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I was on my lunch break at work when my cell phone rang. Hurriedly chewing my bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I saw that I didn’t recognize the number on the screen. I was about to ignore it, but just before it went to voice mail, I answered.
“Is this Stella?” a man’s voice asked.
“Yes.” I was sitting on a park bench outside the office building where I currently worked as a temp doing data entry. The spring day held a little chill in the breeze, but the sun was warm. “Who’s this?”
“This is Julian,” the man said. His voice was quiet, almost soothing. When I didn’t speak, he went on. “I’m your grandfather.”
The breeze grew stronger and whipped my long auburn hair against my face. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn’t find the words.
Of course I knew my grandfather’s name was Julian. We shared the same last name. But I had never met the man, not once in my nineteen years.
What felt like a million questions raced through my mind. Finally I managed to ask one. “How did you get my number?”
“I have my sources,” he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice, but when he spoke again, his amusement had vanished. “I’ve wanted to call you for a long time, Stella. I wanted to have a relationship with you, but both your mother and father forbade me from doing so.”
I frowned in confusion. I could understand my mother insisting on such a thing, but why would my father do so? He was also completely absent from my life and always had been. What did he care if my grandfather tried to get to know me?
“So why are you calling me now?” I asked, drawing out the words to convey my bewilderment at this conversation. I felt surprise bordering on shock to receive a call from a man claiming to be my grandfather, but apprehension snaked its way up my spine.
“Your father’s dead,” he replied. His voice wasn’t soft or comforting. No, he delivered this news in a matter-of-fact manner, betraying no emotion he might have felt over the death of his son. “Car accident three weeks ago. There was no funeral. I have his ashes if you want them.”
I gripped the phone, trying to draw in a breath. Air seemed to be trapped in my lungs. Though I knew nothing about the man who had gotten my mother pregnant when they were both my age, just nineteen, I still felt my eyes sting with tears. “I don’t,” I finally managed to say.
“I understand,” Julian said softly. “He wasn’t any kind of a father to you. I tried to keep in touch with him over the years, but he wanted nothing to do with me. I wish things had been different, for all of us, Stella.”
I closed my eyes and took several deep, steadying breaths. “I appreciate you calling and letting me know.”
“That’s not the only reason I called. You’re a young woman now, able to make your own choices. Your mother kept you away from me for all these years, and I tried to respect her wishes, but my son’s death is a reminder that life is too short for these kinds of senseless estrangements. Family is important, and I would love to have the chance to meet you.”
I looked around at passersby as if they could somehow help me, tell me what to say in a situation like this. “I don’t know anything about you. You never called, never visited…”
“I tried. I really did try. I sent money to make sure your mother had enough to provide for you, but she threatened to take you and disappear if I contacted you.”
My eyes widened, and I felt a growing fury pounding at my temples. My mother never could hold down a steady job; she claimed we were so poor she needed me to work in order to pay the bills. Yet she always seemed to have enough to buy herself nice clothes and flashy jewelry.
Now I understood everything.
“She never told me any of this.” My voice was small and trembling, but I wanted to scream.
“I sent her a check every month,” Julian said. “I hoped you would never want for anything.”
I couldn’t hold back my bitter laugh. “Oh, I wanted for lots of things.”
“Stella, I’m so sorry.” His words were like a soothing caress, and I closed my eyes, aching to hear more. “I’d like to give you my address. I live just a few hours away; you’re welcome to come here any time. Your cousin Naomi lives here as well. She’s eager to meet you.”
I didn’t even know I had a cousin. My mother had once mentioned that my father had an older brother. She also claimed that my father’s family was wealthy, and that my grandfather looked down on her, thinking she wasn’t good enough.
I should have known by now to question everything my mother ever told me.
“Let me grab a pen.” I rummaged through my purse until I found one, and I wrote down Julian’s address on my brown paper lunch bag.
“We’re way out in the country, and the house can be a little difficult to find. A map would come in handy,” he suggested.
“I have GPS,” I said.
My grandfather chuckled. “Cell reception out here is spotty at best, so don’t put all your trust in the GPS.”
