“I told her I thought I could do it and spent every extra moment that I wasn’t taking care of Jenny in the kitchen. I was determined to get it right. But everything tasted off: the salt was too salty, the lemon not nearly strong enough.
“The next Friday, we did our blind tasting for the teachers like we usually did, and we were scored like always. I failed by two points.” Liz gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “There was too much tarragon and not enough pepper. I’d gone heavy on the lemon. I wanted to scream at them that it wasn’t my fault, that my tastes were altered because of the pregnancy, but it was over and I knew it. I packed up my bags and we came back here. I’d lost my chance.”
“Because of me,” Liz said quietly.
Loretta just looked at her for a long moment, then finally said, “Because of bad timing. I was a wreck. I was bitter and disappointed and I shouldn’t be surprised you picked up on that. Your father and I started fighting when we got back. Nothing could please me, nothing could compensate for what I’d lost. He couldn’t understand what I was so upset about, why I couldn’t move on and just be happy with what we had. Then you were born and it was really hard for a really long time. Two children under two isn’t easy under the best of circumstances. Your grandparents were living here with us and I felt like I was being watched all the time. When it was just one baby, I felt like I could get away. I had options, I could have made it work with just one—school, a job, whatever. But two just felt so impossible, so overwhelming for the twenty-year-old girl I was.
“Now look at me. A forty-five-year-old woman whose daughter is asking her why she was such a bitch all her life.” She laughed cynically.
“I didn’t say that!” Liz protested.
“You may as well have. Don’t worry, I’m not offended. Lord knows it’s true enough. So to answer your question, I don’t dislike you. In fact I like you very much, but you were born in a very difficult situation to two completely unprepared people. Your father doted on you, always has, but I had a hard time. It was so easy to bond with Jenny. She was so sweet and we were so naïve, but with you, I knew exactly what I was getting myself into, the sleepless nights and the earaches, and I was terrified.”
Liz thought that the disappointment of being another girl and not the hoped for son probably also added to the difficulty, but she said nothing.
Loretta sighed and looked toward the window. “And if I’m being completely honest, I’ve been a bit jealous.”
“Jealous? Of me? Why?”
“Do you really need to ask? You’re charmed!” Liz looked at her incredulously. “You’re smart and talented and beautiful.” Liz started to interrupt but Loretta held up a hand to stop her. “And most importantly, you make better decisions than I ever did.”
“You did the best you could with difficult circumstances,” Liz said uneasily, unsure if even she believed her words.
“Let’s not kid ourselves, honey. I could have done better. I had a chance and I blew it, plain and simple—with your father, with cooking school. I’ve had to accept that.”
“Could you not go back later? Was there no way to try again?”
“Your father wouldn’t have been willing to do that a second time. Remember this, Lizzy.” She faced her daughter fully. “In the beginning, a man is desperate to please you, to make you happy, but after a while, that fades. He’s less willing to put himself out when he gets little in return. The few times we talked about it were so tense and he always brought up logistical problems that I couldn’t argue with. Then his father bought the farm next door and it was time to expand and Neal was needed here. My window closed.”
“Oh, Mom! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s not your fault, baby. You were an innocent child, and I’m so proud of you. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t wanted here or that I didn’t like you. I adore you. I just don’t always know what to do with you. You’re so smart and worldly, and you and your father always have these private jokes; I feel like the two of you are laughing at me half the time. And I’m so worried you’ll end up like me and so worried you’ll be like your father. He’s so alone now, with just his stubbornness to keep him company.” She shook her head.
“Mom, I—we weren’t laughing at you. I’m sorry if we made you think that.”
Loretta jumped in. “Don’t apologize to me, honey. You’re a brilliant girl. You always have been. You get that from your father. I’m smart enough, but he’s brilliant. That’s what drew me to him, you know? He wore those glasses when he read that made him look so scholarly. And he was always quoting poetry to me. He’d say the sweetest things. I’d pack us a picnic and we’d go for a ride up into the hills. We’d lie on a blanket and he’d read aloud to me; Brontë, Dickens, Henry James. I’d feed him pie and we’d while away the days. I wasn’t as smart as him, we both knew it, but we were good together, for a while.” Loretta laughed softly. “He once wrote a poem about my strawberry pie. He said it was like poetry in his mouth and I teased him to write it down for me. I still have it somewhere.” She sighed.
They were silent for several minutes, soaking it in and looking everywhere but at each other.
“Thanks for telling me all this, Mom. It helps.”
Loretta smiled softly. “I’m so sorry you’ve been caught in the middle of this mess, baby girl. I’ll be better going forward—I promise.”
She rose and sat down next to Liz, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. She slowly rocked side to side, stroking her hand up and down Liz’s arm as she hummed softly. Liz shifted and lay her head in her mother’s lap, trying to stifle the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. Loretta stopped her rocking and ran her hand through her daughter’s hair and began singing softly.
