“In the playroom, still. I made him wash the dishes.” She paused. “Is Aunt Brooke gone?”
Natalie frowned, feeling a fresh round of tears gathering behind her eyes. “She is,” she told Hailey in a quiet voice. Maybe for good, she thought as she sat in her kitchen holding her daughter, wishing she knew how to fix what had gone wrong—hoping that she hadn’t found her sister only to lose her all over again.
? ? ?
“It’s my fault,” Kyle said when he got home that night and heard the details of the fight Natalie and Brooke had had. “Should I go talk with her? Explain that you had nothing to do with it?”
Natalie could have blamed him for what happened—for running the report in the first place—but hearing the ragged edge in her husband’s voice, she knew just how sorry he was. And it was Natalie who had forgotten that the file was on the kitchen counter—she’d meant to shred it but kept getting distracted by the kids and work—so the fact that Brooke had stumbled across it was just as much Natalie’s fault as it was Kyle’s. “I don’t think so,” she said. “?’But thanks for offering.”
“Are you sure?” he said. “Maybe it would help.”
“I wish it could,” Natalie said. She’d sent Brooke a text before Kyle had come home from work, in which she apologized again, and asked her sister for another chance. She didn’t receive a reply.
A month passed without a word from Brooke. The plumber finally arrived—four weeks after he’d promised he would. He completed his task in a couple of days, and then Alex and his crew got back to work, managing to finish the job a week before Christmas. The holiday was quiet, and Natalie couldn’t help but wish that Brooke had been there, too. Natalie had yet to contact her birth mother. It was strange, how deeply she’d longed to connect with the woman, but now that she knew where she was, Natalie was hesitant to reach out. Terrified, in fact.
Kyle’s murder case finally closed after the first of the year—his client was found not guilty—and after that, he made it a point to work from home as much as he could, taking the kids to the trampoline park or swimming on the weekends to give Natalie enough time to do her job without interruption. Natalie had both Logan and Ruby over to her house for a playdate, and invited Katie out for a cup of coffee when she came to pick her son up.
Now, the second week of January, Natalie glanced at her watch and wondered when her mother, who had offered to pick up the kids so Natalie could work, would arrive. A few minutes later, Hailey came bursting through the front door, Henry trailing behind.
“Hi, Mom!” she said as she raced inside. “Gramma said to tell you that she didn’t come in because she and Grampa have to go to a fancy dinner tonight and she has to get ready.”
“Okay,” Natalie said, as Henry launched himself against her legs, causing her to stagger backward. “Careful there, buddy. You’re so strong, you almost knocked me over!” She reached down and ruffled his soft hair. He giggled, and let her go, dropping his bag on the floor.
“Hang that up, please,” Natalie said automatically, watching as both of her kids put their jackets and backpacks on the hooks by the front door. “How was your day?” she asked as they walked together toward the kitchen.
“Good,” Hailey said. “But Chase said my hair looks like Medusa. Like snakes!” She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s such a butt.”
“Such a butt! Such a butt!” Henry chanted.
Natalie had to work hard to restrain herself from laughing. “Hailey, you know it’s not okay to call people names.”
“But he called me Medusa!” her daughter protested. “It’s not fair!”
“I know,” Natalie said. “But we can’t control how other people act. We can only control ourselves. I know it’s hard, but the best thing to do is treat Chase how you want to be treated. If you don’t react to his teasing you, eventually he’ll stop.”
Hailey sighed. “I don’t think so. He’s just not normal.”
Again, Natalie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her amusement in check. “Want to help me make the cookies for the bake sale?” she asked. She’d volunteered to provide eight dozen chocolate chip cookies for the PTA fund-raiser at Hailey’s school, which would happen the next day.
“I want to help, too!” Henry said.
“You can’t,” Hailey informed him in a haughty voice. “It’s not for your school.”
“Sure he can,” Natalie said. “We have to make a lot, so there’s plenty for both of you to do. Why don’t you both wash your hands while I get the ingredients out?”