Lost and Found Father

Chapter Three

Victoria would rather walk headfirst into a hornet’s nest than visit the maternity ward with Ryan by her side. But if it would soothe Kaley’s feelings about life and death, then she wasn’t about to refuse.

She said, “Of course I’ll go with both of you.”

“Can we bring our new bears with us when we get them?” Kaley asked.

Victoria nodded, even though the stuffed animals were part of the problem. Knowing that Ryan had planned to bring her and Kaley such sweet little gifts made her miss the boy she’d once loved. And she didn’t want to miss him. She’d banished him from her heart for a reason.

“Do either of you care if I tell my dad about this?” Kaley asked. “I want him to know what happened between you guys when I was born and how we’re going to try to make it better.”

“Tell him whatever you think is necessary.” Victoria wasn’t going to stand in the way, not if it gave Kaley comfort to talk to her father.

Ryan took the same approach and agreed, as well. But Victoria expected as much. Refusing would have been an injustice to their daughter.

Kaley relaxed. “Oh, good. I don’t like keeping secrets from my dad. Besides, I think he’s going to agree that all of us going to the hospital will be the right thing to do.” The teen softly added, “My mom would have thought so, too.”

The discussion ended on a sentimental note.

Ryan suggested a movie on cable, and he and Kaley checked listings and chose a comedy to lift their spirits. But watching a funny movie didn’t ease Victoria’s mind.

Later that night, she struggled to sleep.

She glanced at the alarm clock and wished that morning would come, because each day that passed would bring her closer to getting through this week and going home.

Finally, daylight arrived and she climbed out of bed. She opened her blinds and gazed at the country view.

After a reflective moment, she headed for the bathroom that she shared with Kaley. Her daughter’s door was still closed. Ryan’s door was at the other end of the hall and she could see that it was shut, as well. Assuming she was the first one up, she got ready.

Upon her bathroom departure, she noticed the other doors remained closed.

Alone in the quiet, she crept downstairs and went into the kitchen. She’d told Ryan that she would be cooking while she was here, but she wasn’t going to prepare anything until he and Kaley were up. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see what type of breakfast fixings were available.

The egg keeper was full, which didn’t surprise her, considering the chickens in Ryan’s yard. He had fresh milk and fresh cream, too, courtesy of his cow. As she poked around in the fridge, she noticed a package of honey-cured ham and a small block of cheddar cheese. Potatoes and bread were also handy.

Needing a caffeine boost, she made a pot of coffee and sat at the old-style Formica-topped table, which looked a lot like the one Ryan and his dad used to have in their kitchen. Was it the same table? Had Ryan taken possession of it after his dad died?

And what about Ryan’s wife? Had she lived here with him, or did he buy this place after they split? Victoria chastised herself for caring. His ex-wife shouldn’t matter. Yet the other woman, whoever she was, crowded her already-cluttered mind.

The door from the mudroom opened, and Victoria started.

Someone entered the kitchen, and she turned around, preparing to see Ryan. The steps were too heavy to be Kaley’s. Besides, what would Kaley be doing outside at this time of day? Ryan had probably been up for hours, tending to his animals, when Victoria thought he was still asleep.

Sure enough, it was him, dressed in a plain white tee, blue jeans and work boots, with his medium-length hair mussed from the morning breeze.

“The coffee smells good,” he said. “I was just coming in to make a pot.”

She shifted in her seat, feeling far too self-conscious, while he stood there, looking far too gorgeous. “I beat you to it.”

“That you did.” He walked over to pour a cup.

She watched while he added an abundance of cream, but only one spoonful of sugar. She’d doctored hers with lots of both.

He leaned against the counter. “So Kaley isn’t a morning person?”

“Sometimes she is. She was probably wiped out from yesterday.”

“The traveling and everything?”

She nodded. “I’m wiped out, too.”

“You don’t look beat. You look pretty.”

Her heart fluttered from his praise. Bad, stupid heart. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”

“I didn’t think you were. I’m just saying that the years have been good to you.” He made a flat motion with his hand, mimicking the straightness of her hair. “I like the way you style your hair now. I used to like the curls, too. The way it blew every which way.”

