Journey to Nowhere

Dinner and Discoveries

  Later that evening I made way up to Stephen's door and rang the bell. A few moment passed before Stephen appeared in the doorway.
He had changed into a pair of grey jeans and white baseball tee with green sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"Hey." He greeted, making room for me to walk into the house.
"Hi," I smiled walking into the living room.
"I really hope you like salmon." He commented, stepping into the kitchen adjoined to the living room.
"It's my favorite. You cook?" I pondered.
"All the time. My parents are never home to make dinner." He stated peering into the oven. "Another five minutes and we can eat."
I took a seat on a bar stool and looked over the space.
It was an open layout house. From the kitchen island you could see the small flat screen mounted on the tan walls.
A few painting were scattered throughout the space and a picture of what must've been a young Stephen was framed on some shelves.
As I roamed my eyes settled on a stack of boxes in a corner near a door.
"Are you moving out?" I questioned signaling towards to the boxes.
Stephen leaned against the island and shook his head.
"We're having a garage sale tomorrow. There was a bunch of trash stashed in the basement. We've spent the last 2 weeks clearing stuff out." He explained.
I rose from the stool and made my way to the stack. Various labels were written on the boxes in black marker.
"Do you mind if I look through?"
"Be my guest." He waved me off and turned his attention back to the oven.
Fingering through the first two boxes I discovered nothing but old books. Classics mainly and a few children's books, all in perfect condition.
Popping open the third box, labeled C. Daniels, a brown stuffed bear with a blue bow wrapped around its neck caught my eye.
"Dinner's ready!" Stephen said. The smell of roasted potatoes filled the room as he opened the oven.
Grabbing the bear, I walked into the kitchen.
"Childhood bear?" I asked, holding up the little brown bear.
Stephen looked up from the glass dish, balling up a sheet of foil. He let out a chuckle but shook his head.
"I've never seen that bear in my life." He remarked, tossing the foil ball in the trash.
I ran my fingers over the bear's back when suddenly two fingers slid into a small hole. Twisting my fingers around, I felt a piece of paper. Grabbing onto it I pulled the folded sheet out of the bear.
"Well whoever's it was left some paper inside it."
Appearing beside me, Stephen looked down at the bear and paper. "Hold this." I said, passing him the bear.
I unfolded the paper, scanning the small, curvy handwriting.

Catalina,
I'm sorry for what I've put you through. There's so much I want to tell you but you and I both know there's not much time. Whatever happens please remember I love you and Lynea both with all my heart. I'll do whatever I can to keep you both safe but I truly don't know what we're up against. I'm asking for a lot from you at such a young age but continue looking out for Lynea. She'll need you more than ever. I'll come back when I can. If you ever have a problem call Uncle Ian. I love you, Mom.

