I feel kind of stupid. Especially since I don't know if you'll even read this. I still check the email address I gave you as often as I can, but I'm wondering if maybe you're just not an email kind of guy. If that's the case, I want to give you a chance to write me a letter. You don't have to worry about it being intercepted on my end. I can guarantee that won't happen. The name and address may seem off, but I promise it'll get to me. Don't put your return address on it.
Ariel Lipman
1322 E. Highland Drive
San Diego, CA 15012
If I don't hear from you, I'll take that as a sign that one of my two thoughts about why you haven't replied to my other letters is true and I won't bother you again. I promise.
I miss you, Christian. I know it doesn't seem like I should since we hardly spent any time together since we were children. Maybe I just miss what my heart thought it saw, or wanted to see, in your eyes that night.
Love,
Mimi
Autumn read the letter three times before she neatly folded it and placed it back in the envelope. She looked up when she heard a motorcycle—it was Christian whizzing by on his Harley. She sprang from her bed, and quickly walked to her window craning her neck to see him round the corner and disappear.
So, Christian had a girl in his life. A girl named Mimi who had moved away and was trying to reconnect with him. One thing was obvious. Mimi was smart. The letter was postmarked in Ohio, yet she provided a California address. The girl was going to extremes to get in touch with Christian without revealing where she lived. Had he received the letters and was ignoring her or was it the other possibility Mimi had suggested? That Christian's parents were intercepting them? Autumn wouldn't know why they would do that, but if that was happening, they probably had their reasons. It didn't matter, though. She thought that Mimi deserved a response, and Autumn decided it was her job to give her one. She had no way of knowing if this Mimi person would recognize Christian's handwriting, but Autumn had tutored him enough to know that she could come pretty close to emulating it. She went to her desk and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. After all, Christian certainly wouldn't be the type of guy to use fancy stationery.
* * *
I chewed the inside of my cheek raw while I listened as Christian briefly described a girl who used to babysit for Daisy to be around him.
“I can’t remember once asking her to bring in the mail, but I know that there were a few times I found it piled on the kitchen table. Up until now, I’d always assumed someone in the family brought it in.” Aunt Christy blew out a long breath and ran a frustrated hand through her short blond hair.
"Who could've thought that something so hateful could've resulted from you rejecting a girl?" I exclaimed, nodding toward the letter Aunt Christy was tightly clutching between her fingers. "She must've really had a thing for you," I said to Christian’s profile.
Aunt Christy started to say something when there was a light rap at the door and my mother poked her head in.
"I'm sorry for interrupting." She turned her head toward Christian and said, "Your father wants to speak with you. Should I tell him you'll be down soon or..."
I looked at Aunt Christy and watched as she discreetly folded the letter without my mother noticing. Apparently, we’d just made a silent pact that my family didn't need to be privy to our conversation. Christian’s expression revealed he concurred. The past was in the past and needed to stay there. I was relieved and felt a wave of love rush over me when I recognized the look on my mother's face. She was feeling left out. She didn't belong outside with the testosterone turkey brigade, and she hadn't been invited upstairs for our private talk. Christian looked like he had more to say when I interjected.
"It's okay, Mom. I think we're done here." I inhaled deeply and the scent of the vanilla bean sachets I kept hidden around my room were oddly comforting. At that moment they felt like lungfuls of happiness.
I hadn't meant to cut our discussion short, but in my mind there was nothing more to be said. Autumn had been a vindictive teenager, and as soon as I got Christian alone I would make sure he knew I didn't want to start our marriage off with him exacting his revenge on her.
Before leaving us, Christian grabbed me softly by my upper arms and looked down into my eyes. "I want to talk more about this later. When we're alone. All right?"
"Is everything okay?" I detected the sincere concern in my mother’s voice. She may not have been ready to give her blessing for our relationship, but she was a nurturer at heart.
"It's all good." I nodded at Christian, and repeated, "All good." I smiled and waved him off as my mother stepped into the room as Christian left.
"I guess it's not something I need to know about?" she asked.
"It's not a big deal, Mom. And it's not important anymore. We're all good."
She looked relieved. "I thought maybe you were conspiring to elope or something. You never did make that announcement you promised after you talked to Christian about deciding to wait until fall. You did talk to him, right?"
I didn't get a chance to reply when Aunt Christy said, "No conspiracy here, Ginny. And fall is just as good as summer. It'll be wonderful to have us all together. Especially Abby. She should be part of Mimi and Christian's wedding day. Slade, Daisy, Jason, and the twins, too!"
It was an odd statement, but I thought I caught her drift. I grabbed Aunt Christy's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'm sure your daughter—" I paused to clarify in case my mother hadn't known or didn’t remember, "and Christian's half sister, Abby, will be with us. Like my father, Tommy. They'll both be with us in Spirit."
My mother looked confused. And Aunt Christy, realizing a split second too late that I hadn't known the truth behind the name Abby tattooed on Christian's arm, blurted out, "Not that Abby."
The light behind her eyes started to wane when she recognized her faux pas, but it was already too late to turn back from the truth.
