
Dad tossed the letter onto the island. “If you’d have asked to find her, I’d have let you know where she was. I guess maybe I was selfish, but I didn’t trust her not to hurt you all over again.”
This recent letter showed he’d been right. The one time, after all these years, that she’d reached out hadn’t been to apologize or reconnect. Just a request to help keep me a secret. Dad wasn’t the selfish one. Geraldine was.
“The girl she’s talking about has been coming into the library,” I said. “I’m meeting her in less than thirty minutes.”
“What are you going to tell her?”
The only thing I could tell her. “The truth. That we have the same mother. That Geraldine left when I was seven and never came back.”
Leaning his elbows on the stainless-steel countertop, he said, “How do you think she’s going to take it?”
That was the million-dollar question. “I have no idea.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I’d considered that. “I think I need to go alone, but am I doing the right thing? She’s told me she’s determined to find out about her mother’s past and her family, but I doubt this is what she expected to dig up. Letting her know we’re sisters—which I’m still processing and I’ve had two weeks to think about it—is one thing. But I’m going to tell her that her mother walked away from another child. That’s a heavy thing to learn.”
Quiet for several seconds, Dad finally said, “It’s heavy, but as you said, it’s the truth. If that’s what she’s here for, then I’m not sure you have any other choice. With that kind of determination, she’s bound to find out eventually, and she’d likely be more upset to know you didn’t tell her when you had the chance.”
I agreed. “That’s my thinking. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” He checked the clock above the back door. “Where are you meeting her?”
“She’s staying here on the South Side so I told her to meet me at Café Du Jour. And I do think I should go alone, but thank you for offering.” Sliding off the bar stool, I shoved the letter back into my purse. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Please, do.” Walking me to the door, he threw his arm across my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “I’m sorry you have to do this at all.”
I knew he carried guilt about how things had gone with Geraldine. As if he’d picked the wrong person to have kids with, and I’d been the one to pay the price. He couldn’t have known what she would do, and if he hadn’t fallen for the beautiful girl in his history class, I wouldn’t even be here.
“You know you’re a great dad, right? I wouldn’t trade my childhood with you for anything.” I didn’t tell him this often enough.
Dad pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And you’re the best daughter a man could ever hope to have. One call and I’m there, okay?”
“Thank you.”
Boris offered his own goodbye, or at least I assumed that’s what he was saying. “Wish me luck, Boris. If only my life was as simple as yours.” He offered the same meow in the same tone, yet I felt as if we’d made a connection.
After sending Dad a wave before reaching my car, I checked the time on my phone. I had just under ten minutes to travel the nearly twenty blocks down to the restaurant. My stomach was in knots, but talking with Dad had helped. One less secret weighing on my shoulders. Now to bring the biggest one into the light.
I arrived a few minutes before six and took a seat away from the other diners, but not so far that Cassie couldn’t see me from the entrance. Café Du Jour was a small, European-inspired restaurant that drew a smaller crowd, which felt like the right setting for the conversation to come. No loud music to talk over. No large groups disrupting the quiet ambiance. Not that there was a perfect setting to receive the news I had to deliver, but this particular eatery provided a calm vibe I hoped would help.
Cassie breezed in at exactly six, and without waiting for the hostess, rushed to my table and sat down. “Why did you rush off earlier? I’m dying to know what you’ve found out.”
Fighting the butterflies in my stomach, I followed the plan I’d come up with in the last ten minutes. “First, let’s make sure I have the right person. What is your mother’s name?”
“Geri Pendleton. Well, Geraldine is her full name.”
A part of me had wanted her to say a different name.
“Right. That’s the name I have.” I needed to take this slow. “The reason you haven’t been able to find a record of her here is because she wasn’t born in Pittsburgh.”
Sitting up straighter, she shook her head. “But she’s from Pittsburgh. That’s the one thing I know for sure.”
“Her hometown is close to here. About an hour southeast, actually. It’s called Uniontown.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
Cassie leaned forward. “Did you know her?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Oh my gosh. This is crazy.” She scooted to the edge of her seat. “How? I mean, you would have been a kid. Was she your babysitter or something?”