“I’ll look it up online.” Glancing toward the office güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri building, I saw a co-worker standing just outside the door, pointing vehemently at her watch. I was late getting back to work. “I’m sorry, I have to go. But I do want to meet you, and Naomi.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” he said. “Remember you are always welcome here, Stella.”
I said goodbye in a shaky voice, and my legs were just as shaky when I stood. I tossed the rest of my sandwich in a nearby trash can, but I clutched the paper bag with my grandfather’s address to my chest as I headed toward the office.
“You are fifteen minutes late!” my coworker, whose name I had already forgotten, exclaimed.
“I’m not going back in there,” I said.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Well, what am I supposed to tell everyone?”
I turned and started to walk toward the parking lot. “Tell them my father’s dead,” I called over my shoulder.
*****
By the time my mother got home that evening, I had already packed a suitcase. It held a few changes of clothes and some toiletries, and every memento I cherished. There weren’t many.
She appeared in my bedroom doorway, looking glitzed up and slightly buzzed. As afternoons stretched into evenings, she hung out at the local bar. Sometimes she didn’t come home at night.
My mother wasn’t yet forty, and people often mistook us for sisters. Her hair was a lighter red than my auburn, but I had her nose and cheekbones. She glanced at the suitcase on my bed and frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Packing,” I said, turning to face her. My voice shook with the effort to contain my rage. “My grandfather called me today, Mom. He said my father’s dead, and he also informed me that he’d been sending money to you for all these years. What a shame that I didn’t see a goddamn penny of it.”
Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed at my accusation. “How dare you!” she hissed. “I was a single mother, raising you on my own.”
“Oh, come off it,” I said, zipping up my suitcase. “I raised myself. Sometimes it felt like I was raising you, too.”
I grabbed the suitcase and my purse, glancing around the room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything important. As I started toward her, my mother’s mouth dropped open.
“You’re just going to up and leave? You don’t even know this man, Stella!” Her voice grew shrill, and I couldn’t help but wince.
“Yeah, well, he can’t be any worse than the family I have now.” I pushed past her and headed down the hall, but she was right on my heels.
“Stella, wait,” she demanded. When I didn’t slow, she grabbed my shoulder. “I said, wait, goddammit!”
I spun around to face her, throwing her off balance. “There is nothing you can say that will make this right, Mom.” I hated the tears welling in my eyes. As selfish and spiteful as my mother had been, I still longed to hear her apologize, to tell me she loved me.
“You have always been so ungrateful,” she said, shaking her head in disgust. “I sacrificed for you-“
“You stole from me!” I shouted.
She recoiled as if I’d slapped her. “Go on and choose some stranger over me then!” she shouted back. “I can’t wait till you find out just how rotten your father’s family is, and when you do, don’t you dare come crawling back here. If you leave now, we are fucking done.” Her eyes flashed with rage, and her cheeks flushed as she pointed a finger at me.
I turned around and continued toward the front door. “Then I guess we’re fucking done.”
This time she didn’t follow me. I threw my suitcase into the backseat of my car and then got into the driver’s seat, willing myself not to look at the front door of the house that until today I had considered home.
I was breathing too fast, my hands gripping the wheel too tightly as I backed out of the drive. “Keep it together,” I whispered to myself. “You cannot break down now.”
Earlier that afternoon, I’d taken time to look up my grandfather’s address online. I familiarized myself with the route I wanted to take and wrote down directions in case I lost cell reception. My car, an old but reliable secondhand vehicle, had a full tank of gas.
The evening air was cool, but I kept the window rolled down as I drove toward the interstate. I felt dazed, almost as if someone had struck me upside the head. How had my life been so suddenly and irrevocably changed with one phone call?
I turned on the radio, forcing myself to hum along to the music. “You’re gonna be okay,” I told myself. “This is a new beginning. You deserve that.”
When I began shaking, I rolled the window back up, but even then my teeth chattered, and I knew it was nerves. I pulled into a convenience store parking lot and bought a cheap cup of coffee, then got back on the road.
It was dark when I left the interstate, and other traffic was almost nonexistent as I took back roads in an area completely unfamiliar to me. It had crossed my mind that I should have called my grandfather and let him know I was on my way, but güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri I feared I would hear something in his voice that made me doubt his invitation. And at this point, I had nowhere else to go.
