Chapter Twelve
Lindsey spent the afternoon sorting the letters from Damien’s father’s house. The dog snored softly beside her and Maris batted at a stuffed whale on her activity mat. Lindsey glanced up at the clock. Damien would be home from work in a few hours, and she’d be able to tell him she was finished. They’d fallen into an easy rhythm that made every day shimmer with possibility.
Lindsey woke with Damien and saw him off to work. Then, she captured the early morning light sparkling over the water with her brushes and paints. When Maris began to stir, she put the project aside and took the baby and Daisy for a long walk on the beach, after they had breakfast. Damien returned home around five, and she made up dinner while he played with the baby. The simplicity of their routine was comforting. Would it always be this way? When she’d started seeing Matthew, everything had been new and fresh, and then things started to change. Small things at first, and before she could blink her eyes, Lindsey was married to a man she didn’t know at all. She had to stop comparing her experiences, but Matthew and Damien were the only real relationships she’d ever had.
She picked up the next envelope, and something about the handwriting scratched over the front prickled the hair on her arms. Lindsey tore it open carefully. Her stomach clenched when she scanned the text. She set the letter down, looked out the window for a few moments, and picked it up to reread the note. The note that changed everything for Damien.
Clyde,
I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. You had to know how bad things had gotten between us. I was suffocating. I wanted out and you never listened to a word I said—or maybe you just didn’t care. I knew you’d chase after me if I had Damien, but it still stings that you didn’t even try to fight for me. I wouldn’t be writing you now if I weren’t in dire straits. The baby’s due in a month. Your baby. I got fired from the diner, the rent needs to be paid, and medical bills are piling up. You owe me for all the grief you’ve given me, and you owe it to your daughter for being a lousy father before she’s even been born. Send cash to the address below.
-Vicky
An address was scribbled below the text. Had Damien’s father known his wife was expecting their second child, or had he died thinking he had only a son? Ice coiled in Lindsey’s stomach. What kind of mother left her son, and didn’t even ask about his well-being? Her heart ached for Damien—the boy and the man. How would he feel when he read his mother’s words? When his mother left him, Damien had sealed his heart off. He’d been so deeply hurt that he still felt unworthy of love. He didn’t have any other close family members to share the pain with, or to lean against—until now. Somewhere out there Damien had a sister.
When Lindsey heard tires crunching over the driveway through an open window, she glanced back at the clock. How much time had she spent reading the letter over and over again? She nibbled at her lower lip. How would he react when he read the letter? Perhaps she could save him from reading those painful words, while still finding out who his sister was and where she lived. She forced her shoulders to relax. He deserved to know the truth, even if it hurt.
Damien walked through the front door, greeted them, and went to put down his things.
“Is something wrong?” A crease formed between his brows the moment he rounded the corner.
“Damien, come sit down.” She patted the couch cushion next to her. If only she could shield him from this.
He arched his eyebrow. “Nothing good has ever come after those words.” Damien sat.
“There’s something you need to read.” She handed him the letter, then tasted blood—she’d chewed her lip raw.
There was a tremor in his hands when he unfolded the sheet of paper. His brows snapped together as he scanned the text. It seemed like an eternity for him to put down the letter and speak.
“She was pregnant when she left. How could she leave us like that?” Damien’s body was stiff as a board.
Lindsey squeezed his knee gently trying to comfort. “I didn’t want to show you, but that wouldn’t have been right. It’s from a Boston address. It might be a long shot that your sister still lives there, but I have a friend from college who started her own Boston-based private investigating firm. She’s very good from what I’ve heard. Let me call her, Damien, and we can start searching for her right away. If your mother left when you were about six, your sister would be in her very early twenties—maybe a college student, or just getting out into the workforce.”
Damien raised one slash of brow. “Searching for her? I don’t want to meet the person my mother chose to love over me. Even if I did, she could be just like my mother—selfish and cold.”