"What does it say?"
Speechless, I placed the paper in Stephen's palm.
As he read the letter my mind was racing.
"...continue looking out for Lynea..."
"... remember I love you and Lynea both with all my heart..."
I had just read a letter from my birth mom addressed to my sister. I never would've thought I had a sister. Why couldn't I remember either of them? Or the fact that I had an uncle?
The contents of the letter raised even more questions. What wasn't there enough time for? Why did she leave? What happened to Catalina? Did she write me my own letter?
Probably not. Considering how long it's been, I wouldn't have been able to read it.
The revelation was throwing me for a loop. This didn't make any sense.
"Lynea." Stephen's husky voice snapped me out of my interior monologue.
"Huh? Oh sorry. Let's eat." I said even though my appetite was gone. Stephen must've picked up my mood because he simply nodded, placing the bear and note on the breakfast bar.
~~~~~~
Stephen and I joked around, attempting to lighten my mood during dinner. We kept the conversation light.
"Did you do any sports as a kid?"
"I did baseball until 10th grade, then I started to get more into computer work. What about you?"
"My mom put me in ballet when I was 8, I hated it." I replied. "I ended up doing track and field. Loved it."
"Does NSU have a track and field team?"
"I believe so, I never bothered checking. I quit junior year."
Stephen simply nodded and ate a potato. I followed suit. The potatoes and salmon had been perfect seasoned.
"You're an amazing cook. I'm surprised you hadn't considered culinary school."
He smiled. "It's more of a hobby. I picked it up a few years ago. I know you must have some secret talent."
I let out a small laugh. "I play the cello and piano."
He raised an eyebrow, "Tell me about how you got started."
We looked at each other from across the small, rectangular table. His eyes were soft but focused on me. Finishing off my last potato, I nodded.
"It started in sixth grade..."
~~~~~~
"Thanks for dinner." I grinned, handing him my plate.
Looking at the clock I realized I had been at this house for almost 3 hours.
"Thanks for the company. It's nice not eating alone." He said sounding distant.
"Why aren't your parents ever home?"
"Work." He stated dryly.
I understood parents working late hours. Mom would leave around 6 every morning and when it was truly necessary she'd stay until 11pm.
"Are they always gone for a majority on the day?" I asked without thinking.
"More or less. I'm used to it." He answered tightly.
Shit. His parents were definitely a touchy subject. "Didn't mean to probe."
He ran a hand through his hand. "It's cool Lynea."
I got up from the dining table and walked into the kitchen. The room was thick with tension.
Stephen cleared his throat, "Anyways, what are you going to do with the note." He placed our plates in the sink and leaned next to me on the island .
I remained quiet for a moment. I genuinely had no clue what I could do with the note. Showing it to my parents wouldn't help much and there was nothing Stephen could do.
I shrugged in response. "The letter's a dead end. There's nothing I can do with it."
Maybe I'll frame it. A treasure from my birth mother, I thought.
"Wait, what box did you pull the bear out of?" He asked.
"The third one."
Stephen pushed himself off the counter and moved towards the boxes.
"C. Daniels..." He returned to the bar, picking up the note. I remained silent as he scanned it. "The C could easily stand for Catalina..."
Or Cara. Or Caitlyn. Maybe Cindy or Catherine. I tried to get the pessimist thoughts out of my head.
"So my last name would be Daniels. Still, that's not much to go off of."
Lynea Daniels. Fitting enough. My parents had never told me full birth name. Not that I bothered to ask if my name was anything else than Lynea Taylor.
Stephen shook his head and went back to box, this time searching its contents.
"Stephen I appreciate your help, I really do, but I don't th-"
"Ah, this might help." He interrupted. He turned to face me, a small, black book in his right hand.
"And that would be..."
"An address book." He finished. I tilted my head in confusion.
"How'd you know you find an address box in that box?"
"I didn't." He remarked with a smirk. "The letter said if there was an issue to call Uncle Ian."
Moments passed before the lightbulb went off and I broke out in a smile. "Stephen you're a genius!" I looked up at him and a smile pulled at his lips.
"It doesn't take a genius to find an address book." He said with a shrug.
He flipped open the book and scanned the first few pages with his index finger. "Dahlia...Daley...Daniels. No Ian Daniels. Sorry Lynea." He said sadly.
"Thanks for trying, it was a great idea. I just hold onto the letter." I said trying to mask my disappointment.
"Actually, one second." He took a seat on a stool and kept flipping through each page, scanning it rapidly.
Two minutes passed until either of us said anything. "The only Ian in here is Ian Hernandez."
He pulled out his phone and opened the keypad.
"That could be any Ian." I rationed.
"Or it could be your uncle."
"Wait, he could have easily changed his number." I state, suddenly feeling anxious.
"Will you please trust me on this? You're gonna regret not taking this chance so please just try." He says, looking down at me.
I knew he was right. This was my chance to contact a blood relative.
"Fine." I finally say.
Inputting the rest of Ian's number, Stephen called the number and handed the phone to me.
I put the phone up to my ear and waited patiently. A hoarse voice muttered a hello on the third ring.
"H-h-hello." I stuttered. Why am I suddenly so afraid?
Glancing at him, Stephen urged me to continue.
I took a deep breath and continued, "Is this Ian?"
"It is. Whom am Ispeaking to?" The voice was rough and strained, possibly belonging to a smoker.
"Lynea." I whisper.
"Lynea?" He whispered, sounding surprised. I looked at Stephen once more, he smiles, giving me a thumb up. "Lynea, is it really you?" He asked after a moment of silence.
"Um.. yes. Please tell me you're actually my Uncle Ian." My voice cracks when I say Ian.
I was talking to a blood relative. All at once I felt overwhelmed. I would've never imagined this would happen.
"It's me alright," he answered and I can tell he's smiling. "I haven't seen you since you're first birthday. Where are you? Where's Catalina?"
"I'm in Orlando, but I don't know where Catalina is. Quite frankly, I don't even remember who she is." I explained.
"You aren't with her?"
I remained silent, not knowing what to say.
"All this time I'd assumed you two were together. I haven't heard from her in years. "
Years? This was getting nowhere. My sister could be anywhere by now.
"What's he saying?" Stephen whispered, causing me to jump. I forgot I was still in his house.
I hold up a finger.
"Uncle Ian, when's the last time you spoke to Catalina?"
"It's been at least 6 years. Last time we spoke she was on her way to New York."
Six years. That felt like forever ago.
"Lynea? Mi sobrina?" He said after I hadn't said anything.
"Oh s-sorry. I don't know..." I couldn't finish my sentence. What didn't I know? Everything it seemed.
"Lynea, you must come visit me in Charlotte. There's so much I have to tell you and I'd rather not do it over the phone."
Come visit? In Charlotte?"
"Um.. okay Uncle Ian. I'll see what I can do and get back to you." I said letting the words flow out of my mouth.
What was I even saying?
"I must be going mi sobrina but please do call again. I've missed you."
My throat suddenly tightened. "I've missed you too." Even though I've never met you, I almost said.
Ending the call, I placed Stephen's phone on the counter.
"So...how'd it go?" I heard Stephen say from behind me.
Trudging over to the living room I collapsed on the sofa beside him, suddenly exasperated.
"Good... I guess."
"Well, if you're up for it, I have some cookies and cream ice cream in the freezer. It could be dessert."
I gave him a small smile and nodded. "Sounds good."
Pushing himself off the sofa, he made his way to the freezer and pulled out the ice cream.
This had been one of hell of a dinner.
~~~~~~
And that concludes chapter two.
Please vote and comment.
Thank you!