His Other Life

Chapter 40

FORTY

ISLA

Present day

Isla slammed on the brake and came to a screeching stop with the right front tire against the curb. “I remember,” she gasped while willing the mayhem in her head to settle. Colors and voices and the sharp, bitter scent of burned rubber muddled the past and the present together into an untidy mess that brought tears to Isla’s eyes. “I remember everything.”

The memories poured out of her in a rush while Rowan listened.

“I swerved,” she said. “His confession—it felt like he’d struck me, and I went limp.”

Rowan stared at her, his gaze inscrutable. “And you went off the road.”

Isla tested the restored memory and found that it held. “Yes, but that’s not how it happened.”

Again, the next few seconds of that fateful night played in slow motion before her inner eye.

“I swerved left into the oncoming lane, but then Jonah grabbed the wheel, like you did now, only he was drunk so he overcorrected.”

The horror from that moment clashed with the release of the knot she’d hogtied herself with to prevent any forward motion ever since. She let out a shaky breath as warm tears welled and spilled down her cheeks.

“Next I knew, I woke up in the hospital with Nana’s voice ringing in my ears.”

Rowan put his hand over hers. “You’re shaking.”

Isla looked down at where they touched. “Am I?” A sob forced its way up her throat but morphed into a laugh. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “I actually remember.” Half laughing, half crying, she leaned into Rowan as he opened his arms for her.

Over the next several minutes, a maelstrom of contradicting emotions washed over her, flushing her feverishly warm one second and freezing cold the next, but she allowed it to be what it was and waited it out. Relief and sorrow melded together. On the one hand, Jonah’s death hadn’t been her fault. On the other, he’d been unfaithful. She should be enraged, but all the realization added was a new shade to her grief. The handsome SOB hadn’t just died on her, he’d done so as a consequence of admitting his betrayal. What a waste.

“You’re scaring me a little,” Rowan said somewhere above her head, as he patted her back. “But I think you’re okay, right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Isla buried her nose in the comforting scent of his flannel and wiped her cheek. “Just a little longer.”

He chuckled, his chest bouncing against her. “Take as long as you need.”

When she finally felt steady enough to release him, she sat back and blinked at their mundane surroundings. Everything looked exactly as it had ten minutes ago and yet she was more than she had been, her hollow core now filled with material reality once more.

“Sorry about the…” She moved her hands to mimic swerving. “Thanks for intervening.”

As she said it, the second truth came rushing back. In the onslaught of recollections, she’d all but forgotten the other party to Jonah’s infidelity. She needed to get a hold of Louise or whoever she was. Now.

“I don’t think I should drive,” she said to Rowan, already opening her door. “Would you mind?”

“Good thinking.”

She was on her phone, texting, before he’d even pulled away from the curb.

I need to talk to you. Call me.

“Screw it,” she muttered, then she dialed Louise’s number instead.

Voicemail.

“Who are you trying to reach?” Rowan asked.

“Louise.” Isla forced her voice to remain steady. “She’ll want to know my memory came back.”

She wouldn’t tell him her suspicions until she’d confirmed it. He’d already seen her come unhinged once today. No need to fuel that fire if she was wrong.

Louise had never taken this long to respond to a message before. Her read receipts were on, so Isla knew her friend had seen the texts, and yet nothing. All afternoon she paced the house, alternating between texting and calling. Mom had taken the ferry over to Whidbey for the day with a friend, so there was no one there to tell her to calm down.

Why wasn’t she answering?

Isla even went on the bird curio forum to see if she was online, but not only was she not, it seemed she’d left the group.

Please call me, she texted a little before nine. You knew him, right? I need to know.

And then, finally, a response. Two words only. I’m sorry.

“No!” Isla called out. That wasn’t enough. She was so close, but this part of the story still lay in the shadows.

She sat down on the couch and stared at her phone, her thumbs perched to type.

If you were ever my friend, you’ll tell me the truth.

Nothing.

“Please,” she said as she called one more time, but this time it went straight to voicemail without a single ring.

She threw her phone onto the table and collapsed back onto the cushions, and that’s where Mom must have found her when she got home.

As soon as Isla woke up the next morning, neck sore from sleeping on the couch, she knew what she had to do. It was eight o’clock, and in Nancy’s bedroom, the sound machine was still whirring, so Isla rushed back and forth between her room and the kitchen as quietly as she could while getting ready. Before she headed out the door, she wrote her mom a note.