“Damien, this is your sister. Your blood relative. How could you move forward with your life, knowing you had a sibling out there?” Lindsey tried to level out her tone. This was his sister. How could he turn his back to her?
“And run the risk of coming face-to-face with my mother again? No thanks.” He handed the letter back to her. “You can put it through the shredder, with the other junk.”
“Damien, I know this is your choice, but think it through. What if your mother left your sister, just like she did to you, and she’s all alone without any family? You didn’t have a mother growing up, but she didn’t have a father. You each got half. Maybe she’d be able to offer you some closure.”
Damien swiped his hands over his face. His jaw was set in a hard line. “I’ve thought it through, Lindsey, and the answer is no. I don’t want to find her. I don’t want to know who she is. Just leave it alone.” Damien was standing now. The grief and angst rolled off him like a tidal wave. She couldn’t leave it alone. How could she make him understand that his sister might be the missing puzzle piece to help him click his past into place?
“What if she’s sweet and kind? Someone you’d grow to love? Damien, you could have a wonderful family member out there, and you’re brushing her aside. What if she needs you, too?” Lindsey stood up and faced him head-on.
“Your outlook is much different than mine, Lindsey, because you had a perfect childhood with parents who loved you unconditionally. It was all sunshine and rainbows for you. Not me. I know what she could be like. I can’t handle the disappointment.”
His words stung—that had been his intent.
Maris started to cry and Lindsey quickly picked her up off the floor.
“I need to get some air.” Damien angled his body toward the front door and looked back at her. “Don’t wait up.” He grabbed his wallet off the table and walked out of the house.
For the second time in their relationship, she was completely unsure of their future. Lindsey cuddled Maris closer. Her family meant so much to her. She wanted Damien to experience that, too, but he’d made it perfectly clear that he was vehemently against it. A light bulb went off. Perhaps she could find his sister, determine where she was, and what she was like. If she seemed like a good person, she could admit what she’d done and introduce them, and if not, Damien would never know the difference.
She thought back to the painting he’d sold behind her back. At the time, she’d been crushed that he didn’t consider her feelings, but now she understood he was just trying to give her something she so desperately wanted but was afraid to grasp for herself. If she did this, wouldn’t it be exactly like how he’d molded a bit of her future without her consent? Of course, there were multiple people involved in Damien’s situation whose lives might be impacted if she took action.
Damien had such an awful childhood, one that had scarred his soul. If only he could develop a relationship with his little sister, maybe it could heal some of the hurt his parents had inflicted on him. Maybe, he wouldn’t feel so alone anymore. Her conscience played a game of tug-of-war. The last thing she wanted to do was betray his trust. It was really a decision he needed to make on his own, but she wanted to help him heal, to be whole. Sometimes, the best families were the ones you made on your own, but somewhere, Damien had a sister, too. One phone call could change everything, but what if it wasn’t for the best?
As the baby napped, Lindsey walked through the cottage picking up toys, and rearranging this and that. The only sound in the house was the faint creak of floorboards under her feet and the whirl of the overhead kitchen fan. Why did she have to read that letter? It nagged at her. Did his sister have a terrible upbringing, too? Was she struggling? Lindsey had a gut feeling, one that was telling her to pick up the phone.
*
Once Maris woke up, Lindsey wrapped her in a light blanket, took her phone off the kitchen table, and stepped out onto the deck. She scrolled through her contacts and picked out Alexandra Macintyre’s number.
She drew in the salty air when she heard the ring tone. If only she knew what was the right thing to do for Damien.
The other line clicked, and a familiar voice sounded.
“Macintyre Investigating.” Her friend’s tone was brisk and to the point.
“Alex, it’s Lindsey.” Alex had been a law student and Lindsey’s roommate during senior year of college. They’d lost touch after Lindsey had married Matthew and Alex had started her own firm.
“What a nice voice to hear on a crappy day. How the hell are you?”
“Divorced, with a new baby, and a boyfriend you’d definitely approve of.” Lindsey smiled into the phone. “And you?”
