Free Finding Home by Elizabeth Sage Page A

high school days,
when I lived with the Wembles and for the first time in my life
really tried to fit in. I tried to forget Nick and started going
with the safe Gordon Clark. I became academic and religious. I
managed to repress my real self and fool everyone until Prom night,
when it all fell apart.
    I was going to Prom with Gord, of course. But
because he was on student council and had to take tickets and sell
refreshments, he’d arranged for us to double with another dance
committee member, Liz Blake. The idea was that when Gordon and Liz
were busy, their dates would have someone to talk to and dance
with.
    What Gord didn’t know was that Liz’s date,
Nick Talbot, was someone I shouldn’t be left alone with. I’d never
told anyone, especially not Gord, how Nick affected me. But what
could I do? In the end I just planned to get through the evening as
best I could. Maybe everything would be fine.
    And maybe I was looking for trouble. Maybe I
was feeling restless, too controlled by the expectations of Gordon
Clark and the Wembles.
    Vera had wanted to sew me a respectable
princess gown in pale peach crepe, like something she might have
worn. Like something I might have worn too, at the time. But
instead I’d chosen a long slinky black dress with the back scooped
low. Now I had to wonder if it was knowing I’d be with Nick that
made me want to wear it. Just as I’d wanted to impress him
tonight.
    My earlier nervousness was evaporating at an
alarming rate. At the lodge I rarely drank. I’d forgotten how fast
alcohol can go to your head when you’re not used to it. After just
one glass of wine I couldn’t stop staring at Nick, who looked
casually elegant in a white shirt open at the neck. I couldn’t get
Prom night, and how I’d felt dancing with him, out of my mind.
    Gord and Liz had been busy with their
committee duties most of the evening. Nick played the stand-in
escort perfectly, always at my side. But each time we danced, he
pulled me closer than necessary, too close for just friends. And I
had to keep removing his hand from my bare back. Where to put it
though?
    The few dances I had with Gord, he placed his
hand at my waist, chaste and polite. But when I tried moving Nick’s
hand there, he acted as if I’d been suggesting he slide it even
lower. I pretended to be insulted, but I kept dancing with him. I
didn’t hide in the washroom to avoid him. I didn’t offer to help
Gord and Liz. Oh no. I danced with Nick every chance I got.
    And then later, well, later was just too
painful to think about. For fourteen years I’d forced myself to
pretend later never happened. Which was what I must do now.
I must focus on the question at hand.
    Could I have a baby for Nick and Kiera?
    Yes!
    But could I give that baby up?
    I looked across at Kiera, who had wanted a
lot of children but wasn’t able to have any. Kiera whose lovely
face looked so heartbroken, so sad. Of course, I thought. No
problem. And Nick? Well, knowing his past, I had deep sympathy for
him. I understood how it felt to have no mother. To be abandoned.
If family was what he wanted, and I could help him have one, why
wouldn’t I? What would I do with a baby anyway?
    The evening whirled by. Phoebe lit the fire,
and its radiance augmented the rosy spell of the candlelight. I was
reminded of hot eager blood rushing up under pale skin, and knew I
must look flushed in just that way myself.
    I even caught myself drooling over the rare
roast beef Phoebe had cooked. I hadn’t eaten meat since I’d been at
the lodge. But now I wanted to I resisted, eating just the
Yorkshire pudding and vegetables. But my appetite disturbed me.
    With each course a different wine was served,
and Nick never let my glass be even half empty. At one point I
covered the top to stop him refilling it again, but he lifted my
hand off and held it firmly while continuing to pour.
    My stomach felt like I’d just dropped forty
floors in a fast elevator. Such an extreme reaction to his