In an almost apologetic voice she said, "I'm talking about Abby, Christian's daughter."
Chapter 40
Pine Creek, North Carolina 2007
I was certain I hadn’t heard her right. My knees felt like they were getting ready to buckle so I unceremoniously plopped on my bed. My eyes were focused but staring at nothing; I couldn’t seem to tear them away from a dark-green candle that rested on my dresser.
I felt the bed sag slightly as Aunt Christy sat next to me and reached for my hand.
“How could he not have told me he has a daughter?” I barely whispered. “I’ve been with him twenty-four seven for more than a week. I’ve shared every secret, good and bad.”
Aunt Christy squeezed my hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Mimi. I didn’t know he hadn’t told you about Abby. I should’ve realized something was off when you didn’t react to her mother’s name.”
I cut my head sharply to the right. Her blue eyes were misty.
“Are you telling me that Autumn is the mother of Christian’s child? The same Autumn who wrote that hateful letter?”
“What letter?” This from my mother who was probably more confused than I was.
I looked up at her and shook my head. “I’ll tell you later, Mom.” So much for keeping that fiasco private.
I stood, freeing Aunt Christy’s hand from mine and approached my dresser. With my back to them, I asked, “And Christian’s daughter never once came up in any of the conversations the four of you have had since our little reunion?” I turned to glare at both of them.
“No, Abby never came up,” my mother admitted, glancing over at Aunt Christy. “Then again, in defense of the Bears, we were all dealing with what I thought were bigger matters.” She leaned against my bookshelf and offered, “Preventing your father from beating the life out of Christian comes to mind.”
Aunt Christy stood up and walked toward me. “And we didn’t make the drive up the mountain together. We were in separate cars. We’d just gotten up from taking a nap and put that pot of coffee on when you came back from yo
ur cousin’s.”
Sensing I didn’t want her to come any closer, she stopped. “And when your grandfather was telling stories about Grizz raising twins at his age, I started to chime in about how Anthony and I had been going through the same thing with Abby, but Christian cut me off.”
“Abby lives with you and Uncle Anthony?” I asked, cocking my head to one side.
“We’ve had legal custody of her since she was six months old,” she admitted. “Autumn never wanted a child. She wanted a means to trap Christian. He was sentenced to prison before she gave birth. With him out of the picture, she had no desire to take care of Abby or be a mother.”
I looked at the ceiling and clenched my jaw. “Now it all makes sense. Christian gets out of prison, it’s time for him to get his daughter back, and he needs a mother for her.” I shook my head in disgust. I wanted to muster some anger, but the deep sadness I was feeling smothered it. I’d been a fool.
“No!” Aunt Christy quickly came to Christian’s defense. “I’m not saying that he was right to not tell you. I’m not saying that how he’s gone about any of this was right. But I am saying you’re wrong about the reason why.”
I put my hands on my hips and thrust my jaw forward. “And how could you possibly know Christian’s reason for not telling me about his daughter?”
“Because I know my son, Mimi. I know that he’s ashamed. Not of Abby.” She smiled sadly before continuing. “He’s ashamed of not being there for her. He’s embarrassed that she doesn’t know him, and worse yet, she’s afraid of him. She literally screams when he’s near her.”
I didn’t have a comeback, but knowing she’d caught my attention, she continued. “Christian doesn’t want you to be a mother to the daughter he hasn’t been a father to. I’m sure he has big plans to have more children with you. He has loved you for as long as I can remember, Mimi. And I know he hopes that Abby will come around and that you can be a real family, but I can say for certain that he’s not using you to make that happen.”
My mother stifled a cough and I knew what she was thinking.
“He knows, Mom.” I evenly addressed my mother. “I was up front with him about everything. Everything.” I slapped my hand against my thigh in exasperation. “And I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this—that during our soul-baring moments, he failed to mention his daughter!”
“What does Christian know?” Aunt Christy asked, looking from my mother and then back to me.
“I was in a serious accident. I broke my pelvis and lacerated my uterus.” I looked at the hardwood floor. “I had to have a hysterectomy. I can’t have children, Aunt Christy.”
“That’s not true, Mimi,” my mother interrupted.
I rolled my eyes. “The ovaries are separate from the uterus so they weren’t removed. But I don’t get periods, and I can’t get pregnant or carry a child.”
“But you can have your eggs extracted and use a surrogate?” Aunt Christy asked me.
“Yes, but…” I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t plan on doing that.”
“I see,” was all she said. I detected a short burst of air and before I knew it, Christian’s mother was hugging me. Aunt Christy was so short I could rest my cheek on the top of her head.
She pulled back and looked up at me, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t let Abby come between you and Christian." She sighed before continuing. “Please give him a chance to tell you, Mimi. I heard him say before he walked out that he wanted to talk to you more. I’m guessing that’s what it’s about.”
I blinked but didn’t answer her.