Driving south this time was nothing like it had been when she and Mav set out two and a half weeks ago. There was no reluctance and no dejection, urgency and determination having taken their place. She would find Louise or Gemma or whatever her name was, and then she’d finally know. If she was right, Louise was the woman Jonah had had an affair with. Louise who had been her friend through some of the darkest times. The duplicity coated Isla’s senses, but in the wake of the Mav situation, it was as if her ability to truly take it in was already saturated. If she tried to picture Louise and Jonah together, it played like a bad movie she’d watched too long ago to remember why she didn’t like it. The movie may be real, but its impact was limited.

Rowan had texted when she stopped to stretch her legs in Olympia. Mav would be allowed to go home tomorrow and was doing better after the transfusion. Feel free to stop by if you want. He’d be happy to see you.

Isla didn’t respond. She was still figuring out what she wanted her future relationship with Mav to look like.

It was a little after one in the afternoon when Isla reached Vancouver and the dentist’s office where, if she was right, Louise worked. She’d had time on the way there to wonder if her friend had been hiding inside the office all along when Isla stopped by the week before and had instructed the receptionist not to say anything. Today she wouldn’t make that mistake.

Instead, she parked where she had a clear view of the door and prepared for a long wait. She’d bought food on the way and had nothing but time on her hands. This was it. According to their website, the office closed at five, but Isla would stay vigilant, she vowed. This time, Louise/Gemma wouldn’t slip away.

Made it to Vancouver , she texted Mom. Hopefully you didn’t need the car today.

She’d explained the situation as best as she could in her note, and since her phone hadn’t blown up earlier, she assumed Mom had understood the importance of this trip.

She was right. Minutes later Nancy texted back. Good luck. Love you.

“Thanks, Mom,” Isla whispered. She was going to need it.

The clock turned 5 PM, 5:05, 5:10. Two other people had left the building, but still no sign of Louise. For the first time since leaving home that morning, Isla second-guessed her plan. What if Louise wasn’t at work today? Then this would have all been for nothing.

A car honked in the intersection at the corner of the parking lot, diverting Isla’s attention, and when she looked back, there was her target in blue scrub pants and a familiar red puffer jacket, hurrying away.

Isla jumped out of the car and locked it over her shoulder as she strode with resolute steps after her friend.

“Hey!” she called. “Gemma!”

Louise stopped and whipped round. Isla’s steps faltered. She’d been right. Until that moment, there had at least been a possibility of another explanation, but that was now gone.

As soon as Louise-slash-Gemma saw who’d called her, her expression went from open and agreeable to wary. She took a small step backward. “You’re here.”

Isla continued toward her until only a few yards remained. “And so are you—Gemma or Louise or whatever the hell I should call you.”

Gemma bit her lip. It made her look much younger than “Louise the journalist.”

“It’s Gemma. Was always Gemma.” She raised her hands as if she wanted to reach out but dropped them again. “I’m really sorry. You have to believe me, I?—”

Isla lifted her chin. “I don’t think I have to do anything. I can’t believe it was you all along. You and Jonah? How could you—? Why didn’t you—?” Her throat tightened around the elusive words. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I was!” Gemma stepped closer. “I am. I just…”

Isla scoffed. “Some friend. You’ve lied to me for months. All this time when I was searching for answers, you knew!”

“But I didn’t.” Gemma shook her head. “Not about what happened. I wanted to find out too.” She fiddled with the slim wristwatch on her arm.

“Am I inconveniencing you?” Isla asked. “You’ve got things to do more important than talking to me right now? The wife of the man you tried to steal? The friend you double-crossed?” The anger she’d found hard to conjure toward her dead husband saw no such impairment when presented with a living culprit.

“It wasn’t like that,” Gemma said.

“Then tell me.” Isla opened her arms to encompass the world at large. “What was it like? The truth this time.”

“I will, but”—Gemma looked over her shoulder—“I’m in a bit of a hurry right now.”

“You’re kidding, right?” The nerve of this woman.

“No.” She gestured toward the daycare sign at the end of the strip mall. “I have to pick up Josie. They charge if I’m late.”

Isla frowned. Why would daycare fines for her niece be Gemma’s problem? “You do a lot for your sister,” she said. “I hope she appreciates it. But I have questions, and I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

Gemma seemed to consider this, but finally she nodded as if she’d made a decision. “Fine. Come on. I’ll get her, then we’ll talk.” When they reached the door, she told Isla to wait outside.

“And you’re not going to slip away through a different exit or anything?” Isla asked.

“Don’t worry. It’s time,” was Gemma’s cryptic answer.

