Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Three days had passed since the run-in with Noah’s ex in the bathroom.
Dahlia felt as if she was floating on air.
Not only was it Noah’s twenty-ninth birthday—closing the gap between their ages just a bit—but he also slept over every night, closing the gap between them in bed.
Aside from a few trips to the island, the two of them were joined at the hip—and other places too.
It was like the universe was telling her to trust in things again.
Things, meaning Noah. Their relationship was moving fast, but she liked the feeling of being swept away.
It meant she was still very much alive inside.
Dahlia sat motionless at the kitchen table.
She scanned the paperwork for the gallery, feeling her armpits sweat.
Did she want to do this? Once she did, there was no turning back.
She liked Noah; that was clear. But making another life decision around a man wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she left her old life behind in Greenwich.
Dahlia bounced her foot under the table, feeling a tightening in her chest. She thought about all the years she had been home with Daisy and how long her career had been at a standstill.
Being her mom, there were no regrets, but she’d also known standing on her own two feet was her only chance to leave Spence.
She’d worked hard to move up at MoMA, placating both her male and female bosses.
All for the sake of her soul and independence.
She sipped her coffee and stared at the screen.
She let out a huff and leaned back in the chair.
Dahlia tried to imagine what it would be like if she were in Charleston and he were in New York.
Would they go back and forth on weekends?
Would he even want that? They didn’t even have a label.
How could she decide when she didn’t know what they were?
Her mind played ping-pong. What if things changed after the summer?
And then there was the matter of Daisy. A knot formed in her stomach.
Tomorrow, she would tell him. He trusted her, and she was not going to break that trust. She just hoped he’d understand why she had waited so long to tell him.
Why did she wait so long? She didn’t even know anymore. It seemed so insignificant now.
The new position and Daisy could wait one more day. Dahlia closed her laptop with an easy assurance that it was the right thing. As if on cue, her phone buzzed. It was Noah. A smile graced her lips, unraveling the knot in her stomach and easing into light flutters.
I can’t stop thinking about poker last night. you were
Heat engulfed her body, and she eagerly sat forward. She was glad she’d suggested playing strip poker and crossing off bucket list number nine. It was definitely the hottest night of her life.
You too . She was really doing this. Dahlia wouldn’t let fear of sex emojis hold her back any longer.
Did you get a sick satisfaction watching me strip for you? Noah asked.
If I say yes, does that make me bad? she typed.
Three bubbles. It doesn’t make you bad. It makes you naughty.
Dahlia paused, feeling a rush of desire flood her veins. She licked her lip and exhaled.
This isn’t over. I’ll be back for a rematch later. This time, I’ll watch you peel off every single layer .
She played with the ends of her hair, thinking of what to write next. Well, it is your birthday tomorrow. I suppose I could go easy on you.
No free passes. We’ll play fair and square.
If you insist.
He had no idea she was planning a pre-birthday celebration for just the two of them.
They would hit a few vineyards, then head to the brewery for some music.
Then, later, they would play poker. Her birthday suit would be his birthday present.
Just thinking about what she planned made her giddy.
Planning something because it was demanded was different from planning something because you couldn’t imagine not celebrating such an amazing human.
Dahlia opened the window and breathed in the morning air.
It smelled of dewy flowers dried by the sun.
It felt familiar yet haunting. All those memories, tastes, and smells tied up in a feeling that was no longer real.
Dahlia didn’t know what was fact or fiction anymore.
But she knew she had to follow the breadcrumb trail.
The alternative was being stuck in limbo, which she knew didn’t suit her well-being.
As much as she didn’t like the feeling that she was dishonoring her pop, she needed to dig deeper and get to the bottom of this so she could move on.
The house still felt tainted, but Dahlia tried to focus on Lil and her memory.
It was the only way she could compartmentalize her past.
She gazed at the cardinal at Lil’s bird feeder, hearing her phone ding on the counter.
Hi, Dahlia, it’s Penny. We met the other night at the club. I have some information. Are you free to chat?
Dahlia looked at the message as if it were a match about to light her life on fire. She swallowed the boulder lodged in her throat. This was the pivotal moment; she would either say yes and open that door to whatever was behind it or leave it closed forever.
She paced the checkered linoleum squares, feeling her muscles stiffen.
Back and forth she went, making herself dizzy.
Then she caught a glimpse of her mother’s tassel that hung on the cabinet knob.
Her eyes glossed over, and she knew, if nothing else, she needed to do it for her.
She looked up as if heaven could hear her.
“Please, please, don’t be mad at me, Pop.
” Then, without another thought, she reached for her phone.
Sure, I’m free now. Dahlia waited with bated breath.
Within seconds, the phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Dahlia, it’s Penny. It was so great to meet you the other night. Your story was so intriguing that I got right to work.”
“Thank you for that, Penny. Were you able to find anything?” Dahlia rubbed the back of her neck.
“Are you sitting down?”
“Umm, no, but I can.” All she could think was that she was too late. That he may have passed away. Dahlia lowered herself into the kitchen chair. “Okay.”
“So we cross-referenced everyone in the movie The Best Man with the letter G, and there was nothing.”
“Oh …” Her heart sank, and her eyes tingled. Why was she having this kind of reaction? This was a good thing. The past would stay buried. “Well, thank you. I mean, you can only do so much, right?”
“But I found someone who had a name change in 1962. His name was Gene Obermann.”
“Gene Obermann,” Dahlia repeated. Goosebumps ran up her arms. In the hallows of her soul, she knew it was him. Dahlia wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “Is he still alive?” she asked.
