The You I Never Knew (20 page)

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Authors: Susan Wiggs

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: The You I Never Knew
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hen Michelle rushed back inside the house, she pushed aside the kitchen curtain to catch a last glimpse of Sam. The moon, a cold white smile, threw a stream of light over him, and he held up one hand in farewell. Embarrassed to be caught, she dropped the curtain and leaned against the counter. She was shaking all over. Shaking with memories and wanting and, most of all, with fear. Sam McPhee was part of her past, part of a past she had traveled far, far away from, and she shouldn’t be having this explosive chemical reaction to him. But he was so bound up in things that were important—Cody and her art and Montana and Gavin—that she felt both wildly attracted to him and terrified of him.
She checked on Cody, finding the door to his room firmly closed. Then she brewed a cup of tea, using two bags to make it stronger, and when she sat down on the sofa, her hand went to the phone.
After two rings, she was tapping her foot with impatience. He picked up on the fourth ring. “Brad Lovell.”
“It’s me.”
“Hiya, babe.” He sounded warm and comfortable.
She smiled, her insides watery with relief. “What are you doing? Are you busy?”
“Going over some papers. Looks like we’ll be able to afford a condo on Kauai after all—”
“Brad?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I have to tell you something.”
“What, you’d rather find a place on Maui?”
“No, nothing like that.” God. When did he get the impression she wanted a condo in Hawaii in the first place?
“What is it, Michelle?”
She blew on her tea, took a sip. “It’s about Cody.”
“Shit. Is he in trouble already?”
It bugged her no end that Brad’s first assumption was that Cody got in trouble. It bugged her even more that, basically, he was right.
“Well, there’s trouble… and there’s trouble.”
“So you want to tell me, or are we going to play twenty questions?”
She took another sip, then set her cup down. “It’s about his… about the man who fathered him.”
“The cowboy.”
“Yes. Um, he lives in Crystal City now. The other night I… ran into him.” She made a swift decision not to explain the details.
“So did he recognize you?”
She was a little insulted by the implication. “Yes. And it didn’t take him long to put two and two together and figure out about Cody.”
Silence.
“Brad?”
“I keep waiting to hear you say you’re going on
Oprah
with all this.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “Right. Anyway, we—I told Cody tonight. He wasn’t thrilled, but I think he’s still getting used to the idea.”
“What about you, Michelle? Are you thrilled?”
She felt a sting of guilt, because she wanted to be able to say that seeing Sam again meant nothing to her. That she felt nothing.
“I was shocked, I guess. Surprised. I never thought I’d see him again. But it turns out he did all right for himself, became a doctor, and he’s a partner in a horse ranch about ten miles from here. His name is Sam McPhee.”
“Do you think he wants something from you?”
She thought about the way Sam had touched her, the way he’d said good night. A shiver passed over her. “Like… what?”
“Like visitation rights or something.”
A terrible chill touched the base of her neck. “I have no idea. It all came about so fast. He hasn’t asked for a thing.”
Yet
. But tonight she had seen the questions in his eyes.
“Well, if he gets some idea that playing the dad is all fun and games, remind him of what college tuition costs these days.”
“It’s not a matter of finance.”
“Sweetheart, everything is a matter of finance.”
“Not this. I’m going to let Cody get used to the idea and… see what happens. Oh, God, Brad, what if he wants to be with his father more than he wants to be with me?” She poured her fears into the receiver.
“Why would he want that?” Brad sounded genuinely baffled. “Look, don’t worry. You’re good to Cody. He loves you. He’s just having a tough time right now, like any kid.” Brad changed the subject easily enough, and she let him, grateful for once to hear him ponder the merits of Kauai over Maui. After making the appropriate murmurs, she said good-bye and hung up.
The conversation left her with a vague, ineffable sense of dissatisfaction. Why can’t Brad be as decisive about us as he is about vacation property? she wondered.
Restless, she finished her tea and made a second cup, knowing the caffeine would keep her up, but she was past caring. For a long time, she gazed at the small framed picture of her mother, which she carried in her briefcase everywhere she went. Sharon Turner stood swathed in a Dior gown, her hair and makeup perfect as she blew a kiss to someone behind the camera. “Miss you, Mom,” Michelle whispered. “I sure as heck would like to hear your voice right now.” She drummed her hands on the phone. She knew who she was going to call. She knew she’d probably regret it, but she was going to do it anyway. She punched in the number and waited.
On the third ring, a voice said, “Hello?”
“Natalie, sorry to call so late. It’s me.”
“Michelle!” she squealed in unfeigned delight.
“Are you busy?” Michelle asked, though she knew that whatever Natalie was doing would come to a halt, because she was that sort of friend.
“I’ve been practicing arpeggios on my cello. Very exciting. But I love house-sitting at your place. Awesome hot tub. Now
you,
sweetie! What’s happened? How’s it going?”
Aside from Cody and Brad, Natalie was the only one Michelle had told about the transplant. It wasn’t the sort of thing to be discussed with casual work acquaintances. And with Gavin Slade for a father, Michelle had learned to keep quiet lest the media sense a story.
“I’m all set to go into the hospital Saturday for one more procedure. If that checks out, we’ll get a thumbs-up for surgery on Monday.”
“When’s Brad going over? Will he meet you at the hospital in Missoula?”
