Sweet on Peggy

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Sweet on Peggy Page 13

by Stella MacLean


  “This can’t be right. My mother would have told me about you when she knew I was moving here. She would have told me about you,” she repeated, as if trying to grasp the idea. The look in her eyes was too painful to bear. He reached for her hand.

  She pulled away, out of his reach.

  “Peggy, I’m really sorry you had to learn about me this way. If I’d had any opportunity to know about you, I would have been in your life a long time ago. I would never have let you grow up without me, without knowing how much I loved you. I’ve wanted children all my life,” he said, watching her expression.

  She turned to him. “When did you find this out?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “How?”

  He stared at his hands.

  “You can’t be my father. Someone would have told me before now. You wanted children, that’s all.”

  “I have the investigator’s report right here that says you’re my daughter. I talked to Ellen, and she told me the truth.”

  “You talked to Mom? She told you I’m your daughter?” Peggy demanded, her voice rising. “Give me that report.” She grabbed it from his hands.

  “Peggy, I sympathize with what you’re going through. We’ve both been lied to, and now we have to figure out what to do next.”

  “No. I’m not going to listen to any more of this. You and your investigator got this all wrong. Besides, why should I believe you or Mom? The two of you can’t seem to get your stories straight. Mom never ever mentioned you. You brushed me off when I asked you about her. Now suddenly I’m supposed to be excited that you’re my dad? I don’t think so.” She stood, her body language making it clear she wanted him to leave.

  He got up, scribbled his cell number on a piece of notepaper he’d had in the file and handed it to her. Without saying another word, he went to his car, got in and started the engine. He glanced one more time at his daughter to see tears streaming down her face. It was clear he wasn’t welcome in her life, and no wonder. The shock of his revelation had to be very difficult. If Peggy should call Ellen, he hoped that for the sake of their daughter she’d be honest.

  It was the only chance he had to play a role in his daughter’s life.

  * * *

  PEGGY WAS SHAKING so badly she could hardly make her legs carry her to her back door. When she finally closed the door behind Bill Cassidy, she slumped down on the bench in disbelief. How could he come here, out of the blue, and start talking about being her birth father? Clutching the report he’d given her, she went to the kitchen, sat down and began to read. The words were clear, concise and irrefutable. The investigator’s report included a short interview with Ellen Anderson in which she stated that Peggy Anderson’s biological father was Bill Cassidy.

  When he made it clear that he believed she was his daughter, she’d been just plain rude with him. Until he gave her the private investigator’s report to read, she’d been convinced that he was after something, using a story about being her father to cover whatever insane intentions he harbored.

  She glanced around her living room, at the dark woodwork, the shiny wood floors, the stone fireplace, all the things she loved about this Craftsman house she’d first seen on the internet. She remembered that day so well. She’d been searching for hours, ready to give up, when she found her place.

  People had thought she was crazy to move so far away, over a house she’d seen only in pictures. What they didn’t understand was that she’d known from the minute she saw the house she had to have it. Her inheritance had made such a purchase possible. To think that she moved here, to a place she’d come to love, to the place where her biological father lived and her mother had never once said anything about this man who claimed to be her dad.

  Her fingers still shaking, she dialed her mother’s number in Seattle. She didn’t care what time it was out there because this couldn’t wait. She listened to the phone ring three times, each ring making her angrier at her mother and her lies.

  “Hello,” her mother said cautiously. “Is that you, Peggy?”

  At the sound of her mother’s voice, she was back to that day years before when she’d asked her mother to tell her who her father was and where he lived. She remembered it all so vividly: the tears that wouldn’t stop when her mother refused to tell her, the ache in her stomach at the realization that her mother had kept the truth from her, let her live a lie created by the one person who should have told her the truth.

  From that moment on, her trust in her mother had caused a break that nothing could heal. From that day until she arrived in Eden Harbor, she could never bring herself to believe a word her mother said.

  “Yes. It’s me.” She forced the words out.

  “I’m so glad you’ve called. I’ve missed you terribly. I’m sorry for how we left things. We need to talk.”

  “Mom, you have a whole lot to explain. How could you lie about my father? Why didn’t you say that he lived in Eden Harbor? How could you do this to me?” Her throat hurt.

  “Peggy, I’m sorry, but can we do a video call?” her mother asked softly.

  “What?” she shot back, her anger a hard fist in her chest.

  “Please. I want to see you face-to-face while we talk about my past. Please,” she repeated.

  “Fine.” She slammed the phone down, only to hear the chime from her computer indicating that someone was initiating a video call.

  She went to her computer and accepted it. “That’s better,” her mother said, “Now we can talk.”

  Peggy stared at her mother. She’d changed in the past two years. Peggy couldn’t help but notice that her mother had let her hair go gray, that her skin was sallow and wrinkled. Longing welled up in her, longing and loneliness and a feeling that she’d made some sort of mistake that couldn’t be fixed. Her mother reminded her of the days when life had been simple and fun, of a childhood spent under the adoring gazes of her parents. Her every wish had been addressed, not to say she always got what she wanted, but what she wanted and how she felt had been taken into consideration.

