Christina (Daughters #1) (28 page)

She nods. “Right. I’m twenty-six years old. Was your mom young when she had the daughter she gave away?”

I nod.

Natalie nods. “She was young and didn’t want the baby. It’s okay. Happens all the time. You should let her decision stand. You should go now, Christina.”

My mouth opens. There is so much more I want to say and ask. There are so many questions I
need
to ask. So much I want to confirm my suspicions. But Natalie’s eyes have gone blank. She wants nothing more to do with me, or what I might know. She’s convinced Mom was just an average teenage pregnancy. Typical story; too young, or single, or not ready, or accidentally pregnant so the baby goes up for adoption. I could probably blurt out some version of the truth to at least get Natalie to listen some more to me. But with one sentence, she dismisses me. Now, I still don’t really know, or maybe, I do. I feel deep in my gut that I’m staring at my half-sister.

Max stands up and gently leans down to take my hand and pull me up. I feel kind of numb. I am so disappointed, tears fill my eyes. After coming all this way, and enduring all this angst, and this is it? All that comes from my efforts? Nothing. Absolutely nothing is resolved and nothing is learned or changed. Mom’s daughter seems fine, but I know nothing of how she got here. And worse for me, apparently she wants nothing to do with me.

Max is silent as he squeezes my hand in support. I cling to it, marveling I can even hold it while the rest of me loses all sensation. We all shuffle to the door. Sam stands up, but hangs back. I catch his expression of sad regret. I’m not sure if it is directed towards me, or Natalie.

Natalie remains a few paces behind us. Max opens the door. That’s it. This is the end of it. The only chance to know my oldest sister. I turn suddenly, “There’s two more of us, you know. You have two more sisters. We all live in Ellensburg, Washington. We’ve lived there for twenty-plus years, and I’m sure we’ll be there for twenty more. If you ever want to know more about… us, or visit us, just come or call. You can be sure we’re there. Our last name is Hendricks. Everyone knows us.”

Natalie freezes, but kind of nods. “I—I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll need that information. But thank you for caring. Take care of yourself.”

“Right,” I nod, blushing again. “Um, it was nice to meet you.”

Natalie doesn’t reciprocate. She just gives me a tight smile and watches me as I quickly turn to Max and nearly run out the front door. Sorry I ever came. I’m embarrassed, actually for coming. I’m horrified and hurt.

And yet, I’m now one hundred percent sure I’ve just met my oldest sister.

I remain quiet as Max and I get into the car. He’s staring at me. “That was brutal. I’m sorry, Tina. She could have been a lot nicer. You were just trying to know her.”

“Well, I came at her from out of nowhere. Looking back, what did I expect?”

“Maybe she’ll call you some day after she’s had more time to process it.” I lift my gaze. Is Max being fake-optimistic? For my sake? It might be the only thing that makes me smile.

I catch the look in his eye, and say, “Thank you for coming to me here in San Francisco. For coming with me today. That would have been unbearable without you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. She thinks your mom did. You aren’t her problem. It is her own anger. I recognize anger. She’s got it in spades. Probably over whatever she thinks the reason was for being given away.”

“I wonder sometimes… how could Mom do it? How could she give her up for adoption and never want to find out what happened to her?”

“I think her circumstances were unique to her. It was something that no one could imagine; nor should anyone, you included, judge her.”

I close my eyes. No more tears. I blink. “That… is really profound advice. When did you get so sensitive?”

He smiles. “After years of listening to you.” I notice him glancing towards me, then facing forward, then glancing at me again.

“Max?” I say.

“Do you, I mean, if—if you need a hug, or my arm, or something, I could…” he replies.

His shoulders tense up. The zen thing with Max showing affection still has a ways to go. But the offer is tantamount to another guy telling me he’s in love with me, or wants to slay dragons in my honor. Max is willing to touch me. “It’s enough that you offered.”

He slumps in relief as he turns and starts the car. We drive in silence for a while. I lean my head against the passenger window. “Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you take me home?” There are a million reasons why he can’t. For one, his car is in the motel parking lot.

But Max just smiles at me and says, “Yes, I will. I’ll take you home.” His answer is so simple and easy that I know it means yes to everything.

“You know what I’m really asking?” I finally whisper. My eyes are closed. My head is leaning on the window and I can’t take another bout of rejection, or disappointment.

“I know what you’re asking, and my answer is yes,” he says, his tone soft and sure.

Chills break out over my skin. “But there are all kinds of details that make it stupid for you to do that.”