As Julian had predicted, my cell reception blinked out and didn’t return. In the darkness, I struggled to get my bearings, pulling over to consult with my written directions. They were no help at all.
Tears of frustration burned my eyes as I realized I was completely lost. I could feel myself on the verge of a meltdown, but before I could succumb to my panic and anger and all the other emotions coursing through me, I saw headlights approaching. Scrambling out of the car, I stayed toward the side of the road and waved my arms.
The truck slowed down, and a man whose face was half-hidden in darkness called out from the open window, “You need help, miss?”
“I’m lost,” I said with a laugh. I was too relieved to be embarrassed.
After I told him the address I was trying to find, the man said, “Oh yeah, you’re not far at all. Keep going down this road and take the second right. It’s a private gravel road, and it goes on a couple miles. But it will take you right there.”
“Thank you so much,” I gushed, grateful beyond measure that I was so close to my destination.
“Say, are you kin to Julian?” the man asked.
“I’m his granddaughter,” I replied. “Do you know him?”
The man laughed. “For my whole life. That property’s been in his family for generations, and I was born and raised here. Never left. Julian’s a good man.”
I thanked the stranger again, then got in my car and followed the directions he gave me. The private gravel road leading to Julian’s house was completely dark, and I saw no other dwellings.
I finally reached a long driveway that led to a two-story farmhouse. “This has to be it,” I told myself.
My mother had always described my father and his family as snooty rich folks, so I was expecting some imposing mansion. While the house was well maintained, it certainly didn’t seem like Julian was putting on airs living here. My headlights swept over a neatly kept lawn and a rugged SUV parked at the end of the drive. Beside it was a flashy red sports car, looking quite out of place with its surroundings. Beyond the vehicles and the house, I caught a glimpse of the backyard, and then deep woods.
I began shaking again as I parked my car, turning off the headlights and cutting the ignition. The house was mostly dark, but a soft light illuminated the bay window near the front door.
Leaving my suitcase in the car, I grabbed my purse and tucked my keys into my jeans pocket. The night air was cold and quiet, and when I looked up at the sky, I was dazzled at the sight of so many stars.
I didn’t have time to compose myself or prepare what I was going to say; I hadn’t even climbed the porch steps when the front door flew open.
A woman who was a few inches taller than me and probably twenty pounds lighter stared out into the darkness. I couldn’t make out her features very well in the shadows.
“Holy shit!” the woman said, then flipped on the porchlight. I shielded my eyes. “Stella, is that you?”
“The one and only,” I said with a nervous laugh. “You must be Naomi?”
She didn’t answer me. Instead, she shouted over her shoulder into the depths of the house, “Julian, your prodigal granddaughter is here!”
I hesitated while climbing the porch steps, not sure how to take her words or her tone. My cousin turned back to me, and I could see her face more clearly. A grin danced on her full lips, and she raked a hand through her long chestnut brown hair. I guessed she was a couple years older than me. Despite the cool temperature outside, she wore a slinky peach camisole and matching pajama shorts, and her feet were bare.
Naomi seemed to sense my uncertainty, for she stepped aside and gestured for me to come into the house. “Come in, come in!” she said, her eyes bright with mirth. “We had no idea you’d be here tonight.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” I stepped inside the front hall, and Naomi closed the door behind me. A small lamp glowed on the hall table, and my cousin beckoned me to follow her, her feet slapping on the hardwood floor.
We took a right off the hall and into a parlor. Naomi went about turning on lamps to give us some light. Looking around, I noticed that the furniture and large area rug appeared to be antiques but still in excellent condition.
“Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the chairs. “Can I get you anything? Tea, or some juice? Are you hungry?”
I stared at her in mild bewilderment as I sank into the seat. She was striking, almost manic in her energy. She was nothing like me.
Before I could answer, we heard footsteps approaching in the hall, and we both turned toward the doorway.
A tall, lean man appeared, and I quickly stood when our eyes met.
My grandfather smiled warmly, as if we had known each other forever and weren’t strangers. I güvenilir bahis şirketleri figured he had to be around sixty, but though his hair was silver, his face looked much younger. Faint lines creased the skin around his eyes, and they deepened with his smile. His skin was tan, and I guessed he spent plenty of time outdoors.
