The next day: December 17th
Nothing gets Catherine’s mind off of her emotions like working does, especially paperwork. She knew she’d supposed to be on vacation but after last night, she needed to do a little bit of work today. She headed into her dad’s office and settled in his big, leather chair. It smells like him. She smiled. She sat her paperwork on the desk, realizing she doesn’t have a pen. She knew her dad kept pens in one of his drawers so she opened the top one. There are staplers, Post-Its, and stamps, but no pens. Closing it, she moves down to the second drawer and opened it. On the top is a manilla folder with the name Belle Forester on it. “Who’s Belle Forester?” she asked out loud. Her parents never had anything to hide from her, always making it clear what they wanted and when, so this should be no different. She opened the folder and some papers slid out. The one that caught her eye was a birth certificate. It belonged to this Belle Forester and she was almost three and a half years old. She looked at the parents column and her world began to crumble. This couldn’t be. In the mother column was her own name and in the father’s column was Jackson Forester. With trembling hands she looked through the rest of the paper and confirmed her suspicions. Jackson Forester was the man at the bar. According to her calculations, the baby was born when she was in a coma. Had she gotten pregnant from that one-night-stand and her parents aborted the baby? No, the baby was alive. But where was she? Catherine was a mother! But where was her daughter? Then it dawned on her: Jackson had her. And then the lightbulb went off and she broke down. Jackson hated her because he thought he dumped their child on him and left. She swiped angrily at her tears. She stuffed the papers back into the folder and put it back, then gathered her own and left the office. Her parents had snatched her child away while she’d been in the hospital. It was too clear to deny. Not ready to confront them about it, she locked herself in her room, and didn’t come out until the evening, when she headed to the club. She had to speak to Jackson right away. He had to know she’d never ditch her own flesh and blood. God, what must he think of her.
She practically ran into the club, looking eagerly for Jackson. He was behind the counter with his brother again. “Jackson!” she said, as soon as she walked up. He looked up and gave her a questioning look. At least it wasn’t anger. Jacob, on the other hand, didn’t look so pleased. She swallowed the sudden lump of emotion in her throat and said, “Belle. I didn’t know.” His eyes widened when she said ‘Belle’. That was all the confirmation she needed. She broke down. Before she hit the ground, she felt arms wrap around her and haul her up and against a hard chest. She knew it was Jackson without even looking. She’d been in his arms before and she’d never forget what it was like. She knew his scent too. He practically carried her to a seat and sat her down, then knelt in front of her.
Jackson didn’t know what was happening. Last night she acted like all was right in her world. Now, she was a sobbing mess, and she’d said Belle. He motioned for someone to bring him water. Jacob brought him a bottle of water, which he opened and handed to her. She gulped it down then looked at him. “Better?” he asked. She nodded. “Good. Now what about Belle?” This seemed to bring on another wave of emotion but she held it back, “I...I just found out about her- this morning.” He almost scoffed. How could a woman not know she was pregnant? His disbelief must’ve shown on his face because she continued, “Four years ago, about this time, I got hit by a car. I went into a coma for two years. During that time, my parents must’ve given her to you. They never told me!” Jackson looked at Jacob. Was that possible? He looked thoughtful then said, “I do remember hearing in the news that some rich girl got hit in a parking lot while Christmas shopping. That was about four years ago.” Jackson looked back at Catherine and could see the sincerity in her eyes. She had had no idea about their child. She hadn’t given her up. Her parents had. No wonder she'd been so clueless last night: she hadn’t even known. And that just made him feel bad for the way he treated her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For what?” she asked. “The way I treated you last night. I thought…” “You thought I was the type of woman who'd drop their kid off with anyone so they could go party.” He nodded. She looked away. “I’m sorry. Over three years ago, your family’s lawyer came to my house and told me you didn’t want her anymore.” Her eyes widened then darkened with anger, clearly at her parents. Then she looked nervous and he knew what she was going to ask before she even said it. “Can I meet her?”
Catherine held her breath and waited for his answer. She knew that if he said ‘no’, she’d probably break down on the spot again. But it was his right. She really didn’t have any claim over their daughter. He slowly nodded, “Sure.” Her face lit up and she hugged him without second thought. He hugged her back then set her back into the chair. “Can I meet her today?!” Her excitement was getting the best of her. He shook his head, “Tomorrow. Give me your phone number so I can text you my address and the time.” She eagerly told him her number and he put it into his phone. He nodded, “Okay, I’ll text you.” She nodded and he stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He and his brother returned to work. She left the club a bundle of nerves. She had a daughter. That brought her thoughts back to her parents. Why had they done that to her? She had so many questions. But now wasn’t the time to ask them. Perhaps she went to his house and found she didn’t feel any motherly pull to Belle? Or found that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother. Then bringing this up to her parents wouldn’t be necessary. She nodded and headed back home, deciding to ask her parents about it later. Besides, she didn’t want them interfering. If they sent Belle away once already, who’s to say they wouldn’t again before she had the chance to meet her? She got into her car and drove back home. She was excited and nervous about tomorrow.
When she got home, she called Tara and Quinn on Skype. Tara was feeding Toby and Quinn was munching on chips. “What's up?” Tara asked, like having her boob hanging out on Skype was an everyday occurance. Catherine took a deep breath, “I have a daughter.” Silence. “You got a dog?! OMG! What kind?” Quinn asked. Tara was looking at her quizzically. She shook her head, “Like, I gave birth to a baby.” Quinn’s mouth worked for a moment but nothing came out. “And you’re just not telling us? Got jealous of Toby?” Tara said as a joke. Catherine looked at her intertwined hands, “I just found out this morning. When I was in a coma, she was born and my parents gave her to her dad.” “How’d you find out?” Tara asked. “I was looking for a pen in my dad’s desk.” “Who’s her dad?” “Jackson, from the club.” Gasps.