“Details, Christina? You want me to abandon you over a few unimportant details? My brother and Olivia will make a night of it and pick up my car. We’ll arrange a trip soon to meet up. We agreed to try to see each other more often anyway. The rest? I was just trying to get back to you. So yes, Christina Hendricks, I will take you—us, home. For good.”

“I’m already late for college. We won’t have even a day together.”

“It’s not that far away. We’ll figure it out.”

I blink. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, I love you. I want to be with you, however that looks. Isn’t that all you were ever offering me? To love me however it works out?”

My heart kind of just expands and contracts. “Yes. However it works out. I love you. I always have. When you look at me, I feel it deeper in my heart and soul than I do any other guys’ caress. I just need you, however you can give yourself to me.”

“I think I can give you more than I did. I will keep learning to be better. But I may never be completely normal.”

“Together. Remember? It’s a we thing.”

“Starting now?”

“Starting now, and lasting forever.”

I smile and so does Max. Most couples would be hugging and kissing all over each other about now. Instead, his smile zings inside me like he just reached over and held me. When he looks at me, I know I’m the only woman in the world he sees and loves. I feel him and don’t need any touch to reaffirm his intentions. He looks back at the road. It goes by in a blur of colors and gray. I lean my head back. My gut insisted that I take this trip. I
had
to find my sister. Turns out, that wasn’t the point of this trip, however. I had to find Max. I knew myself already. I’ve always known. I just had to wait for him to find himself, and be ready to believe that I can accept him for exactly who he is.

It’s not the ending I pictured. But then, what in this life ever is? Maybe that’s what I had to learn. Maybe it’s what Max had to figure out also.

It is, however, not the ending. It’s the beginning. No one knows what their journey will look like. They just have to trust whom they’re taking it with.

Max reaches out and sets his hand on my knee. He squeezes it as he flashes me a reassuring smile, and I know I’ve found the only person I care to take that journey with.

~Christina~

HOME IS LESS THAN fifteen hours away. I took my time getting to San Francisco because I was so apprehensive of what awaited me on the other end. I was trying to drag it on. Now? Now, all we want to do is get home. My classes start tomorrow at Eastern. There’s no way I can be there the first day. Really, this is not how I intended to start my college career. I planned to be moved in several days before. I wanted to be all set up and meet my roommate; but, like all of my life, plans are easier to make than keep.

We talk a lot. For all of our hours together, Max and I ride in my car and talk.

“I still want to go to Eastern.”

“I never considered you wouldn’t,” Max says quietly. We are now in a motel room, taking a break for the evening. He pushes my hair behind my ear before withdrawing his hand and slipping it under his chin. I can’t get used to all the touching. Yes, it happens in very small doses, a hand here or there, but still, Max does it willingly. We now face each other, lying on our sides, our heads on our pillows and only a foot apart. We leave a small floor lamp turned on in the corner. It is quiet around us. We’re in a tiny town somewhere in northern Oregon.

“I still want to be a speech therapist. Which means at least six years of school.” Years ago, when I first told him what I wanted to do and why, he always seemed strangely quiet about my plans; but I often caught the way he looked at me when I talked about it. He seemed grateful almost. Like he couldn’t believe it was he who inspired me.

“Again, I never considered you wouldn’t. Jesus, Christina, I know you! You never waver from your plans. You always follow them through. Case in point, finding your long lost sister.”

“So how can this work?”

“It’s only two-and-a-half hours away. We both have cars and we both drive. We’re luckier than most. I’ll visit, or you’ll come home. We’ll make it work.”

Could this be my Max? So positive? So certain? So… cheerful?

“So we’re dating? Exclusively? We’re what? What are we, Max? Once and for all.”

“Together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Once and for all. Forever, as far as I’m concerned.”

I swallow to clear my throat when my anxious nerves fill my stomach with butterflies. “That’s a pretty big proclamation.”

“I feel pretty big towards you.”

My heart blips. One of these days, maybe I’ll grow used to it… then again, I hope when I’m old and gray, I’ll still be blushing, and my heart will still be skipping a beat when Max tells me how he feels about me. That’s my wish, anyway. And for the first time, it doesn’t seem so hopeless. “Not many couples make it through that kind of separation.”

He smiles a cocky grin. “We’re not like most couples. We’re Max and Christina…”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. You forget, I grew up without love. You can’t possibly think that now, after I’ve found it, I’ll ever lose it again.”

“I can’t be with you if you continue fighting. Not anymore. After what I witnessed at the gym… no. I can’t do it. You have to be really over it. I can’t handle it. And I don’t want to handle it, not even for you.”