Ten minutes later, she returned to the front with a bundled-up kid in her arms. She avoided eye contact as she pushed open the door with her hip, but once she was outside, she faced Isla. She hesitated for a beat, then turned so Isla could see the little girl.

The toddler who’d buried her face against Gemma’s shoulder lifted her head, and in that split second, Isla’s whole world came to a stop. Blond hair, hazel eyes, a dip in the chin.

Isla’s gaze cut from the child to Gemma and back, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“This is Josie,” Gemma said. “My daughter. Say hi, baby.”

Isla gasped as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “She’s Jonah’s.”

Gemma nodded. “She is.” She hoisted the little girl higher on her hip. “Look, I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but she’s tired right now and probably hungry. I’m only a few blocks away. Why don’t you come home with us and we can talk?”

“You live here? I thought you were in Longview.”

“I used to be. That’s where my aunt is. I moved when Josie was born. Will you come? You can leave your car here.”

Isla’s mouth opened and closed. The initial bolts of fury she’d been ready to hurl at Gemma for her role in Jonah’s infidelity had slipped out of her hands at the sight of Josie, and now her fists clutched only emptiness at her side. “Okay,” she said, unable to think of a different response.

“Okay, good. The stroller is over here.”

Gemma’s apartment was a small two-bedroom box in a beige 1980s building, but she’d given it personality by adding a wallpapered accent wall and quirky art in mismatched frames.

“Can I get you some coffee or tea?” Gemma put Josie in her highchair and went into the kitchen.

“Either is fine.” Isla couldn’t take her eyes off the little girl who was flipping the pages of a cardboard book back and forth. She sat down at the table and pointed to one of the pages. “Is that a cat?”

Josie peered up at her through dark eyelashes. Then she nodded once.

“And what does the cat do?”

“Cat,” Josie said.

Isla smiled. The little girl was a spitting image of Jonah, but the shape of her brow and her mouth were Gemma’s, no mistake about it.

“That’s right, it’s a cat. Meow,” Isla said.

Josie’s eyes widened as she giggled, the sound enveloping Isla’s heart like a compression blanket.

Jonah had a daughter. A daughter that wasn’t hers.

Gemma joined them and set a mug down in front of Isla and a cup of yogurt and some sliced strawberries in front of Josie. “Snack time,” Gemma said. “You can have your book back later.”

Once Josie started eating, Gemma stirred her coffee and sat back in her chair. “Thanks for not yelling,” she said. “You must be furious.”

Isla took stock. She had been, but was she now? The yogurt smeared around Josie’s mouth made adverse emotions difficult to access. There were still pain and hurt somewhere deep within—and a voice reminding her that this was what she’d wanted. Jonah’s child. At the same time, that pain stretched to incorporate the fact that Jonah would never know this sweet little person he’d created. “Furious” wasn’t the right word for either of those emotions.

“I take it you were never a journalist,” Isla said instead of responding directly.

“No. Always a dental hygienist. That’s how I met Jonah.”

“When he needed that crown.”

Gemma nodded.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

While Josie ate, Gemma did exactly that. She told Isla about how she and Jonah had met, how she’d helped him when he had Covid, how they’d stayed in touch.

“I think I justified it by telling myself you couldn’t possibly be right for him,” she said, after picking up a wayward piece of fruit from the floor.

“Did he say that?” Isla wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, but she asked anyway. Her husband had cheated on her—it was time to take off the rose-colored glasses.

“No. We didn’t talk much about you. It was something I needed to believe because…” Gemma looked away. “I was falling in love with him. Or I thought I was.”

Gemma’s words brought Isla back to when she and Jonah had first met. The flowers, the compliments, how he’d swept her off her feet. How his attention had intoxicated her. She knew all too well what falling in love with him had felt like. “Did he tell you he was going to leave me?” She held her breath.

“Never.” Gemma glanced at her daughter. “That was a big ol’ ‘told you so’ for my aunt.”

“She knew?”

“Hard to keep a secret when you’re living together.”

Isla wasn’t so sure of that. Jonah had managed this secret fine under their shared roof. She took a sip of coffee, her eyes drawn to the lit-up windows across the courtyard where other families were going about their evenings. Her stomach tightened as the bitter brew reached it.

“The photo of him in the car and the bracelet—I take it that was you?”

Gemma confirmed it was.

Isla nodded. Not so serendipitous after all. “And then what happened? Why did you call him at the hotel? Were you there?”