“Very much,” Penny said with excitement.
“That’s … wonderful,” she said with tender enthusiasm. She wanted to find him more than she realized. “Where does he live? Do you know?”
“California. Dahlia, if this is all correct, then your biological grandfather is … are you ready for this?”
“I think so.” What was he, an actor turned mass murderer?
“Charles Halston.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. If she wasn’t already sitting, she would have fallen over. “Wait, what? The Charles Halston, the mega movie star? The one who was friends with Sinatra and Eastwood all those years?”
“Yes, that’s him. I have his email. It might be tough to reach him; be warned. His security isn’t just going to let anyone get through the iron-clad gate, but it’s worth a shot. Do you have a pen?”
“Ah, yeah.” Dahlia reached over the counter, her mouth still hanging open. “Go ahead.”
“Okay, it’s ch@.”
Chills ran up Dahlia’s spine as she wrote it down. LG had to stand for Lizzie and Gene. It would be too much of a coincidence otherwise. Dahlia covered her mouth in shock. She wondered if Gene had known Lizzie was married. And happily at that.
“Listen, I’m a romantic at heart. Old letters and long-lost grandfathers are my jam. If I can help with anything else, please let me know.”
“I will. Thank you, Penny.” She hoped she could trust her. Since Noah trusted her, that was confirmation enough.
Dahlia sat back in her chair, her body trembling excessively. Charles Halston could be her biological grandfather. Was that why his biography was on the bookshelf at Lil’s? Did Lil know, or was it a secret Gran kept to herself?
Then suddenly, her stomach dropped. She knew nothing about this man.
What if he was a horrible human? What if he didn’t like dogs?
What if he was mean to kids? And arrogant because he had people fawning over him all these years?
What if he wanted no part of her? Uncertain of her next move, she sat in Lil’s kitchen with this news, her mind racing with possibilities.
Many hours later, after a swim and a few unanswered calls to Noah, she summoned the courage.
She was now at Lil’s desk in the green library her pop painted, with Harry at her feet.
Dahlia sat there stalling with her laptop open.
The French doors were opened to the garden, and it was so quiet she could hear the bees buzzing around her lavender.
The irony wasn’t lost on her that the room was her pop’s long before it was Lil’s.
She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be hurt by her curiosity.
If he’d be upset by her longing to connect with a stranger who most likely shared her DNA.
And would he think she was a traitor? Of all the qualities Dahlia had, her loyalty ranked above all else.
The mere thought of this potential betrayal churned her stomach.
Googling him was the mature first step. Dahlia typed Charles Halston into the search bar.
It read American Actor (born 1936). Below, there were images, so she clicked.
They spanned decades, and some were in black-and-white.
There was one of him with salt and pepper hair, holding two Oscars, and in the next, he was a young man standing by a river in a pea coat.
“He was handsome, Harry,” Dahlia said wistfully.
She almost followed it with, I can see why Gran fancied him, but she stopped herself.
She wasn’t going to give Gran any grace for this.
Dahlia glanced around the moody room in thought and remembered his biography was on the shelves.
Quickly, she scanned the bookcase filled with old books.
The book’s black cover was right at eye level, and she noticed now how the spine was worn on both sides as if someone’s fingers had pulled it down regularly.
Dahlia ran her index finger down the tattered corner with an unfocused gaze.
She pulled it down and held the worn book in her palms. The more facts she had, the better.
Plus, there was still a slight chance it was just a coincidence and they had the wrong guy.
She opened it and saw a heart drawn in the top right corner of the page.
This act of love should have made her heart melt, but it didn’t; it made her angrier that her gran left clues to where her pop could find them in his office, no less.
She shook her head with a watery gaze. “She didn’t deserve you, Pop. ”
Dahlia thumbed through the 1991 publication highlighting his career.
A waft of musty vanilla filled her nostrils.
She pored over the pages, hoping to discover clues in the photographs.
There was a color photo from 1962 of him in a cowboy hat, his dark, wavy hair sticking out the bottom.
Her mom had the same eyes and smile. The caption read, Set of Bonanza, 1962.
Dahlia floated her fingers over the photo, feeling her tears pool in the corners of her eyes.
The idea that she may have a blood relative out there who she’d never known existed and who was still alive changed things.
If this was correct, then she might belong somewhere after all if she could get past the affair.
But did he want to be found? That was still the question on her mind.
It was now or never. She blew out a cleansing breath, trying to ready herself for one of the boldest moments of her life. She set the book next to her computer and typed.
To: ch@
From: dnewberry@
Subject: You May Have Known My Grandmother Lizzie
Dear Mr. Halston,
Dahlia’s pulse raced as she wondered what to write next.
My apologies for emailing you out of the blue, but I think you may have known my grandmother, Lizzie Laurent.
She may also have gone by Prescott back in 1955.
I’ve found some letters in her house on Long Island, and I have reason to believe we may be related.
If you would like to chat, you can call me at 631-555-5555.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Warmly,
Dahlia Newberry
Dahlia reread it, wondering if she should be more specific.
She had zero clue what to say to a Hollywood legend who may also be her grandfather.
She could use a sounding board right about now.
She looked at her phone—no messages. Where was Noah?
It wasn’t like him not to check in. Dahlia was tempted to call Kara, but they had already spoken in the morning, and she was off to the beach.
It seemed it was just her and Harry for the time being.
She read it one last time and hit send, feeling like she had just descended from the top of a terrifying roller coaster. It was out of her hands now. The ball was in his court; whatever happened from here was meant to be.