“I’m done. Lying there in my own blood, after being abandoned by you, of all people… shit, Tiny, I don’t want that either.”

“What will you do? No offense, Max, but you’re lethal when you’re idle. You have to do something.”

He shrugs. “I was actually thinking of taking some classes to learn a skill.”

“Like college classes?”

“Yeah, community college to start. Just to see if I can do it and all. That was Derek’s idea. One of the plans he and Noah are helping me achieve. They also agree I need to do something different. Anything but fighting.”

I jerk up to a sitting position. “You already looked into that? And, by the way, I’m fully behind you if you truly mean there will be no more fighting.”

He kind of chuckles and sits up too, running a hand through his hair. “I have no choice. I’m not kidding you. I already told you Derek was here, and between him and Noah, they specifically laid down the law this time. I have to do something constructive and stop all this shit. We’ll see how far it goes.”

I lie back down slowly and so does he, almost mimicking me. “Is it a possibility you could end up in a university?”

“Three months ago, my answer would’ve been
hell no!
Now? Yeah. There’s a distinct possibility. Derek calls me a pussy since I already have the high school diploma, something he didn’t get to start out with.”

“So what? We go home and then simply go to school?”

“Yeah. Pretty ordinary, huh? Two high school graduates starting college, dating… and of course, going to therapy to help freaky me learn how to offer and receive affection.”

He makes a crossed-eyed face of annoyance. I know how deeply this must humiliate him. I touch the corner of his mouth with mine. His scowl disappears, replaced by agitation that fills his eyes. “That is, if you’re willing to come to therapy. I mean it’s weird and strange and…”

“And I’ll do anything for you. That seems pretty mild.”

He nods, and leans over and kisses my mouth. “Thank you,” he whispers into my ear before tears fill my eyes again. He’s thanking me for something, which is really so small in order to have him in my life. He smiles a weary kind of embarrassed grin. I scoot closer to his body and he scoots closer to mine. He tilts his head and we kiss. It’s a soft, gentle, exchange of breath almost. It’s so full of feeling, yet calm and quiet and real.

We stay that way for several minutes. Just our mouths are touching until he twists his torso and hovers over me. I lie flat on my back and throw my hands up above my head, opening my mouth so his tongue can find mine. I feel his mouth smiling against mine. “You don’t have to do that this time.”

“I think I should,” I reply. I don’t feel like explaining that he needs a lot more time to heal. He must learn to trust me and know that I respect his boundaries. “Besides, there are lots of ways to have sex that don’t involve me grabbing onto, or hovering over you or—”

His eyes find mine. “How do you know about other positions?”

“I have a computer.” I grin. His eyes grow bigger with surprise.

“You looked up sexual positions?”

I nod and something strange and happy fills his face. “I didn’t expect that! Or you. Or any of this.” He leans his head down and kisses me again.

“So we can eventually try all the positions I found. We’ll see what
we
like. We’ll figure this out, Max. Maybe not all at once. So for now, you can trust where my hands are. Right up here.” I clasp my hands together and leave them above my head.

His eyes reflect his relief. I’m happy to take out the surprise and mystery element from it for him. For now, he needs that, although someday, I hope we won’t. But if this is all it takes to be with Max, then so be it. It’s no more than a small hiccup compared to the overall scheme of life. Our sex won’t be about anyone, but the two of us. So if we can accept each other and what we both need, what else matters? Sure, explaining
I don’t touch my boyfriend without asking him first
might sound a little strange to outsiders, but the thing is, living that way in this relationship doesn’t even feel weird to me. Besides, I don’t have any reason to tell anyone about that part.

His lips find mine again. Most of his body rests off to the side, but half his torso leans over me and his lips kiss mine over and over again. I sigh and my liquid happiness flows through all my muscles and tendons. There’s something kind of relaxing about just lying there and letting him control everything. I don’t have to think about it, or worry, or anticipate. I simply lie happily and totally trust him. I close my eyes and nearly float away with the pleasant sensations.

His tongue is hesitant, almost shy, touching only the tip to my lips. He is going very slowly. Is he worried? That does something to my heart. He’s so fearless and cold to the outside world, yet with me, he’s so innocent and unsure. He really wants to share himself with me, but just isn’t confident, or comfortable doing so yet. A weird bubble rises up in my chest. It’s pride and hope because it means so much to see how hard he tries to please me.

It also really turns me on.