He wore a dress shirt and pants, as if he’d come home from a day at the office and removed his suit jacket and tie. His attire was a stark contrast to my cousin’s.
“My God,” Julian murmured, his gaze sweeping over me. “I’m so glad you’re finally here, Stella.” He approached me, closing the distance between us with a few long strides. I tensed, wondering if he would pull me into an embrace, but he merely took my hands in his. His skin was warm against my cold fingers.
As I gazed up at him, I noticed that our eyes were the same shade of blue.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, looking from him to Naomi. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Her attention was fixed on our grandfather; she seemed to be gauging his response to my presence. “I’m sorry to just show up like this. I’d planned to wait until morning, but…”
“I told you you’re welcome here any time,” Julian said. “You must be hungry. Naomi made some chicken salad for dinner. She can fix a plate for you.”
My stomach rumbled as if right on cue. The three of us laughed, and I said, “If it’s not too much trouble…”
Naomi waved a hand. “Not at all.”
My grandfather looked around. “Do you have a suitcase?”
“It’s out in the car. I’ll go get it.”
“Let me. Naomi will show you the kitchen.”
I followed my cousin out into the hall and toward the back of the house, glancing in rooms we passed. There was a beautiful dining room with a crystal chandelier over the table, along with another room that looked like a study. I walked carefully, arms folded over my chest.
The kitchen was large but homey. Naomi nodded toward the table, which seated four, then went to the fridge. “I do all the cooking around here. The cleaning, too,” she said as she began preparing my meal. “Julian used to have a housekeeper, but I don’t like strangers taking care of everything.” She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. “I like taking care of him myself.”
I forced a smile, though I wondered if her words had a double meaning. Maybe my cousin wasn’t happy I’d showed up here. Maybe she thought I was after my grandfather’s money.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked, trying to make friendly conversation.
“Since I was eighteen. Three years now,” Naomi replied, piling a croissant high with chicken salad. “My father, and your uncle, became a huge religious fundamentalist after he got married to my mom. We hardly ever visited Julian, because my parents think he’s a lost soul. My parents also decided that I was far too rebellious and needed to attend a strict bible college, or else I could hit the road. So I hit the road and wound up here. Best thing that ever happened to me.”
I was taken aback by how open she was with details about herself and her past. As she carried the plate toward me, I noticed her nipples were hard beneath her camisole, and I quickly averted my gaze. “You never said if you wanted tea or water or juice. Or maybe wine?”
“No wine,” I said. “I’m not much of a drinker, and I’m only nineteen, anyway. I’ll take a glass of water, thanks.”
My cousin brought me a glass of ice water, then sat across from me with her chin propped in her hands. Feeling like I was under a microscope, I took a small bite of my meal. “This is delicious,” I told her, and she beamed.
Julian entered the room and sat down in the chair between us. “I put your suitcase in your room upstairs,” he told me, and I noticed he didn’t say the guest room, or the spare room, but my room. “Can we get you anything else right now, Stella?”
They were both so kind and hospitable, I found myself struggling to swallow past the lump of tears in my throat. “This is great, thank you,” I managed to say.
Glancing at Julian’s hands, I noticed his long fingers, none of which sported a wedding ring. I knew he and my grandmother had divorced only a few years after they’d gotten married, and Julian had kept custody of both his sons.
During a recent evening when my mother was drinking straight from a bottle of wine in our kitchen, she told me that my father hated my grandmother for leaving him and had never forgiven her for it. “Your grandmother just walked away from her whole family. She met some other man, got married to him, and never looked back.” Mom thought a moment, then shrugged. “Of course, your dad hated your grandfather, too. He hated anyone who tried to care for him.”
“So you never met my grandmother?” I dared to ask my mom while her tongue was loose from the alcohol.
“Nope. Only met your grandfather a few times. He comes across as charming, but I know what kind of man he is. He always got everything he wanted, and your father was the same way. And let me tell you something, Stella. The last thing your father wanted was you. He disappeared after I told him I was pregnant. Guess he took after his mother after all.” Mom snickered and took another gulp of wine. Then she refused to say anything more about my father’s side of the family.
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