She made a face. “And frizzed up in the rain. A constant issue with the weather here.”

“You were always tying scarves around your head or pulling your hoodie up real tight. My favorite times were when you’d get caught in the rain without a cover-up.”

“That didn’t happen very often.”

“It was still fun.”

He smiled, and she battled the bewitchment that was Ryan.

A few minutes later, Kaley walked into the kitchen. The product of their union, Victoria thought. She’d more or less stumbled out of bed. She was still wearing her pajamas, and on her feet were novelty slippers that looked like fuzzy creatures with eyeballs. She called them her purple people eaters after an old song she thought was funny.

“Morning,” Victoria quickly said. “Now that you’re here, I’ll start breakfast. Ham and cheese omelets with hash browns on the side.”

“Yum. Okay. Thanks.” Kaley plopped down at the table and said, “Hey,” to Ryan.

“Hey, yourself.” He smiled at her outfit.

Victoria began by peeling potatoes. She loved cooking for her daughter, relishing the mommy feeling it gave her. She would have to be careful that whipping up meals for Ryan didn’t create a wifely feeling. Old dreams. Old bewitchments. This was not a family in the making.

Ryan said to Kaley, “I got the box down from the attic this morning. So anytime you’re ready, we can look through it.”

“Really? Wow. That was fast.”

No kidding, Victoria thought. Not only had he spent time outside, he’d rummaged around in the attic, too.

“We can look through it after breakfast,” Kaley said. “Then afterward, I’ll get my photo album.” She grinned. “We can have a picture party.”

Ryan grinned, too. Boyish as hell. Victoria cursed the knee-jerk reaction it gave her.

He said to their daughter, “Too bad we don’t have any cake and ice cream to go with it.”

Kaley tapped her purple people eaters together, making the eyeballs roll around. “Victoria is going to teach me to bake.”

“Yes, she told me. That’ll be cool. You two can fatten me up while you’re here.”

He was still leaning against the counter, with his lean male hips and whipcord arms. Cake and ice cream wasn’t about to fatten him up. Funny thing, too, he probably stayed in shape from his country-fresh lifestyle, hiking and biking and lifting bales of hay, whereas Victoria belonged to a trendy gym, taking scheduled classes and running on a treadmill like a hamster on a wheel.

He refilled his coffee and asked Kaley, “Do you want a cup?”

“No thanks. I’m more of a cappuccino girl.”

“With purple feet?” He chuckled. “There’s a gourmet coffee machine in the break room at the clinic. It’s one of those single-serve models with disposable brewing cups. No one ever really uses it. I can bring it in here, if that suits you.”

She shot him a winning smile. “Thanks. That’d be super.”

He left by way of the mudroom.

After he was gone, Kaley sad, “He’s nice. He’s handsome, too, for the dad type. But so is my dad. I wonder if they’re going to become friends.”

“They’re not going to know each other very well, honey. It could be a long time before they ever meet.”

“Why? Because they live so far away? They’re going to have to hang out, eventually. I want both of them to be at my college graduation.”

“You’re only just starting school in the fall. You’ve got at least a full four years to go.”

“I know, but there are other things, too. Like me getting married and having kids. If they don’t become friends, stuff like that will be awkward for everyone.”

“Let’s focus on one life-altering event at a time.” Victoria didn’t want to consider how many times in the future that she would be required to see Ryan.

He returned with the gourmet coffeemaker and set it up, brewing a single cup of flavored cappuccino for Kaley.

Victoria finished making breakfast and set the table.

“This is nice,” Ryan said, as the three them sat down.

Apparently Kaley thought so, too. She hummed while she ate, tucked cozily between her birth parents. Victoria was glad that her daughter was enjoying herself, but that still didn’t make them a family.

Ryan remarked how good the food was, and Kaley agreed, marveling over the fact that they were feasting on fresh eggs and drinking milk provided by a miniature cow.

“This feels so fifties,” Kaley said.