“Perpetually single, working sixteen-hour days, couldn’t be happier. Glad you left that scumbag. He had a look about him. And a new baby? Congratulations!”
“He was sleeping with his secretary.” Lindsey could look at it objectively now, without the sting of rejection.
“His loss,” Alex said simply. Lindsey could imagine her shrugging her shoulders, with her feet propped up on her desk. Lindsey heard a bark on the other line.
“You got a dog!” Her friend had always wanted one.
“That’s Hank, my partner in crime, and the only guy in my life. Wait till you meet him. Daisy will look like a little mushroom next to him.”
Lindsey laughed.
“So, this friend of mine, his name is Damien, found out he might have a long-lost sister. The problem is, he doesn’t want to find her.”
“And you do, because you’re always trying to make things better for people, even if they don’t want the help. That’s like swimming in shark-infested waters, Lindsey.”
“I know it.” She sighed.
“Okay, as long as you do. Email me what you have. I’ll let you know what I dig up,” Alex said.
“I will and charge me for your time.”
“That’s insulting, Lindsey. Just send the email.”
She hung up the phone, and looked out at the sea. Her friend always found what she was looking for. Alex had an uncanny knack for solving riddles and finding what was lost. When Damien found out, would he forgive her instead of walking away? She was taking a big risk doing this, but she had to try for Damien.
Maris squirmed in her arms and she bounced the baby gently on her knee. Lindsey chuckled when Maris’s eyes crossed, as she tried to look down at a bubble of drool. She wanted Damien to experience the love of family so desperately, to have a special bond with the sibling he’d never known. The wind had picked up, and dark clouds started rolling over the horizon. When the first bolt of lightning zigzagged over the ocean, she took Maris inside. She tried to call Damien to make sure he was okay, but the call went right to voicemail. Her heart weighed heavily in her chest and her throat was so tight, it hurt to swallow. Would Damien, who’d been wonderful for so long, end up like his mother and walk out on them, too? Was she an idiot to put faith in him? Maybe her own wishful thinking was making him out to be something he wasn’t.
She had to brace herself for the realization that things wouldn’t always be easy with Damien. Self-preservation had her tucking away her phone, a physical action to help her disconnect from him. Maris was her life now. She wouldn’t count on another to make her life and her baby’s a happy one. That was up to her. Lindsey locked the sliding glass door and took some colorful picture books from the coffee table. Even before Maris was born, she loved reading her the short tales. Her daughter’s gaze traveled over the bright images as she read Eric Carle’s tale about The Very Hungry Caterpillar. It didn’t matter how much she hurt, so long as Maris never experienced the pain of an adult she loved closing the door on their relationship—something Matthew had already done. Damien would have to decide what type of role he wanted in their lives, and she’d have to determine if trying was worth the potential heartache.
Lindsey’s skin tingled when her phone vibrated inside her jean’s pocket. Her shoulders loosened. It had to be Damien letting her know where he was and that he was safe. She glanced down and didn’t recognize the number. More likely Alex, calling from another office line or a new cell phone.
With a quick swipe of her thumb, she picked up the call.
“Hello?” Lindsey opened Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? to keep Maris occupied.
“Lindsey, we need to talk.” She shut her eyes. Damn. Her ex-husband’s voice was like razor wire.
“Matthew, I’ve signed the papers, you’ve started fresh, what’s left to discuss?” She hated the breathless notes that peppered her speech. How could the sound of his voice, thousands of miles away, make ice snake down her back?
“I’ve been thinking about the baby.”
Everything froze inside her. Lindsey didn’t want Matthew involved. A selfish piece of her didn’t want to share Maris. She was the one who woke every two hours in the night, who went through the extraordinary pain of labor, who poured every piece of herself into loving Maris. The son of a bitch on the other end of the call had to use the word “baby,” because he had no clue if Maris was a boy or a girl. He didn’t even know her name. Her words were locked in her throat.