Jaw tight, I took a steadying breath. “She wasn’t my babysitter, Cassie. She was my mother.”
The waitress picked that exact moment to step up to the table. “Good evening, ladies. What can I get you to drink tonight?”
Cassie stared at me, stunned into silence, while I smiled at the waitress. “Could we have two glasses of water?”
“Sure thing. Do you need more time to look at the menu?”
“We’re going to need several minutes, thanks.”
The young brunette cast a glance from me to Cassie. “Got it. Take all the time you need.”
As she walked away, I stayed quiet, giving Cassie the time she needed to absorb the shock. When she finally broke her silence, the words came out on a whisper.
“How?”
“Geraldine and my dad, James, went to school together. She got pregnant with me at the start of her senior year of high school, and they got married a week after graduation. I arrived a few days later.”
Gripping the table, she stared at the tiny vase centerpiece. “I don’t understand. You have to be talking about a different person.”
“I’m not. Look, I know this is hard to hear.”
She shook her head quickly from side to side. “If she’s your mother, then why have I never heard of you? Did your dad take you away from her? Is that what happened? Does she even know where you are?”
This sucked as much as I’d feared. “When I was seven, she left. I never saw her again after that. I just knew she was in California, but I didn’t know where exactly.”
“What do you mean she left? She wouldn’t just leave a child like that. My mother is a lot of things, but she isn’t a monster.”
“She was young,” I said in her defense. Not that twenty-five was that young, or that her age justified her actions. “She said she didn’t want that life. Being a mom and a wife in a small town just wasn’t for her.”
Pushing back, Cassie said, “No. No way. You were just a kid, right? That may be the story they told you, but that’s all it is. A story. Mom would never have done something like that.”
“I’m afraid she did. I was seven, Cassie. I remember the day she left like it happened yesterday. Dad tried to get her to stay, but she had her mind made up.”
She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and defiant. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of this. If you think she has money and you’ll get some, you’re wasting your time. If you just get off on tricking people, then I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m not falling for it.”
“Cassie, I have nothing to gain by telling you this. Other than us getting to know each other, but that’s up to you. You said you wanted to know about your mother’s past no matter what you found. Well, this is her past. It’s difficult to process. I only learned about you last weekend, and I’m still not sure how I feel. I mean, she left me but she raised you. Knowing that doesn’t make me feel good.”
“There’s no way it went down like that,” she said. “I’m sorry you were fed a bunch of lies, but I won’t sit here and listen to them.”
As she jumped to her feet, I pulled out the one piece of evidence she couldn’t refute. “Just read this letter and you’ll see.”
“I’m not reading anything.” She jerked her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m out of here.”
“But, Cassie—”
Before I could finish, she stormed out of the restaurant. Clenching the letter, I ran after her. “Wait, if you’ll just…” The words trailed off as she melted into the shadows from the street lights and disappeared from view. “…read this,” I muttered. With a deep sigh, I went back inside to get my things. After catching the waitress’ eye and letting her know I was leaving, I stepped out into the cool night air, heart-heavy and bone-tired. I’d been prepared for shock and questions and maybe even tears. Not outright rejection.
Since I had no way to reach her and highly doubted Cassie would ever return to the library, this was it. My one brief encounter with the sister I never knew I had. Deep down, I’d wanted the same things she’d talked about. The reunion. The family gatherings. Getting to know her and this brother I also knew nothing about. None of that would happen now.
Fighting back tears, I headed for my car and remembered that Donna lived less than a block away. I could have gone back to Dad’s place, but he’d want to fix things and right now I just needed a shoulder to cry on. Making the short walk up Carson, I turned left on South 12th Street and could see her building straight ahead.
Minutes later, Donna answered my knock and the moment I saw her, I fell apart.
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me inside.
“And then she stormed out,” I said, finishing the story with a lap full of tissues. “I never should have told her.”
Donna carried the garbage can over and set it at the end of the couch. “You had to tell her, Meg. Your mother has kept her secrets long enough. You don’t owe her anything.”