“Christian has always been a ball of frenzied and misplaced anger.” She addressed my mother, admitting, “I’m probably not making a good case in front of his potential future mother-in-law, but please hear me out.” Looking back at me, she smiled and continued, “I used to think it stemmed from when he’d been targeted for the color of his skin when he was a child. He got past that. Then I thought he was naturally belligerent, destined to be a born troublemaker. But now I see it’s not true at all. Christian is a very passionate soul. He always has been. He’s very loyal to those he loves, and I know he loves you, Mimi. Do you know that I cannot remember the last time I saw my son smile before this impromptu gathering? I’m still in shock that he didn’t retaliate against your father. You have always had that effect on him. You’re like a balm to his soul. He’s a different person with you.”
“I don’t want Christian to be a different person, Aunt Christy. I love Christian the way he is. I don’t need or want him to change for me. And most importantly, I don’t want him to be someone he’s not.”
I saw the relief on her face. “That’s my point,” she said followed by a wide grin. “I think the real Christian has been buried beneath all that other stuff. The real Christian is who I’m seeing when I watch him watching you. It’s like his soul is finally being filled up with what’s been missing for so many years.” She made sure I was listening. “You.”
I gave her a half smile and looked over at my mother. I could see the romantic in her was doing battle with her sensible side. She shrugged her shoulders slightly and tilted her head to the side. The complete opposite of her feelings from our earlier conversation, it was her way of telling me to forgive him. That was her belief even though she thought things were progressing too quickly.
Aunt Christy wore a worried expression. “I’ll give him a chance to explain, Aunt Christy. If I detect anything other than what you’ve shared about his reason for not telling me about Abby, I can tell you now this will never work out.”
“That’s all I ask,” she replied.
We all heard my father yell for Aunt Christy. He apparently didn’t know where she’d gone. It was our cue to join the others.
As I followed both women down the stairs I was suddenly gripped by fear. I tried to figure out what I found so frightening, and it hit me as soon as my foot found the bottom step.
I was afraid that it had all been a ruse on Christian’s part. That he was using me. To what extent? I wasn’t sure. To win a misguided bet to marry the infamous Grizz’s daughter? To play mommy to his child while he ran around impregnating other women? To make me pay for riding out of his life five years ago?
The myriad of reasons taunted me as I walked like a zombie through our great room, and zeroed in on Christian and my grandfather talking by themselves on the back deck. They spotted me at the same time, and I watched my grandfather prompt Christian to approach me.
Christian opened the slider, headed toward me with a purpose. “Mimi, come here, please. I have to tell you something.”
I looked past Christian and caught sight of my father and Aunt Christy walking in the direction of our hen house. I took Christian’s hand and led him out the same sliders he’d just walked through. I took him down the deck steps, the opposite direction of the hens.
"You're darn right you have something to tell me,” I huffed as I angrily pulled him toward the woods.
Chapter 41
Pine Creek, North Carolina 2007
I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling. It was a full moon, and my bedroom was shrouded in a warm glow. It was well past midnight, and for obvious reasons, sleep had eluded me. I tossed and turned as I relived the conversation I’d had with Christian after finding out that Abby was his daughter, named after the older half sister he’d never known.
My brain battled and raged over him deliberately hiding the truth, followed by sadness as to the reason why. Just like his mother had told me, Christian went into even more detail about Abby’s fear of him. He explained how Aunt Christy brought her to see him while he’d been in prison. When she was an infant, he could do nothing but hold her and stare into her beautiful, tiny face as she slept. He’d even been able to give her a bottle, burp her, and change her diaper. As she got older, she would cling to Aunt Christy, screaming at the top of her lungs when Christian had tried to hold her. Christian finally told his mother to stop bringing her. And w
hen Aunt Christy defied him and brought Abby against his wishes, Christian refused to see both of them.
“It’s even worse since I got out,” he’d explained. “She cries if I’m even in the same room with her, Mimi. I can’t figure out why. I look almost identical to my father and she adores him. It’s why I moved in with Slade for a while. I could’ve stayed at my parents’ house, but it puts everyone on edge to see her so upset.”
“I just don’t see why you couldn’t tell me when I asked you about the tattoo,” I’d replied, thoroughly exasperated. “This looks bad. It looks like you tricked me. And now we’re legally married. It’s like you trapped me on purpose.”
We’d been walking on the property away from the house. Christian stopped and turned me to face him. Taking both my hands, his blue eyes grew serious when he said, “The timing wasn’t right, Mimi. It was so early on when you asked about the tattoo, I didn’t know where we stood. As we started getting to know each other, telling you about a daughter who hates me didn’t feel right. I was going to tell you on the drive to your parents’ house—the original visit we’d planned before they all showed up.”
“Hey,” I’d jumped in, “we made the drive alone up to Pine Creek. There was opportunity.”
“A drive that was already weighted by our parents’ unannounced visit and you learning that your friend had died.”
I’d pulled my hands away from his to cross my arms. I looked around, avoiding his penetrating gaze. I warred with myself, wanting to dredge up some anger for not just the Abby secret, but for the entire situation. I could feel his eyes on me as another thought occurred.