Page 47 of When I'm Gone
“I’m saying that I think ... I think Natalie had a child with someone else and didn’t tell me about it.” He punctuated each word, lingering on “someone else.” It hurt to think it, but to say it out loud? It was cathartic. The anger he’d been hiding and holding inside rose to the surface, seeping through his skin like sweat.
“Luke.” Annie grabbed his bare arm, her cold hands shocking him. “What haven’t you told me?”
“It’s possible”—he shook his head—“no, it’s probable that Natalie had a baby with Andy Garner and put it up for adoption.”
“Wait, her high school boyfriend? From Pentwater?” Annie’s nails dug into his skin. “Why would you think that?”
“Will found this envelope in some of her old stuff. It was from an adoption agency in Chicago and postmarked fourteen years ago. Will was having a hard time at school one day and told Ms. Mason ... Felicity ... that the envelope was proof he was adopted. So, to calm Will down, I went to visit one of the agency’s maternity houses in Kalamazoo.”
“And they actually told you about Andy and Natalie? I thought that was illegal.”
“They didn’t tell me anything,” Luke confirmed, wondering why he was telling her so much, “but there was a picture of Andy and Natalie there. Another one in the brochure they gave me.”
Annie stood in silence for a moment, playing with the cord to her headphones. “First, I think you should take a paternity test. That should take care of Will’s concerns.”
“We already took a test,” Luke interjected, “after that trip. Will’s imagination was coming up with some wild scenarios. I thought it was the simplest way to get proof.”
“Perfect. So, what did it say?” Annie asked, tossing her headphones over her shoulder. Luke thought she answered with more curiosity than someone so sure of Natalie’s fidelity should.
“Still waiting on results, but I’m not worried about who Will’s dad is. I’m more worried about ...” Luke shrugged, hoping Annie would pick up on the hint so he wouldn’t have to explain his suspicions again.
“And that brings me to my second thought.” Annie slid her hands down Luke’s forearms, sending goose bumps across his skin. Holding both of his hands in hers, she looked him square in the eyes. “Weare going to Pentwater—to figure out this so-called love child Natalie had with Andy Garner.”
“No, I couldn’t,” he sputtered. “I’ve already taken off so much work, and besides, I’m not very good at confrontations.”
“We can’t leave today. We need time to plan,” she said, swinging his arms back and forth. “Brian and I go to DC the twenty-eighth for some house hunting, but I come home before his final interview. That means I’ll be here alone for the Fourth of July weekend. Is Andy still a realtor?”
“Yeah, took over his dad’s business.”
“Okay, I’ll make an appointment to look at houses with him in Pentwater. We’ll drive out there, and when he shows up for our appointment, we’ll get the whole story, together.”
Luke considered the plan, staring past Annie at the pinkish-yellow sunbeams filling the sky, the sun rising slowly from behind the house across the street. Her plan could work, but there was only one flaw.
“I might not want to know.” He wanted to know, and he also didn’t want to know. Imagining Andy confirming that he and Natalie had a child together out there somewhere made Luke want to go back to bed and hide under his covers.
“Take a few days to consider it. I think talking to Andy is what you need. There has to be a less complicated explanation forallof this.”
Luke sighed and nodded, not sure being in the same town—much less the same room—as Andy would be good for anyone. “I’ll be able to think a lot clearer when Terry is gone.” He let go of Annie and checked his pockets for his phone before remembering he was still in his boxers. Desperate, he tapped the screen on the phone strapped to Annie’s arm. Six thirty already. “She’s going to be here in two hours. I need to get breakfast made, cleaned up, and maybe some clothes on Clayton before she gets here. I better go.”
“Sounds terrifying.” Annie readjusted her rogue bangs in a large tan clip and tightened her stubby ponytail. “And I better get back to my run.”
“Okay,” Luke said, folding his arms again, this time from a sudden chill. “I’m sorry, again, for interrupting. I’ll call you later this week about Pentwater.”
“Or you can always text me,” Annie added, raising her eyebrows and pushing her sporty pink earbuds back in. Luke nodded—texting would be a far easier way to turn down Annie’s offer. Turning back for one quick wave, she launched off the driveway and headed down the nearly sunny street. She bounced from one foot to the other in one fluid motion, like it came to her as naturally as walking. He’d never been interested in running before—he’d rather spend his workouts with some dumbbells or a punching bag—but watching Annie run made it look almost enjoyable.
When Annie turned at the end of the street, Luke headed back into the house through the open front door. Sheets of notebook paper littered the entry, crinkling under the ball of his foot. Luke shut the door with his elbow and then leaned over to pick up the pages off the floor, the squeaky voices of cartoon characters echoing through the entry. He tried not to read any of the words scrawled across the papers. Lifting his foot, he grabbed the last remaining page, this one folded in half. Definitely not Natalie’s.
Luke unfolded the page. The stiff, fancy card stock felt strange after spending so much time reading off cheap lined paper. On the top of the page was Annie’s name, written neatly in black lettering, and below it, one sentence:
You were right.
CHAPTER 18
“Who are you texting? Is it Natalie’s friend again? What’s her name?” Terry asked for the fourth time since Luke parked the car in the airport parking lot. The week with his mother-in-law was mercifully over, and the only reason he felt any sort of sadness was because the kids would be leaving with her.
“Annie. Her name is Annie,” Luke reminded Terry for the tenth time since they had dinner with Annie two nights ago. Terry knew Annie’s name—she’d seen her every day for weeks before Natalie died—but for some reason she’d been “forgetting” it recently. Undoubtedly some form of passive aggression aimed directly at Luke.
“Ah, yes, Annie.” She said her name like she was holding out a stinky sock. “Why doesn’t that lovely Jessie girl take care of Clayton full-time? I really think he needs more consistency, and that Jessie is impressive. Have you ever heard her sing? She was playing that karaoke video game with the kids in the basement. She can’t carry a tune, but if talent was measured by spirit, she’d be starring on Broadway.” Terry stopped in front of the sliding doors as if she doubted they’d open. When they slid apart, she waved the children through so she was standing next to his side when they entered the busy terminal. “If it’s about money, I’m willing to pitch in.”