“That’s the era this table is from,” Ryan told her. “It belonged to my dad.”

Victoria spoke up. “I’ve been wondering if it was the same one.”

He shifted his attention to her. “You recognized it?”

She nodded. Everything about the past was resurfacing. Everything she’d worked so doggone hard to forget.

He said, “When I first bought this place, Dad moved in with me because he was recovering from a stroke. He insisted that he was going to get well and to move back out on his own. So I put all of his stuff in storage, including this table.” He ran his fingers along the Formica. “But Dad didn’t get well. About a year later, he had another stroke and died. I ended up keeping the table, maybe because it had been around for so long.”

“How long?” Kaley asked.

“Since before my mom died, and I was five when it happened.”

“How did she die?”

“In a car crash. I was too young to hear the specifics, and I never asked about it later. Soon after she died, Dad boxed up any reminders of her, and that was pretty much the end of it. She was a wife and mother who no longer existed.”

“That’s sad,” Kaley said.

Victoria thought so, too. It also explained why his childhood home had been devoid of pictures or mementos.

Kaley turned quiet. Thinking, it appeared, about Ryan’s family. Then she asked, “Did your dad ever date anyone after she was gone?”

“There were a few women, but nothing serious. Mostly he kept to himself.”

“My dad hasn’t dated, and if he has, then it hasn’t gone well. He never brings anyone home. I don’t think that’s healthy.” She turned to Victoria. “Do you?”

Victoria frowned. She rarely dated, and the boy she’d once loved was still alive—and seated right across from her, of all things. “People need time to grieve.”

“It’s been seven years.” Kaley was frowning, too. “I want my dad to have someone in his life.”

“I know, but he has to want a relationship. And contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing wrong with being alone. My parents think that I should be married by now. But we all need to do what’s right for us.”

Victoria could feel Ryan watching her. He’d obviously never been involved in a discussion like this. But he hadn’t remained alone, not the way she had. He’d been married and divorced in the time frame that she’d been determined to stay single.

Kaley said to her, “What if someone doesn’t know what’s right for them? What if my dad doesn’t know?”

Victoria replied, “You need to trust him to find his own way. He’s an amazing guy, and he’s done a wonderful job raising you. When the time comes for him to date, he’ll handle it just fine.”

“I hope so.”

They finished eating, and Victoria cleared the table, grateful to keep busy.

“Should I go get the stuff from the attic?” Ryan asked Kaley.

“Definitely.” The teenager sounded anxious to get started on his side of the family tree.

He left the room and returned with a battered box. By now, Victoria was at the sink, rinsing dishes and getting them ready for the dishwasher.

He and Kaley sat down and began rummaging through the contents of the box. Kaley had a spiral notebook and pen beside her, preparing to catalog items of interest.

Were there pictures of Ryan’s ex amid the stacks of stuff they’d dumped on the table? Or documents associated with her, such as his marriage certificate or divorce decree? Or did the box contain only things from his childhood, the hidden-away mementos his dad had stored?

Ryan said to Kaley, “This is my mom. It’s a little faded, but it’s her.”

Curiosity piqued, Victoria forgot about Ryan’s ex and focused on his mother. She dried her hands and wandered over to the table and stood behind Kaley’s chair. “Can I see, too?”

He showed it to both of them.

The woman in the Polaroid appeared to be in her late teens, probably around Kaley’s age, and was dressed in shimmery 1970s garb. Tall and thin, with long brown hair and a natural smile, she represented the free, fun sign of her times.

“Her maiden name was Margaret Dodd,” Ryan said. “But she went by Molly.”

“She was pretty,” Kaley said. “She looks happy, too.”

He studied the image. “She was from the Paiute Nation, but I never met any of her family. I asked my dad once why no one from her side ever came to see me. He said that she’d been raised by an old aunt who’d already passed on.”

“What band was your mom from?”

