15. Chapter 15
“I ’m sorry I’m late,” Nelie called out, hanging her coat on the pegs by the side door entry. Rosemarie Hart had told her long ago that family and friends were to use the side door, knock, and walk right in.
Nelie had been coming the Hart’s stately home since she was a little girl.
First, with her mother—Stella and Rosemarie were best friends—and now with Gus when he needed help with Mrs. Hart’s vast gardens.
Nelie loved the old house. It sat on an oversized lot with a glimpse of downtown and the river.
Her favorite part was the large kitchen and its big oak table near the window that overlooked the avenue and Mrs. Hart’s flower gardens.
Nelie stopped at the threshold. She’d thought it would be just her and Mrs. Hart, but it was a full table.
Jackson and his sister, Priscilla, sat next to each other.
Nelie had met her a few times, and she’d joined the Swans at brunch in early January.
Pris was smart and beautiful. Their mother, Suzanne, Mrs. Hart’s daughter, sat across from them.
Nelie had heard through the grapevine that she’d come from Chicago as soon as Nate was born, leaving her husband, Dr. Franklin Wyatt, in Chicago.
He was a surgeon, and Nelie didn’t think he’d be able to fly off as easily as Suzanne had.
It made sense that Jackson’s in-town family was here, but why was her own dad?
Maybe he’s here to support Rosemarie? Since Stella’s passing, the two of them were almost inseparable. Nelie ignored the grapevine’s rumor that they were sweet on each other. If her dad was happy, she didn’t care. Gus’s happiness was all she’d ever wanted.
“Oh, wow! Full house,” Nelie said, sitting next to her dad.
“And me!” Nelie’s head whipped toward the sound. A laptop sat on the nearby counter and Emily’s face filled the screen. She looked tired and worried, just like Jackson did.
“Coffee?” Mrs. Hart held the pot above a cup and Nelie smiled and nodded.
“Help yourself to some cookies, too.” She was full, but she couldn’t say no to Mrs. Hart’s oatmeal, peanut butter, chocolate chip cookies, her and Gus’s favorite.
Besides, she’d left her cookie with Chet.
Nelie handed one to Gus, but he shook his head.
“No cookie and no coffee? Are you ill?” she teased.
“I’m fine, Nelie-girl. Don’t worry about me.
” He patted her hand, and she gave him the side-eye.
Why is he acting weird? The table was quiet as Nelie broke her cookie into smaller pieces, waiting for someone to say something.
The three older people stared and nodded their heads toward each other as if saying you go first .
Pris and Jackson looked as confused as Nelie felt.
Jackson took a hearty bite of his cookie. Gus fiddled with his empty coffee mug.
“Umm, how’s Nate?” Nelie asked Jackson, breaking the silence. He looked like a desperate man with no solutions.
“Okay, for now, but we haven’t found a match,” he said.
“Do you need to use the Galley? I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“Would you?” Emily asked.
“Of course,” Nelie said, turning toward the laptop behind her.
“It’s a long shot, but—”
“We don’t need the Galley, not yet,” Mrs. Hart said, interrupting Emily.
“I don’t want to wait. I know it’s a long shot, but we need to check the community,” Jackson said. “Can we do Saturday?” He looked at Nelie hopefully. Nelie wished he’d chosen a slow day, like Tuesday, but she couldn’t say no.
“Sure, whenever. Just let me—”
“Anneliese, you need to be tested,” Suzanne blurted, startling Nelie.
Annaliese was her legal name, but no one used it, not even Stella or Gus when they’d reprimanded her.
Gus squeezed her hand, and she heard him expel a shaky breath.
What the frigid air is going on? Everyone looked at Suzanne.
Jackson set down his cup, cocking his brow and looking at Pris as if asking, Is mom losing it ? Pris looked confused.
“What?” Nelie asked, hoping whatever came out of Suzanne’s mouth made sense this time.
“Annel”—Suzanne closed her eyes and took a deep breath—“Nelie, you are Nathan’s biological aunt, and you need to be tested,” she said slowly and calmly, as if she’d chosen her words carefully. Nelie gave her a small smile. Oh, the poor woman.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wyatt, but you’re confused. My parents were from Grand Forks. My mother was Stella’s great-niece.”