Gemma wiped Josie’s mouth. “No. We’d ended it. He said you guys wanted to start a family, so he had to come clean. I finally got it. It was the right thing to do.”

“That’s how I knew, by the way,” Isla said. “You told Mav and Rowan about us trying for a baby, but no one else knew about that.”

Gemma’s mouth formed a silent O. “I was wondering what gave it away.” She ran a finger across the tabletop. “He was planning on telling you in Bend, so when I found out I was pregnant a week before, I tried to reach him.”

“You hoped he’d change his mind?”

“No.” The word rang out between them, plain and earnest. “I thought if he was going to come clean about everything , he should know about that too. But he must have blocked my number, so my last shot was calling the hotel and getting through to him that way. All the hotels actually because I didn’t know which one you were staying at.”

“Did he call you back?”

Gemma shook her head. “And now we know that was by choice since he did get the note.”

A wave of relief swept over Isla, as if it made a difference that he’d been loyal in the end.

“I didn’t find out about the accident until several months later,” Gemma continued. “I was getting big and uncomfortable and in a moment of weakness, I called his company. They’re the ones who told me.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “If I hadn’t had my baby to think about, I don’t know what I would have done.”

Isla nodded. “I know that despair.”

For a while, the only sound in the room was that of Josie’s plastic spoon tapping the table, then Gemma asked if Isla wanted more coffee. “Or I have stuff for sandwiches. Are you hungry?”

Isla accepted the offer, and while Gemma retrieved things from the kitchen, she asked about Rowan and Mav. Isla filled her in on Mav’s health.

“But you have talked to him since…?”

“Since I found out that he’s my grandfather? Yes.”

“That’s good. I swear I sensed there was something he was keeping to himself, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

Isla cocked her head. “You did not.”

Gemma put peanut butter and jelly on the table, along with a loaf of homemade bread. “I one hundred percent did. Cross my heart.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“Who was I to call out someone else’s secrecy? Karma can be a bitch.”

“Fair.”

Their exchange had been the closest to how things had been between them before all this had happened, and with that sudden lightness surrounding them, they set about preparing sandwiches.

“Buh-buh,” Josie grunted, pointing to the peanut butter.

Without missing a beat, Gemma smeared some on a slice of bread and put it in front of her.

“Do you like being a mom?” Isla asked before she could stop herself.

A grin burst forth on Gemma’s face. “I love it. I mean, it’s hard too, but—best thing I’ve ever done.”

They both watched Josie dig her thumbs into the bread, then Isla took a deep breath.

“So Jonah had died, you’d had Josie, and I assume you were working and figuring out life for the two of you. Why pretend you were someone else and sneak your way into my life?”

Gemma finished chewing, watching Isla as if gauging how honest to be. “I couldn’t believe he was gone. And at first, I, um… I thought maybe you’d had something to do with his death.”

“That he’d told me about you, and I’d?—”

“Killed him. Yes, sorry. I’m not proud of it. I blame a lack of sleep.”

“You forget I was convinced of the same until yesterday.”

Gemma’s eyes flicked up. “What happened yesterday?”

“I remembered what happened. I’ll tell you later.”

“But you?—”

“No, you first. You owe me at least that.”

Gemma seemed to deliberate, but then she gave in. “I found you online. One of your public posts on social media tagged the auction site, and I kind of just followed that trail. It wasn’t that hard since you had your somewhat unusual first name in your user ID. Next thing I knew, I’d joined the group. I just wanted to know more. What happened to him? Did you know about us? That sort of thing. But then we started talking, and you were so… broken. And I knew how you felt.

“After a few months, I realized I liked you and I wanted to come clean, but there never seemed to be a perfect moment. At the same time, Josie was getting older, and I’d see these dads dropping off and picking up at daycare. She’ll never know her dad, and I don’t have any family to speak of to offer her. I thought maybe if we became friends one day, I could ask you for something of his. Something to make him real for Josie. A photo, anything. And believe me, I hear how ludicrous this sounds now, but I know what it’s like to grow up without a dad. Mine was a petty criminal who forced my mom and me to flee our home when I was little.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well. Thanks. The point is, my dad didn’t care about me, and I guess I want better for Josie, so if that meant becoming your friend and biding my time, I had to do it. I mean, I wanted to—I liked you—but it was also for Josie. I want her to know, or at least to feel like, her dad loved her. Because I think he would have.” Her voice caught on the last word, and she averted her gaze to her hands, which were resting on the table.

Isla leaned forward and let her fingers touch Gemma’s. “He absolutely would have. I don’t doubt it.”