“I have no idea. The Paiute are divided into three groups, with quite a number of tribes among them. I assume she was registered with one of their federally recognized tribes, because when I signed the adoption papers for you, my dad said that he would provide the documents they needed for the Indian Child Welfare Act. At the time, I didn’t think about what that meant. But later I realized that he’d probably given them my mom’s registration papers and whatever else they required to prove what tribe I was connected to.”

Kaley took Molly’s picture and put it with her notebook. “I’m going to find out more about her.”

Ryan uncovered more snapshots of his mom, some of which he and his father were in. Molly was a bit fuller-figured than her earlier self, but just as pretty. Victoria felt an uncomfortable tug at her heart, seeing Ryan as a wide-eyed toddler, clinging to his dad, who was a much younger, gentler version of the man Victoria remembered.

“What was your dad’s name?” Kaley asked.

“Kevin. Kevin Gregory Nash,” he amended, reciting his father’s full name.

As the research session continued, Victoria was compelled to stay where she was, standing beside the table, allowing herself to become immersed in Ryan’s roots.

Would things have been different if his mother had lived? Would Molly have encouraged Victoria and Ryan to keep Kaley? Would she have been someone Victoria could have confided in?

Questions with dreamy answers.

Victoria wanted to believe that Molly would have been supportive, comforting her in a way that her own parents and Ryan’s dad had been incapable of. She even imagined putting her head on Molly’s shoulder.

“Look what I found,” Kaley said.

Victoria snapped out of her daydream. Apparently Kaley had reached into the box and discovered a high school annual. Victoria inspected the cover and noticed that it was from Ryan’s senior year. By then she’d already moved to California. Naturally, she was curious to see his senior photo, certain that Kaley would search for it.

As predicted, the teenager paged through the yearbook, stopping when she found her prize. “Wow. Check you out, Ryan.”

“Yeah, check out how awful I look.”

No, Victoria thought. He was young and handsome, just as she remembered, with his straight dark hair and exotic features, but she understood what he meant. He seemed lost in the picture, with a smile that didn’t embrace his eyes.

He said, “That wasn’t good a time in my life.”

“Because of what happened with me,” Kaley said.

He nodded.

The girl softly asked, “What did your dad say about you not going to the hospital?”

“He got raging mad. He thought it was terrible. And for once he’d been right to yell at me. By then I was used to it, though. He was always on edge about something, always bitching me out.”

“I’ll bet he was so grumpy all the time because he missed your mom.” Kaley offered her take on the situation. “But he still should have been nicer to you. My dad has always been nice to me.”

Victoria was incredibly thankful that their daughter had been adopted into a loving home. But that didn’t change the past. It didn’t change the ache that Ryan’s senior photo caused, either.

Kaley closed the annual and said to Victoria, “You never showed me the yearbooks you were in.”

“Because I don’t have them anymore.”

“What happened to them?”

Before Victoria could respond, Ryan interjected. “She probably got rid of them on purpose.”

Victoria sighed. “You’re right, I did. I tossed out everything associated with that era. It was easier to start over, especially after I moved.”

He made the same admission. “I didn’t keep the yearbooks you were in, either. That’s the only one I still have.”

Kaley shook her head. “You guys were so dramatic, throwing things out. But you’re both kind of sweet, too, in your own weird way.”

Ryan laughed a little, maybe because he didn’t know what else to do. Then he said to Victoria, “I always thought you were sweet.”

She shrugged, trying to appear unaffected by their emotional weirdness. “What can I say? I was a nice girl.”

“And you smelled really good.”

“That’s not the same kind of sweet.”

“I know, but you always smelled like dessert or something.”

Because she used to douse herself in vanilla-scented lotion. “I wore too much fragrance.”

“Not to me.”

Instantly, she was reminded of him burying his nose in her sugary skin. Oh, the memories that evoked: curling up in Ryan’s bed when his dad wasn’t home, slipping her greedy hands into his half-undone clothes, closing her eyes while he peeled hers off. Even now, her eyes were starting to drift closed, until she realized that Ryan was looking at her.

She told herself to get a grip. But it didn’t work. She couldn’t get her memories under control. “I think I should go now.”

He made a puzzled expression. “Go?”