  She shoved all those feelings aside. She couldn’t allow the sudden rush of emotion to change anything. “So, let’s start with why you kept my biological father from me.”

  “Because I couldn’t go back there to Eden Harbor. I’d left it a long time ago, and going back would mean little when my life was with your father...Marcus. We loved each other.” Her mother’s expression was both eager and sad. “Marcus and I had a good life, and you were the center of it. We only wanted what was best for you.”

  “You leave Dad out of this.”

  “I can’t, honey. He was part of everything I did from the moment I met him. Your dad wanted you to be happy. When we met and fell in love, he insisted on having his name on your birth certificate. He wanted to be your father in every way that mattered.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “I understand how hurt you feel.”

  “How could you know what I’m feeling when I’m not sure myself,” she said to her mother, feeling for the first time the depth of need to find someone who would love her.

  “Oh, Peggy, how I’ve missed you. We need to talk about everything. If nothing else, finding out about Bill has given us both a chance to patch things up between us.”

  “Mom, this call isn’t going to change anything.”

  “Maybe not, but before you decide, can I explain a little bit about my past?”

  Peggy didn’t want to hear her mother’s excuses. Yet she needed to know how it was that her mother could have kept her past a secret from her only child. “If you want,” she said with little enthusiasm.

  “There’s a whole lot I haven’t told you.”

  “No kidding.”

  Her mother sighed, her gaze moving to a spot below the computer screen. “I grew up in Eden Harbor. I never felt a part of the community because I was...different. I spent most of my time in my room. My parents were older when I was born, and they didn’t know much about parenting
or about how to help a child who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. I felt completely stifled, and at the same time I couldn’t seem to make friends with anyone. Most of my free time was spent drawing and dreaming. I met your father, Bill Cassidy, in high school. We went together his senior year. He was a jock. I never quite understood why he liked me so much. But that didn’t stop me from dreaming about a life with him somewhere away from Eden Harbor, somewhere we would both be happy.”

  “He told me he loved you very much. Do you not know the difference between like and love, or didn’t you care?” Peggy asked, ashamed of the harsh words but unwilling to apologize.

  “I did care. When Bill went to college, I was excited. I was in twelfth grade, dreaming of the day he’d graduate and come back. Then we’d move to somewhere exciting and where I could follow my dream of being an interior designer.” Her mother’s face filled the screen, tears making her eyes shine. “It never happened. While I worked and waited for Bill in Eden Harbor, he’d decided that he was moving back home. His dream was to graduate from college, marry me and spend the rest of his life in Eden Harbor, where we would raise a family. He didn’t ask me what I wanted, didn’t seem to care how desperate I was to escape a place that held no meaning for me. I felt betrayed by him. I had wasted three years waiting for him while he hadn’t bothered to tell me that he intended to live his life in Eden Harbor. We spent his spring break together, and two months later I knew I was expecting you. I knew if I told him I’d be pressured into staying in Eden Harbor, that my life, my dreams, would be over. Instead, I’d spend my life in a town that felt more like a prison every day.”

  She touched her fingers to the screen. “I didn’t know what else to do. Those three years while Bill was at college, I’d taken a secretarial course and knew I could get a job wherever I wanted to go. I chose Virginia, got a job and enrolled in a program on interior decoration and design. I met Marcus on a blind date arranged by the woman who owned the boardinghouse where I lived. We fell in love, but I knew I had to tell him the truth about being pregnant, even though I was pretty sure he would want out of the relationship.

  “What man would want another man’s child? When I told him, he was excited and happy. He didn’t want out. He wanted you. He wanted me. We were married in a civil ceremony and spent our honeymoon, a long weekend was all the time we could get off, walking the beach and making plans. He... I love him. I miss him every day.” Her mother’s tears brought tears to Peggy’s eyes. The one thing they shared, that they would always share, was their love for Marcus Anderson.

  “Mom, I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about my dad.”

  “Because I was afraid that you would leave me and go to him. I felt ashamed of what I had done, walking out on him like that. I should have handled it differently, but I was panicked by the thought of being forced to remain in Eden Harbor.”

  “Did you hate the place that much?”

  “No, Peggy. It just... I felt that if I stayed, my life was over. I would never have the chance to do what I loved in a small community like that. I felt suffocated by the lack of opportunity.

  “When your dad’s job took him all over the world, I never once complained. I loved it. We both did. Our lives and our marriage were filled with adventure. I’m sure lots of women would have found moving from place to place difficult, but I looked forward to every move. Do you remember when we first learned that Marcus was going to Chile?”

  “How could I forget? You and Dad wanted to send me to boarding school.”

  “We both wanted you to have a stable upbringing like we did. I think deep down we felt guilty that because we loved each other so much, and our lifestyle fit us so well, we hadn’t given you a chance to know what it felt like to stay in one place.”

  “But you just said you didn’t like your stable upbringing. Why would you think I’d want to be stuck in a boarding school?” she asked then wished she hadn’t. “Never mind. It’s all in the past.”

  They stared at each other. “Peggy, I apologize for not telling you about Bill Cassidy. I made a lot of mistakes, and you had to bear the brunt of them. Sometimes I imagine what I might or could have done differently, but each time I realize that there’s no going back. I did what I did. Now I’m paying the price.”