My body turns to jelly as all those feelings swirl around inside me. The tip of his tongue touches my lips and I groan my response. His hand flips my shirt up. He lifts my bra above my boob and presses his hand flat over my breast. My nipple instantly turns into a hard knot against his palm. He slides his hand back and forth, and my entire body reacts. I shift my hips towards his and feel like clawing his back to bring him closer to me. But I don’t. It’s kind of a turn-on as I try to restrain my urges and keep myself relaxed.

“Do you mind doing that?” I ask as he kisses me. He lifts his head high enough so his gaze meets mine. A small, tender smile appears.

“I like it more than most things.”

“Why? I mean, you’re still touching me.”

“I guess, because I know it’s touching for a reason and a purpose. I’m touching you there to have sex. I’m sorry.” He lowers his head and I can see his regret at using those words in his eyes.

“Max,” I whisper, making him lift his face back toward me. “It’s okay. I just wondered. You don’t have to apologize for who you are. But we have to be able to communicate about everything, or none of this will work.”

“This is communicating?” His eyebrows rise.

“How will I figure all this out if I don’t ask?”

His hand moves again over my breast and I lift my chest up towards him. “If you have to limit your touch, FYI, I like this. A lot. It’s my favorite.”

A kind of shy smile lifts his lips and the effect on my heart is instantaneous. “Favorite. Noted and recorded.” He suddenly moves to straddle me. I’m surprised at the speed with which his other hand comes under my shirt. He pulls on my shirt and I lift my torso to help him remove it. Gently tucking my hair out of the way, he lets it fall through his fingers before landing on the pillow beneath me. I watch him as he watches it. I’m a little surprised he’s doing so. It’s kind of an emotional, tender move, like nothing I experienced with Max before. Plus… he’s touching me.

“You like my hair?” I ask. His eyes jerk to mine, and a blush reddens his cheeks. Or maybe he’s as flushed as I feel.

“Yeah. It’s sexy. I always wondered what it would look like spread out all over me.”

“Now you can find out,” I whisper back, in a husky tone.
Was that me?
I don’t recognize my own words.

He smiles and nods. “I am.”

He shifts his focus back to my bra before making quick work of unhooking it and sliding it off my shoulders. Tossing it away, his gaze grows darker. I swear, his eyes practically spark as he stares at my naked boobs. They aren’t all that spectacular. I just barely fill a B cup. They are high and pointed and perky, but only little mounds to play with. Both of his hands come up and he flicks both ends of my nipples at the same time. I moan and rise up towards the heat of his hands. He leans down and his mouth laps and pulls on mine. I almost forget and bury my hands in his hair. It’s so silky. The one time I touched it, I loved how smooth and soft it was, separating between my fingers. But for now, I clasp my hands tighter and simply lean towards his mouth. I let the tugging that starts from my breasts blaze a trail of hot desire through all of my nerve endings. It’s intense. He switches sides and puts his fingertips up to play with the wet end of my nipple. The blissful sensations all collide as I squirm, trying to reach towards something more. I make faint sounds of growing desire.

He stops long enough to move down towards my feet, pulling off the black leggings on the way. Off they come. He even discards my socks. His gaze roams over my body. I’m bathed in the soft lamplight. I twist my legs around, feeling his eyes on me and that drives me crazy with desire. He stands beside the bed and starts taking off his shirt, which he throws off casually. I sit up to watch him. It’s a luxury I fully enjoy. Now that I have it, I don’t intend to waste it. He smiles a little when he catches my hungry gaze on his rippled abs. I love the dark sheen of his skin. I love the way he grins, aware that he’s attractive, and yet, a bit of vulnerability escapes from his grin, as if he’s wondering if he’s good enough. His hands go to his jeans and I scoot onto my knees. “Can I?” I wave my hand towards the waistband of his jeans.

He hesitates, stopping his hand as if it were stuck on his jean button. Finally, he nods. I walk on my knees to the end of the bed and set my hand on the jeans material. I’m careful to not slide my hands all over his abdomen muscles like I’d really love to. But I don’t. I undo the button and slowly slide the zipper down on his jeans. I glance up to find him watching what my hands are doing and his expression screams with desire. This is not freaking him out.

I peel back his jeans. His desire for me springs toward my hands, like a heat-seeking missile. I touch him. I make a fist around his shaft with my hand and he groans in appreciation. I use my other hand to push his jeans toward his knees before I drop down to slide them all the way off. He deftly steps out of them. I rise up and we stand there, naked, together for the very first time in our five-year history. Both of our eyes travel everywhere. From our faces, to our torsos, to our mid sections and even our feet. I shift my feet a bit. “I love how you look,” I finally say after a long perusal.