“Lindsey, I want to see my kid. Do I need to call my lawyer?” Of course, he would threaten, before she even had a chance to speak. His lawyer had played dirty, used every loophole, and rendered Lindsey with nothing.
“Matthew, you haven’t supported this baby in any way. Not one. Why do you want to see her now?”
“A girl, then. I would have preferred a son. Regardless, it’s my right to see her.” Arrogance flowed through his tone. “I’ll be visiting next week. Give me the address, so I can put it in my GPS.”
Lindsey gritted her teeth. “Will Florence be coming?” Matthew was silent for a moment, giving her great satisfaction.
“Florence discovered she can’t have children. I couldn’t be with someone so…flawed.”
She could hear the disgust in his voice, and would have felt sorry for the pretty assistant, if she hadn’t knowingly slept with a married man—her husband. So, there was her answer. Matthew needed to see for himself the baby he’d produced, to eliminate any insecurities about his ability to father a child. He didn’t care about Maris. The tips of her ears burned. If she looked in a mirror, they’d be bright red, and her face flushed with anger.
“I’m sure she didn’t want to be with someone so perfect anyways.” Lindsey couldn’t control her sarcasm or her temper for another minute. Why bother trying to be cordial?
“I see you’ve developed an attitude. Check it when I visit.”
“Get off your high horse, Matthew. Things have changed. I’m not the same meek woman you left.”
She heard him sneer, then snicker. “Maybe I should bring along the lawyer, to remind you how powerful I am. I could take that baby, have full parental rights, before you could wipe that blank stare off your face.”
Her breath caught in her throat and blood roared in her ears. “Why would you do that? You know nothing about raising a child. Not one single thing! You’ve never even seen her before!”
“To prove I could. And I said nothing of raising her. That’s an au pair’s job. My work is too important to putt around with a baby all day.”
He couldn’t legally take the baby unless he could prove her to be a negligent parent—which she wasn’t. Still, her thready pulse and the ice that spread in a wave from her face all the way down to the tips of her toes, told her she’d have a panic attack if she didn’t end this call now. She rattled off the address, and hung up. Lindsey hunched over and hugged Maris close. He couldn’t take her, could he? Lindsey’s heart fluttered quickly in her chest. No, he couldn’t, but all the logical thinking in the world wasn’t going to calm her racing pulse. He had strong and corrupt lawyers that could make things very difficult for her if that’s what Matthew wanted.
What right did he have to threaten her like that? Their whole marriage had been about leveraging control. She should have left him sooner, but he wore her down until she doubted everything she did or said. Lindsey was just regaining her confidence, only to be slapped down again. Maris was her entire world and he wouldn’t use her love for their child against her. Lindsey had to grow a set, and stand firm.
The truth was, his words had left her shaken. More so than she’d like to admit. She’d always wanted to be a mother, to have a happy, normal family. She was so close to that now with Maris. She couldn’t lose her baby. Why did he have to pop up, today of all days, when she was already mentally exhausted from her showdown with Damien? She hated to think the words, because nothing was ever guaranteed, but it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that her ex could pop out of nowhere and threaten to exercise his parental rights. It wasn’t fair that she scraped by while he didn’t contribute an ounce to raising their child, and it wasn’t fair that Damien, the man who she should be able to lean on when she needed it, had flown the coop because it was easier to run from his problems than to face them. When she was done with her personal pity powwow, Lindsey took a deep breath. In through her nose, out through her mouth, just like the therapist she’d visited after the divorce had taught her.
No one was going to take Maris from her. That was the way Matthew worked. Threaten, gain control of the situation, and get what he wanted. Lindsey needed to man up. She wasn’t just acting for herself now, she was fighting for her baby’s rights, too. Maris couldn’t talk yet, or tell her lousy father how she felt or what she wanted, so Lindsey would be her voice and when the time came, she’d make sure it was strong, clear, and unafraid.