“‘Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.’” Loretta continued in her soft voice while Liz cried quietly, until finally, lulled by her mother’s voice, she fell into a peaceful sleep.
***
Sunday afternoon, the family all gathered around the dining table at Loretta’s house to celebrate the matriarch’s birthday. The birthday itself was Wednesday, but they were celebrating together before half the family returned to New York.
The food was delicious, the cake was divine, and the pitcher of mint julep emptied quickly. After the meal, Loretta sat down on the sofa to open her gifts. Tiffany had made her a metalwork necklace that had everyone exclaiming and Heather gave her mother a cardigan she had knitted herself. Originally, Jen had gotten her a beautiful bracelet and Liz a matching pair of diamond stud earrings, but after their discussion two nights ago, Liz had another idea. She bit her lip anxiously as Loretta opened the small flat box with a simple label saying it was from all her daughters.
Loretta looked at the heavy cardstock inside, then at her daughters in confusion.
“What is this?”
“It was Lizzy’s idea,” Tiffany said. “Jen said you can stay with her, and Heather and I will watch the store for you. Isn’t it great?” Tiffany clapped her hands together gleefully, but Loretta was still too shocked to say anything.
She looked at the card in her hands and read it for the third time. She was invited to attend a special week-long intensive for chefs in New York. There were several happening throughout the summer, each focusing on different aspects of cooking and pastry making. The card said two week-long courses were paid for; she could take them consecutively or on their own. Everything was arranged and her acceptance was guaranteed.
“How? When?” Loretta stammered.
“William knows one of the chefs involved. He made a call. Do you like it?” Liz asked tentatively.
Loretta fanned herself with the box lid and said, “Like it? Of course I like it! I love it! You sweet girls! Thank you so much!”
All her daughters piled around her for a group hug. When everyone broke away, Loretta held onto Liz and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Lizzy. That was incredibly generous of you.”
“Yo
u called me Lizzy,” Liz replied in surprise.
“I know you prefer it.” She smiled tearfully at her daughter and Liz smiled back, kissing her mother on the cheek and walking away before she got emotional.
Harper watched it all with hopeful skepticism. He wanted Liz to have a good relationship with her mother, to have the relationship he’d never had with his, but at the same time, he knew change took time and Loretta’s negative habits and Liz’s defensiveness were well ingrained. Still, he couldn’t help the deep sense of satisfaction he felt looking at Liz hugging her mother so affectionately and being genuinely embraced in return.
Even Neal looked affected. William didn’t miss the look of understanding that passed between his wife’s parents when Loretta had opened her gift. Neal knew how much this meant to Loretta, that was obvious.
After another hour of chatting and hearing all about Tiffany’s acceptance and plans for Rhode Island School of Design, Liz, William, Jenny, and Andrew said emotional goodbyes and piled into their rental cars, promising to visit again soon and congratulating Tiffany once more on graduating high school.
“How do you feel?” Will asked in the car.
“Good. Drained. How about you?” she replied.
“Fine, but I’m not the one who just had a come-to-Jesus moment with my mother. You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah, I’m great, actually. It’s not perfect and we have a long way to go, but I feel like we’ve made a good start and cleared up some misunderstandings. That’s more than I ever thought would happen.”
He held her hand over the console. “Good. I’m glad.”
“Thanks for encouraging me to clear the air. You were right. Questions needed to be asked.”
“You’re welcome. Any time.”
42
stalling
Late July
2 Years, 3 Months Married
Monday evening, Will took the mail from his box in the lobby and flipped through it in the elevator. His heart stopped for a moment when he saw a USCIS stamp on the corner of a white envelope. He stepped into the apartment and listened carefully. All was quiet. He took the letter to his study and ripped open the top, quickly scanning the letter inside.
There it was, attached to the bottom of a sheet of watermarked green paper: his ten-year permanent resident card. He’d known this was coming, but for some reason, he was shocked to see it happening so soon.
Of course, he could delay it all. He could tell Liz there was some kind of hiccup, or better yet that he’d decided to get citizenship and ask if she’d stay on longer. That would buy him a whole year more.
Get a hold of yourself, Will. You can’t bribe her into staying. As he told himself that, though, he wondered if he could, just a little bit. It didn’t have to be a complete bribe, just enough to get her to want to stay.
He shook off his wayward thoughts, ashamed. He couldn’t live with himself if he manipulated Liz like that. Besides, immigration was nothing to play around with. And she probably didn’t want to stay anyway. It’s not like she’s in love with me.
Sometimes, in his more desperate moments, he thought she was, at least a little, or that she could be down the road, but he always dismissed the idea. Liz was so open, when she felt something for someone, they knew it. And she had always been direct with him, even with difficult topics. Surely she would have said something if she wanted to try a real marriage?
On top of all of that, he knew her history. Every time the men in her life asked her to commit, Liz cut and ran. Maybe it was because she didn’t love them, or love them enough, or maybe she just didn’t feel it was right. But he had to admit that part of him wondered if she wasn’t just frightened of commitment. Lord knows watching her parents’ marriage could have put anyone off the idea. If she hadn’t found that ring with Matt, she likely would have stayed with him longer. Maybe she would have changed her mind about him eventually.