  “Are you trying to make this my fault?” Peggy asked angrily.

  “No! Never! I take full responsibility for everything I did. And for what it’s worth, I should have told you a long time ago about your biological father. It would have been easy to do after Marcus died. I didn’t and I’m so sorry.”

  “So where does that leave me?” Peggy asked.

  “You mean about Bill?”

  “Yes, about Bill.”

  “I’m hardly the one to be giving you advice after the way I’ve behaved. But if I were you, I’d want to get to know him, to learn everything I could about him. The Bill Cassidy I knew and I loved was a nice man, a decent, honest person.”

  “So why didn’t you talk to him, tell him how you felt about living in Eden Harbor?”

  “Because Bill was a very convincing person. When he made a commitment to something, he stuck by his decision. I knew there was little hope that he’d change his mind. I couldn’t stay with him if it meant living in Eden Harbor.”

  “You didn’t really love him, or you would have been honest with him about your feelings.”

  Ellen sighed, rubbed her forehead and gazed into the screen. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t love him enough to give up my dream. Maybe we both weren’t being honest with each other, and our lack of honesty had an impact on you that we didn’t really think about. I’m dreadfully sorry for what I did.”

  “Mom, Bill Cassidy had no choice in the matter. But you did. You made mistakes that hurt two people.”

  “You’re right. But we can’t change the past, can we?”

  “No, we can’t. All I know for certain is that I’m happy here, or was until I learned about my biological father. I don’t know what to do, Mom.”

  “Peggy, please don’t make a hasty decision like I did. It’s not that I would have made a different decision, but life-altering choices need to be shared with those we love. I should have talked to Bill about what was going on, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to leave before he got home so that he couldn’t talk me into changing my mind. But for you, it’s not too late to have a relationship with him. Think about what you want out of life. You’re happy there. So is Bill. Make that a starting place for both of you.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Peggy, I miss you. I’d love to see you sometime.”

  She saw the naked longing in her mother’s eyes, and a huge lump rose in her throat. “Mom, I miss you, too. It’s just that you hurt me so much.”

  “I wish Marcus and I had told you the truth as soon as you were old enough to understand. Not telling you seemed the right thing to do at the time. Marcus was your father in every way but blood.” Ellen ran her hand through her graying hair. “Bill never tried to get in touch with me after I left Eden Harbor. When I discovered I was pregnant, I was already going out with Marcus. I never knew anyone like your father, and when he insisted that we put his name on your birth certificate, it seemed like the best thing to do for everyone,” she stated again.

  “For everyone? What about Bill Cassidy? What about me? Didn’t we deserve the truth from both of you?”

  Her mother’s anxious smile faltered. “We were such a happy family. Somehow telling you about Bill didn’t seem to matter.”

  “Matter? I don’t get it.”

  “I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I find talking to a screen like this so difficult. I’d really like a chance to talk to you in person. Do you think we could? I’d send you the ticket to come to Seattle to visit. I miss you. Everyone here misses you.”

  “Mom, I’ve got enough on my plate right now. First I have to figure out what to do about Bill Cassidy.”

  Her mother’s sad expression almost made P
eggy relent.

  “Peggy, whatever I can do to help, I’ll do. I’m here, always, if you want to talk. I love you.”

  Looking into her mother’s face, seeing how she’d aged in the two years since she’d seen her, feelings of loss, of missed time together filled her. “I love you, too, Mom.”

  Her mother’s gaze was suddenly intense as she looked at Peggy. “I...I wonder. Are you all right?”

  “Me? What do you mean?”

  “I’ve always been able to know when something is bothering you. And something is now. Are you? Have you been ill?”

  Peggy wanted to deny her mother this confirmation that she was right. It had always been this way between her and her mother. The day she realized that Marcus wasn’t her biological father, she’d planned to keep it from her mom, believing that the grief of losing Marcus would prevent her mother from knowing that something was wrong.

  It hadn’t. Her mother had known something was up the day she walked into the house after getting the DNA test results back and learning that the man she’d loved as her father all those years wasn’t related to her by blood. “Mom, I had a breast biopsy a couple of days ago.”

  Her mother’s hands flew to her face. Tears spilled from her eyes. “No! I’m so sorry. Was it...?”

  “No. It was a benign cyst.”

  “Thank heaven.”

  There was a long, protracted silence. Neither woman said anything while they stared at each other on screen. Telling her mother she’d had the biopsy opened the door to the need to tell her mother other things, about her life, how she enjoyed her job, whether her mother still loved her work as an interior designer, that Peggy’s house was a Craftsman house, a love they both shared. She wanted to talk about all of it, but the past they shared, the anger she’d felt for so long held her back.

  The past still held the power to hold her away from her mother.

  * * *

  BILL CASSIDY DROVE around for a while before heading back to his house, a hundred-year-old three-story house downtown that he bought the minute it came on the market twenty years ago. When he finally pulled into the driveway and clicked open the garage door, exhaustion deadened his limbs. How had his life been reduced to this? To the anger and need for revenge against a woman he’d once loved with all his heart.

 

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