“To my room. To get some work done.” She needed to escape. If she didn’t, those intimate feelings would only get stronger. “You two have fun with the rest of the family tree.”

“Okay. See you later.” Kaley handled her impeding departure with ease. But she’d already shifted her attention back to the box, unaware of Victoria’s discomfort.

Ryan noticed, though. She could feel him watching her.

She walked away, praying for the strength to make it through the rest of the week without feeling more for him than she should.

* * *

Ryan and Kaley stayed in the kitchen and finished going through everything.

Afterward, she said, “I’m going to go get my photo album now.”

“Sounds good.” He was eager to continue spending time with her. But he was disappointed that Victoria had left. It had been nice to have her nearby. But she was skittish around him. One little smell-good remark and she’d made a mad dash for the doorway.

Kaley left to get her photo album, and he stood up to stretch his legs.

She returned, and they resumed their seats. He braced himself for the newborn pictures of her, which he assumed would be on the first page.

He assumed right. As he gazed at the images and studied her cap of dark hair and scrunched-up little face, he wanted to zap back in time and hold her as close as he possibly could.

“You were beautiful,” he said. He imagined that she would have felt small and soft in his arms.

“I think I look kind of goofy.”

“No. You were beautiful. Absolutely perfect.” He lifted his gaze. “You still are.”

“Thanks.” She got a little shy, ducking her head.

He realized that without Victoria in the room with them, they didn’t know quite how to behave. He and his daughter were strangers.

She turned the next page. “This is me and my mom and dad. I think I was about three months old here.”

Her parents were an attractive couple: the mom was a summer blonde and the dad was tall and dark. Ryan envied the happy looks on their faces. But then he reminded himself that the mother was gone and the father was alone and missing her.

He said, “Victoria told me that your mom’s name was Corrine and that she was adopted, too.”

Kaley nodded. “She never knew her birth parents and always felt as if something was missing from her life.”

“Did she ever try to find them?”

“Yes, but nothing ever surfaced. She was really upset later when she discovered that she couldn’t have kids. She wanted a baby of her own more than anything. But then she decided that not being able to conceive meant that she was destined to adopt.”

Ryan glanced at the picture of Corrine and Eric, imagining them in his mind: their love for each other, their determination to become parents.

Kaley said, “When they first started the adoption proceedings, they were only interested in open adoptions. Because of the way my mom felt about her childhood, they wanted the birth mother to be involved in their baby’s life. The birth father, too, if he was around. Lots of times the dads aren’t.”

That struck a guilty chord. In the end, Ryan had been one of those dads.

Kaley continued, “After a couple of years, they were still waiting for a newborn. But they were warned that it might take a while. Then finally the adoption agency called and told them that there was a baby coming up who was part Native and had to go to a Native home, which would put them at the top of the list since my dad is registered with the Cherokee Nation. But they had to agree to a closed adoption or not take the baby.”

“So they agreed,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Yep. Later, when I was old enough to understand, Mom said that if I ever wanted to search for my birth family or learn more about my roots, she would help me.”

“But that never interested you until now?”

“I didn’t see the point. I had great parents. What did I need another family for? Even after Mom died, I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Then what changed for you? Why did you search for Victoria and me?”

“Everything seemed different after I turned eighteen. Maybe it’s the being-an-adult thing and getting ready for college. It’s like I’m someone new. Only sometimes I’m not sure who that person is.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Does that sound dumb?”

“Not at all. Sometimes I’m not sure who I am, either.” The son of deceased parents, an ex-husband, Victoria’s former boyfriend, Kaley’s confused birth father. None of his titles sounded sure or steady. “The easiest way for me to define myself is through my work.” That part of his life was sure and steady.

“Your work seems noble. Taking care of animals.”

“It makes me happy.” So did her describing his life’s passion as noble. “Victoria told me that you’re going to major in business with a minor in women’s studies. Why did you choose women’s studies as your minor? What drew you to it?”

“I think women need to be empowered, and this is my way of being part of that movement. And with me being from two cultures, I think my perspective is especially important.”