“No, Nelie, dear. Your mother is from here,” Mrs. Hart said, grabbing Nelie’s other hand. “Suzanne is your birth mother.” No, no, no, no, no.
“No. My parents died when I was a baby. My great-aunt and uncle, Stella and Gus, took me in. You know that.” Nelie yanked her hand from Mrs. Hart’s, upsetting the older woman. How can they say this? Gus kept a firm grip on her other hand, with his thumb rubbing back and forth.
Suzanne cleared her throat, and Nelie looked at her.
She looked pale as she fidgeted with the diamond encrusted ring on her finger, staring vacantly at the plate of cookies.
“I got pregnant the year I studied in London. Your father was from Norway. We were young. He had obligations, and I wanted to come home. Gus and Stella adopted you. And I watched you grow up from a distance.” Her words were void of any emotion.
Just facts. Mrs. Hart patted Suzanne’s hand, as if everything would be okay now that she’d told her story.
Nelie’s body shook, and it felt like she was floating near the ceiling, watching all this craziness unfold below her. It wasn’t her sitting at the oak table, but someone who looked like her. Nelie’s life wasn’t imploding, but her doppelganger’s life was.
Pris wrapped a blanket around her, mumbling something about shock. Nelie clutched it tight against her.
“No, no”—Nelie shook her head violently—“that’s wrong. Dad, tell them they’re wrong,” Nelie croaked, looking at him. Gus’s water-filled eyes stared back at her.
“I wish I could, sunshine.” He hung his head, sounding as if he’d lost everything.
“You lied? All of you lied?” She forced the question through her tight throat and glared at everyone.
Pris held up her hands. “This is news to me.”
“And me,” Jackson said, glaring at his mom. Emily murmured an agreement.
“But not to the rest of you! My whole life has been a lie!” Nelie screeched.
“No, it hasn’t, Nelie. let us explain,” Mrs. Hart— Grandma? —said, as if she was talking to someone standing on a ledge ready to jump. Nelie knew she wouldn’t have a reasonable explanation for that they’d done.
“That I wasn’t a burden? That Stella and Gus didn’t take me in because there was no other family available?” Nelie cried.
Gus slammed his hand on the table, and everyone jumped.
“We didn’t take you in. We adopted you. You are our daughter and you’ve never, not once in your life, been a burden to us.
You are our sunshine, and Suzanne agreeing to the adoption, giving you to us, was the greatest gift we ever got.
” Tears ran down his face, but he looked like he’d fight anyone who disagreed with him.
“But why? Why lie?” Nelie asked quietly, looking at the table. She’d lost her energy to fight their crazy story.
“Stella and Gus were in their forties when they adopted you. Stella was sensitive about their ages and how people might criticize them, so she created a backstory for you,” Mrs. Hart said.
“And like a fool, I went along with her cockamamie scheme.” Gus shook his head. Nelie didn’t know if he was more upset at Stella or himself.
“You never could say no to her.” Nelie gripped the blanket tight around her as the truth of her origin story sank in.
She’d stopped shivering, but she was still cold.
The clock above the door tick-tocked , and Nelie counted her breaths to it.
In two-three-four. Out two-three-four . After a few rounds, Jackson’s snort broke the silence.
“This isn’t funny, Jackson,” Mrs. Hart scolded.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “No, Gram, it’s not.
It’s all kinds of wrong, but I finally know why my dad was so insistent I not date or fool around ”—he used air quotes—“with any of the Haven girls. I thought he was being a snob. Didn’t realize he was worried I’d kiss my sister. ” He and Nelie both grimaced.
I have blood relatives , Nelie realized. A brother and a sister, and a nephew. Emily was her sister-in-law. She didn’t know what to make of Suzanne and Mrs. Hart. Mother and Grandmother didn’t feel right. Maybe when she calmed down, it would.
But did it matter? Did they want her in their lives as a family member? Did she want them in hers? If not for baby Nathan, would she have ever learned the truth? Was she just a means to an end to help Nathan?
“I don’t look like any of you,” Nelie said, her voice wavering in a last-ditch effort to argue away the truth. The Wyatts had auburn hair and green-ish or brown eyes.