“But what was the point? Cassie doesn’t believe me, and I’m sure she’s going to tell Geraldine all about this crazy girl who thinks she’s her daughter. I can only imagine the letter I’ll get then.”
“Screw her.” Plopping down beside me, she rubbed my back. “If another letter shows up, then you ignore it. Like I said, you don’t owe her anything. If she doesn’t have the nerve to come over here and talk to you, then anything she has to say on paper can go in the trash.”
Blowing out a deep breath, I tossed the pile of tissues into the can. “I wish I’d thrown the first one away. Then none of this would be happening.”
“True, but as messed up as this is, you never know. Cassie could come around and contact you someday.” Pointing out the obvious, she added, “This is what happens when secrets stay buried. They fester and people get hurt. You’re both better off this way.”
I didn’t feel better off, but she was right. Though I held little hope of ever hearing from Cassie again. Donna’s phone dinged for the third time, and she ignored it as she had the other two.
“You can answer that,” I said. “I didn’t think to ask if you were busy before barging in here.”
“Don’t be crazy. I always have time for you,” she said, checking her phone. “This is Becca. My exhibition venue fell through, and she’s sending me links to other options.”
Donna had been working on her collection of photographs documenting racial justice activism and diversity in the city for the last five years. She finally felt confident enough to launch the show in the spring, but she needed a venue to do that.
“Oh, no. What happened?”
She shrugged. “Someone else wanted that date, and they had more money than I do. It happens, unfortunately. So I’m starting over.”
“I’m sorry, but if anyone can find you a new location, it’s Becca.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” She slid her phone onto the trunk that doubled as a coffee table. “Back to you. Are you going to be okay?”
I didn’t really have a choice. “I will. Eventually.” Leaning back, I hugged an olive-green pillow to my chest. “This day has just really sucked.”
“I know, sweetie. But as the saying goes, tomorrow is another day.”
Bolting upright, I buried my face in the pillow. “And my first game,” I mumbled into the material.
“What now?” Donna said.
“It’s the first game,” I repeated, lifting my head. “Which means I have to see Ryan.”
Donna leaned her elbows on her knees. “The guy you went out with?”
Now I had to explain this again. “Yes, the guy I went out with. The one I lied to and
now he’s mad at me.”
“Hold on. You lied?”
This was so embarrassing. “When we first met, he asked me what I do. I panicked and said I work in a bookstore.”
Lips pursed, she said, “Hon, why would you do that?”
Each time I repeated this idiocy it sounded more ridiculous than the last time. “I didn’t want him to assume that I was boring because I’m a librarian.”
“And working in a bookstore sounds better somehow?”
“It did in the moment.”
Rolling with my answer, she said, “So now you have to tell him the truth.”
“Oh, he knows. He found out this morning when we were introduced at the main branch. I was there to sit in on some interviews, while he was there as the consultant who gets to decide if my programs get cut.” Still a tad bitter, I added, “He never told me he’s a consultant. His sister said he’s had some bad experiences when people find out so he doesn’t say so up front.”
“Then how can he be mad? He did the same thing you did.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way. His sister said once he calms down he’ll probably give me a chance to explain, but I’m not counting on it.”
“You know his sister?”
“She was one of the interviewees. She was going to help me talk to him, but then I saw Cassie and I couldn’t let her get away again. By the time I raced downstairs, they were gone.”
Donna rose off the couch. “Woman, you’ve earned some empty calories today.” Crossing the short distance to the kitchen, she pulled two spoons out of a drawer before opening the freezer drawer on her fridge. When she returned, she shoved a cold pint of double chocolate fudge ice cream into my hand. “Dig in.”
Not the healthiest dinner, but she was right. I’d earned this treat. Tossing the lid onto the trunk, I leaned back and loaded a spoonful of chocolate goodness into my mouth.
“Remember when my life really was boring?” I said as the first bite went down.
“Your life was never boring, Megan. That’s just some bullshit idea you got from your idiot ex.”