And of course she freely acknowledged that she’d loved Jeremy. By her own admission, they were great together and deeply in love. But still, still she hadn’t been willing to commit to him.
Will had Googled Jeremy; he had a good position at a PR firm in Phoenix and was already climbing the ranks admirably. He was on track for management and possibly more. According to everything Will had found (thanks to a bottle of scotch and a late night in front of the computer), Jeremy was well liked and respected and disturbingly single. He had a niggling fear that Liz would go back to him when their relationship ended. He had no idea how she still felt about Jeremy; she said she was over it, but he knew too well how one’s own heart could surprise a person.
He found himself oddly hoping that she did have a fear of commitment and that it would keep her far away from Phoenix and its eligible bachelors.
No, it was much safer to keep her in his life as a friend than to risk losing her altogether by making an uncomfortable request.
He would call Jamison in the morning and tell him it was time to prepare the papers. He shoved the letter in his briefcase and told himself not to worry until he had to.
**
One week later
“I’ve got the settlement ready for you to sign whenever you’re ready, Harper,” Andrew said during their next meeting in his office. He pulled a sheaf of papers from a drawer and plopped them down in front of his friend.
Will absentmindedly flipped through the documents on the table. “Five hundred thousand and a house? That’s all she’s getting?”
“Those were the terms we originally agreed to. You thought they were adequate two years ago.”
“Adequate? How is she supposed to live on that? The interest won’t even cover her living expenses!”
“I believe she expects to work full-time, similar to what she is doing now,” Jamison said carefully.
“Make it two million.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Make it two million. And she can have the apartment. I don’t need it, I’ve got the family place, I can easily move in there. Oh, and don’t forget the maintenance fees.”
“Whoa, wait a minute, Harper,” Andrew said agitatedly. “I know this is Liz and you want to do right by her and all, but the original settlement is perfectly adequate, generous even, by some standards.”
“This is not a case of ‘some standards,’ Jamison,” Harper spat scathingly. “This is my wife we’re talking about here. I want her taken care of. Make it two million, plus the apartment in town and whatever house she wants. No limits on that.”
“No limits! Harper! You can’t just give her carte blanche to buy whatever she wants. The original limit of six hundred thousand is perfectly reasonable.”
“Quit making me repeat myself, Jamison. Whatever she wants. I trust Liz.”
With a final look at his friend and lawyer, Harper left the room.
Later that night, Harper sat in his office, looking at pictures of their last vacation on his computer. They had gone to London for Christmas, then on to Switzerland for New Year with a group of friends and family, or as Liz had referred to them, a motley crew. Teddy and six-months-pregnant Caroline had come and brought their nanny and little Thomas. Calvin Covington and Harry Cavendish each came with their most recent girlfriends, and Jennifer and Andrew came after their visit with his family in Dorset.
They’d stayed in Harry’s family place near Lake Geneva in a small French-speaking village. The chalet was beautiful, the scenery was pristine, and the company was perfect. Andrew finally popped the question and Jen accepted joyfully; they celebrated for what felt like days. They laughed and drank and ate more fondue than they could hold. Will taught Liz how to ski, something they each enjoyed immensely, and with a grin, he remembered how cute she had looked in her ski suit.
She had really been horrible when she started. She couldn’t balance or keep her skis straight or maintain the correct posture. He’d been equally exasperated and amused with her. But when she smiled at him so sweetly after fumbling his instructions, his annoyance woul
d dissolve and he’d find his patience again. After a few days, she finally got the hang of it and they spent many pleasurable hours skiing down very gentle slopes. Next year, he wanted to take her down something a bit more challenging. Maybe they could—he stopped himself.
There wouldn’t be a next year. Now that he had his ten year green card, they needed to start distancing themselves. He’d have to go to society functions without her, she would spend more time with her friends without him. All strictly social functions would have to be attended without the other and their dates would cease. Andrew had orchestrated a detailed plan for the break up, just as he had the beginning of their relationship. Once they’d quit spending time together publicly, he’d move into his parents’ apartment—his apartment now—and they would admit to a separation. A month after that, they’d file for divorce officially. It would all be done by Christmas, February at the latest.
His stomach rolled just thinking about it.
Ignoring his feelings of discomfort, he opened another file of pictures on his computer. They were from Valhalla the previous spring. They’d gone for a week to celebrate their second anniversary. Liz was in nearly all of them, except for the ones she’d taken of him and a few of the local scenery. They were on the beach, lying in the sand, playing in the water, laughing at stupid jokes and drinking too much. He felt a tightening in his throat as he looked at her, running on the beach, looking over her shoulder at him, her hair flying behind her, a teasing grin on her lips. It had been a blissful holiday and for a brief moment, he wondered if Liz might want to go back, for one last hurrah as it were.
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