“You look like your father,” Suzanne said. Jeez, I’d forgotten about him. Nelie felt sick. She was in over her head. “He’s not as blond as he once was, but his eyes are the same piercing sky-blue as yours.”
“You’re in contact with him?” Pris asked. “Does Dad know?”
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Suzanne squirmed in her chair. Pris pretended to zip her lips. Nelie didn’t think Jackson would tell his father. From what Emily had said, theirs was a strained relationship.
“You might not look alike, but you’ve all got the freaky eyebrow lift,” Gus said, as if they belonged in a circus.
“You mean this?” Mrs. Hart sounded amused as she raised one eyebrow, followed by Suzanne, Pris, and Jackson. They looked expectantly at Nelie. She complied and a part of her died.
Who am I? Nelie bit the inside of her cheek to make sure this wasn’t a nightmare, or that she hadn’t slipped on the steps and bumped her head.
Except for where her inner cheek throbbed, she was numb.
No matter how many explanations her brain and heart threw at her, she knew in her bones they were telling the truth.
Mrs. Hart poured fresh coffee for everyone. Now that they’d dropped their bomb, the older adults drank and nibbled on cookies, keeping an eye on her, waiting for another explosion. Jackson snatched another cookie.
“You’re eating?” Emily shrieked. Nelie didn’t know who was more shocked. Emily, by her husband’s behavior, or the people around the table who’d forgotten she was virtually there.
“Celebrating,” he said around his cookie. “We’ve got another potential donor for Nate.” Nate, the reason they told me .
Pris’s phone vibrated on the table. “Duty calls.” She stood and patted her mom on the shoulder and gave Mrs. Hart a hug.
Nelie noticed the difference and wondered about the dynamics in the Wyatt household.
Pris and Jackson seemed distant with their mom, and Nelie knew Emily wasn’t a fan of her in-laws, especially her father-in-law.
Nelie didn’t have the brainpower to figure out the familial potholes she might step into. Not now. Now she needed to escape. She shoved back from the table. “Pris, if I follow you, can you show me where I go for testing? Or do I need to go somewhere else? Like Children’s Hospital in Saint Paul?”
Nelie wiped her hands on her jeans. She didn’t recognize her world anymore, but even through the rubble and smoke of the bomb they’d dropped on her, she knew she needed to be tested.
She was Nate’s last realistic chance at survival. And his survival mattered most. It’s the reason they’d sacrificed the lies they’d raised her on. Built her life on. They’d killed who she thought she was for the chance to save him.
Pris took her hand. “I’ll drop you off at the lab and order the test.”
“To make sure I don’t escape?” Nelie joked, but it fell flat.
“No, to make sure you’re all right. You’ve had a terrible shock.” Pris’s warm voice felt like a hug.
“I’ll drive,” Jackson said behind them.
“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine,” Nelie said.
“You’re still clutching the blanket.”
“Oh.” Nelie loosened her fingers and set the blanket on the bench by the door.
“Besides, I’m too mad to go back in there and play nice with them, and if I go home, Em will be mad I abandoned you.
” He sounded upset. Nelie didn’t know if he was upset on her behalf or his, because the truth bomb had also rocked their world.
Were Jackson and Pris as upset by this as she was?
Pris had acted concerned for Nelie’s welfare by bringing her the blanket and escorting her to the lab, but maybe that was her medical training kicking in?
“Staying with you is my only hope for survival. After all, you wear a cape”—he gestured to the blanket—“and have an origin story.” Jackson deadpanned.
Nelie didn’t know if he was trying to lighten the mood or humor her, a potential donor to save his son’s life.
Her nephew. A nephew she hadn’t known about.
Because they’d all lied to her. For her whole life. This is so messed up.
“Fine,” Nelie said. “But no talking, unless it’s inane talk like the weather or sports.”
“Can I scream?” Jackson asked, opening the side door for her and Pris.
“Only if I can join you.” She needed to keep it together until she was safely home, after the Galley closed, because of course she had to work tonight. If she made it through the shift without yelling at anyone or sobbing in the walk-in cooler, it would be a miracle.