A tear spilled over and rolled down Gemma’s cheek, which in turn made Isla’s throat tighten. Only Josie was blissfully unaware of what was taking place before her.

“You’re being too nice,” Gemma said, pulling her hand away and wiping her cheek. “I don’t deserve it.”

Isla pushed a piece of bread closer to Josie. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“But I hurt your marriage.”

It was true that Gemma could have said no, Isla thought, but what was to say Jonah wouldn’t have found someone else if she had? Looking at the woman across from her at the table, it was obvious she was no femme fatale, no serial home wrecker, no vow breaker. She’d made a mistake by falling for the wrong guy and it had turned her life upside down. Her husband on the other hand…

“Jonah hurt our marriage. It was his choice to let you in.” As she said so, Isla’s shoulders tightened with an unexpected urge to punch, but it passed as soon as it appeared, because its target wasn’t there. It was Jonah she should be mad at, not Gemma. Yes, Gemma had lied to her, but for a reason, while Jonah had left them both behind to pick up the pieces left by his actions.

Her words had had an edge to them though, and that got Josie’s attention. The toddler startled and looked up from the messy crumbs on the table, her lower lip starting to tremble.

“Oh no, no, baby,” Gemma cooed, trying to nip whatever was coming in the bud. “Here, you want your book again?” Without any concern for stains, she placed the book in front of Josie.

“Sorry,” Isla said. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”

“You’re fine.”

While they’d been talking, evening had fallen outside, further shrinking the apartment into a cozy cave. Isla could see her reflection in the window across the living room. “Auntie Isla,” Katelyn’s kids had once called her. Was it possible Josie might one day call her that too?

The little girl shoved the book onto the floor and banged her hands on the table.

“Okay, I think you’re done, sweetie.” Gemma lifted Josie out of the chair and into her lap. “Is that better? Or you want your stuffies?”

Josie squirmed, and Gemma set her down on the floor. Ten seconds later, Josie had emptied a small hamper full of plush animals onto the floor.

“That works.” Gemma faced Isla again. “Where were we?”

Isla watched as Josie lined up her toys in a circle. That seemed advanced for eighteen months, didn’t it? “I don’t remember.”

“Do you want to talk about how we go forward?”

Isla blinked and turned back to Gemma. For the first time since she’d left home that morning, she realized she hadn’t thought of the “after.” First and foremost, what she’d do after talking to Gemma, but also after she got home, after she could put her unknowns to rest, after this whole journey came to an end.

“What’s the closest hotel to here?” she asked. “I probably shouldn’t drive home tonight.”

Gemma studied her for a moment. “You can take Josie’s room if you want. There’s a sleeper chair in there. Cheryl says it’s comfortable.”

Stay over here? Was that pushing it? “I don’t know.”

“Listen”—Gemma put her elbows on the table—“I know this is a weird situation, and you should absolutely do whatever feels best for you, but you need to know that while I lied about my name and my job, the rest was true. The deeper stuff. Even my love for owls. I’d like to think that’s what made us friends. If you want that to be over, I completely understand, and I will leave you alone, but if it was up to me, I’d like to stay in touch.”

Isla tried to picture what that would be like. On the one hand, she didn’t have many friends left from before the accident, on the other, their beginning might be too odd for it to be well advised.

“Not just for me,” Gemma added. “For Josie too. Like it or not, you’re her best connection to her dad.”

Connections…

Across the room, Josie was spoon-feeding a stuffed elephant imaginary food, oblivious to the turbulence in the universe around her.

“ Look around ,” Nana whispered.

Isla had thought she’d looked already, but considering how much she’d missed, that couldn’t be true.

She sat up straighter and let the boundaries of the room dissolve to see beyond the space she occupied, outside herself. And with that eagle-eye perspective, a bigger context materialized. The truth was that Isla wasn’t the closest link between Josie and Jonah. There was a whole set of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents on that side who would never know Josie unless Isla connected them. Wasn’t Josie an innocent who deserved to know she was wanted and loved no matter the circumstances of her birth? Then again, was Isla strong enough to move forward with the reminders of Jonah’s betrayal in her life? Her head spun.

“I need to think about it,” she said. “I want to say yes, but this is all a bit overwhelming.”

“Whatever you need. I get it. We’ll be here. But please stay the night. It’s the least I can do.”

And Isla did. As uncertain as she was whether Gemma’s and her paths were meant to merge or merely intersect, getting on the road that evening wasn’t going to help her arrive at a decision. That could only come with time.