Soft leather creaked as she shifted position on the sofa. “Brad and I had a long talk about this before I left. I can’t decide what I need from him. Maybe I don’t even need him to come at all.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. You’re taking this I-can-cope-on-my-own crap too far. Of course he needs to come.”
“If Brad’s around, I’ll worry about what he’s doing and thinking, pacing the halls of a hospital in a strange city. I’ll go nuts wondering if he and Cody are getting along. It might be better to let him stay in Seattle, keep him posted by phone. Anyway, he’s on standby. He promised that if I decide I want him with me, he’ll drop everything and come.”
“Brad’s never dropped a thing in his life. Except maybe hints that I should take a hike.”
There was a grain of truth in that. Brad and Natalie drove each other insane. “My dad and I are prepared. Everything will be fine.”
“You’re going to save your father’s life. I’m getting a rush thinking about this.”
“Don’t knock yourself out, Natalie. It’s just a surgical procedure.”
“Just?
Just?
Not hardly, sweetie. I know you don’t believe in this stuff, Michelle, but it’s real. You’ve got to think about the spiritual aspect of it. You’re giving life to the father who gave you life.”
“I’m giving a kidney to the father who gave me a monthly check.”
“No, listen, you have to listen.” Michelle could picture Natalie sitting forward in that in-your-face way of hers. She wondered what color her friend’s hair was tonight. Natalie had discovered hair mascara and hadn’t been the same since. “There is a deeper meaning to this. It’s not just plumbing.”
“Natalie, it
is
. And thank God that it is, because that means it can be done at all. If it required magic and miracles, we’d be in big trouble.”
“Okay, at least think about this. Physiologically, it
is
just plumbing. But you have to stay open to the possibility that something more is going to happen to you. Something amazing. You’re going to connect with your father on a
cellular
level.”
Michelle laughed, trying not to spray tea. “Yeah, Nat, that’s the part I’m really looking forward to.”
“You wait and see. How are you and your dad getting along?”
“I hate to disappoint you, but we’re like a couple of cordial strangers. He’s embarrassed and apologetic about the whole thing. Like he committed a faux pas by getting sick. And now that we’re together again, it’s…” She paused, feeling a sting of regret. “Let’s just say there’s been no cellular connection.”
“There will be. I bet he went bananas over Cody.”
This time she almost choked. “Natalie,” she gasped into the phone, “you’re killing me.”
“What? Your dad’s never seen Cody. It must be wonderful, bringing them together.”
“It’s like bringing together Johnny Depp and Charlton Heston. Cody’s being horrible, my dad doesn’t know what to make of him, and they’re both inches from exploding.”
“Oh, Michelle. I’m sorry. Let me talk to the Cody-boy.” She had known him since the day he was born—literally. As Michelle’s birthing coach, Natalie was the one who, sobbing as hard as Michelle was, had cut the umbilical cord. She decided then and there that she loved him, and her love hadn’t wavered since.
“He’s asleep. He had a little accident.”
“
Accident?
You bitch, why didn’t you call me?”
“It was minor. He cut his head.”
“How?”
“On… a horse’s hoof.”
“Hold the goddamned phone, Michelle. You’re telling me he got kicked in the head by one of your father’s horses?”
“Actually, he got kicked in the head by one of
his
father’s horses.”
“Michelle!” She could picture Natalie now, totally agitated, pacing up and down in her designer living room, shrieking into the phone. “Do you mean to tell me the cowboy’s there?”
She had never told her any more than she told Brad or Cody. “He lives in the area now.”
“
Get out
. Did you know he was there?”
“No, it was a complete surprise. He’s actually a physician now.”
Silence. Complete and utter stunned silence. It was rare, a totally quiet Natalie, and Michelle grinned, enjoying the novelty of it.
“Holy goddamned horseshit,” she said at last. “So let me get this straight. The no-account cowpoke who knocked you up came back to town and is now a respected citizen and doctor?”
“That’s about it.”
“And your dad never thought to tell you?”
“We never spoke, Natalie.”
“Okay, get to the good part. Is the cowboy doctor married?”
“No.”
“Involved?”
“I don’t know.”
“If he was, you’d know. What did he and Cody say when you told them?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Fine. I’m coming.”
“What?”
“Probably take me a day and a half in the Volkswagen.”
“Natalie, you can’t—”
“I said, I’m
coming
.” She slammed down the phone.
Though she knew it was fruitless, Michelle hit redial a couple of times, but she got the expected voice-mail pickup.
“Nat, I’ve got enough going on without you showing up,” she said, knowing her friend was ignoring her as she flew around the town house, flinging mismatched, inappropriate clothes into a woven Costa Rican shoulder bag. “I think,” Michelle said, speaking to the tape, “there’s such a thing as being
too
good a friend.” She went on in this vein, trying to dissuade Natalie, but she knew it was useless.
When she hung up the phone, she felt strange and sort of disoriented. She was happy Natalie was coming. She was dismayed that Natalie was coming. She couldn’t make up her mind how she felt. But one thing was certain. Natalie was the sort of person who got everything out in the open. And she knew Michelle better than anyone else in the universe.
Natalie would take one look at Michelle when Sam was around, and she’d
know
. Natalie would know that Michelle couldn’t stop thinking about him, and that she had no idea what to do about him.
Michelle kept reminding herself that she had a life. She had Cody and Brad and her career. That was what she needed to focus on. That, and getting through the surgery.
She lay down on the sofa, shut her eyes, and suddenly the ideas started coming. There was a part of her, a wild, out-of-control part, that had some very explicit ideas of what to do about Sam McPhee, and if she knew what was good for her, she’d ignore them.

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