by Dawn Atkins
“You cheated on Dad?” Tara blurted.
“We weren’t together at the time. We’d broken up.”
“But Faye was born months after you were married....” Her words trailed off, the answer obvious. Her mother had been pregnant when they married. Another jolt.
“We told everyone she was premature,” her mother said. “We had to say that. Your father’s family...their status...we had no choice.”
“So you and Dad broke up...then you dated Sean?” The words sounded strange to Tara’s ears, felt like hard marbles on her tongue.
“I thought it was over with your father. I was devastated and Sean was kind.”
“Kind?” The word held Sean’s usual bitterness. “I was in love with you, Rachel. And you loved me, too. When Abbott called, you ran to him. You chose money over love.”
“That’s not fair,” she said sharply, head up, her shame diminished for a moment. “You wanted me because he wanted me. You always envied him.”
“That’s not true.” Sean jutted his jaw.
“I chose a life I could count on. You were restless and moody. Abbott knew what he wanted for himself and in a wife. I needed that. I needed a safe place. I grew up in chaos. I wanted security.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” he said gruffly.
“It was too late, Sean.”
Everything about this moment was surreal to Tara. Revealing this terrible secret, her mother’s voice was more natural and her demeanor more open than Tara had ever seen or heard. But she still didn’t know what had caused that night’s events.
“So Faye told Dad?” Tara guessed.
“No. I made her swear she wouldn’t. Abbott accidentally found the results. The envelope from the genetics company got stuck between two folders Faye gave him at work.”
With a jolt, Tara pictured the address on the envelope in her father’s bloody shirt pocket. CGC Gen was all she’d been able to see. She’d assumed it was some technology firm—Gen part of Generator. Instead it had been Genetics. She remembered the books on his desk on the subject, too.
“Abbott was furious,” Tara’s mother said, her eyes going distant. “On principle. Abbott and his principles. Forget people when there were rules to be followed, a high moral ground to march on. He wanted a divorce. He wanted to destroy everything we’d built, all we’d achieved. Faye tried to calm him down, reassure him that he was still her father, that knowing didn’t change anything.”
Tara remembered the text on her father’s phone.
Nothing changes. Let it go.
“What happened that night, Mom? Before the accident?” Tara asked, dreading what she would hear. Her heart thudded so hard she could hardly hear her mother over the beat.
As if he’d read her mind, Dylan moved beside her and put a warm hand to her back, grounding her. He’d been with her through every trauma in her life, she realized. Even the one he’d caused.
“Abbott wouldn’t let it go. He decided you had to know.” She looked at Sean, who stood still as stone, as if he expected a firing squad to take aim any second. “What was the point? Why cause you pain, too?”
Sean didn’t move or speak, but Tara could feel his anger, his hurt. Her mother must have, too, because her voice went high and desperate. “It was one night forty years ago, Sean. You never asked. We hardly spoke in all those years. You didn’t want to know. Abbott was Faye’s father in all the ways that mattered.”
She turned her gaze back to Tara. “Faye wanted me to go with Abbott to talk to Sean, to make sure they didn’t lose their tempers, destroy the peace they’d come to.” Her mother stopped and took harsh breaths, clearly fighting her emotions.
“I should have gone. I know that now. But I was angry at Faye, hurt that she’d turned against me, that she’d torn us apart at the seams, put my marriage at risk. I told her that she had caused this mess, she would have to live with the consequences.”
Her mother’s eyes flicked from person to person, as if seeking asylum in some face, begging someone to take her side. No one spoke.
“Faye exploded at me. I’d never seen her so angry. She called me selfish and cruel. She said I lied to myself and everyone else, and the lies had ruined my marriage, ruined our family. Such terrible things.” Her mother shook her head. “Then she said she was going with her father to talk to Sean. I told her if she did that, she was no longer my daughter. She’d hurt me so deeply. Don’t you see? She’d betrayed me. She chose her father over me, Sean over me, blamed me for everything.”
Her mother began to cry again. “But she was right. I was selfish and cruel. And I was punished. I killed my husband and almost killed her.”
Tara, Dylan and Joseph stood in shocked silence, while Tara’s mother sobbed quietly in the chair beside a sleeping Faye. Dylan rubbed Tara’s back in slow circles, reminding her that he’d promised to be whatever she needed.
He’d kept that promise from the moment they’d first talked.
He’d helped her investigate the accident and now she knew the truth—all the truth. The accident happened because of confused ideas about love and loyalty—both in her mother and in Matt Sutherland.
There was one final mystery. “Did you empty Dad’s desk of files?” Tara asked.
“I couldn’t find the genetics report. There were papers about the divorce, I knew. I didn’t know what other terrible item was there, so I shredded it all. It had to be gone. It was all a mistake.” Her mother made a wiping gesture with her hands.
Her mother’s behavior horrified Tara. All her decisions had been aimed at hiding, lying, keeping secrets she shouldn’t have, shredding the truth right and left, culminating in running away from the accident she’d caused.
“Wha... Is... Where...am...?”
Faye’s words were a whispered rasp in the silence. They all turned to stare at her. She blinked, looking startled.
“You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident,” Tara said.
Faye touched her throat.
“You’re thirsty! Right.” Tara grabbed the plastic cup of water Rita had placed there for when Faye awoke.
Faye nodded against the pillow, still blinking, still confused.
With shaking fingers, Tara put the straw between her sister’s lips. When she’d finished, Tara set down the cup. “Welcome back. We missed you. All of us.” Tara nodded toward the people now crowded around the bed—Joseph, their mother, Dylan and Sean, the father Faye had barely learned about.
Would she remember the accident? Did she know her father was dead? Would she remember them?
“Baby.” Joseph dropped to his knees beside the bed and grabbed Faye’s hands, pressing them to his mouth. “Do you know me?”
She nodded slowly, as if just awakened from anesthesia. “Jo...seph.”
“And me?” Tara had to ask. “You recognize me?”
“My...sis...ter.” Her eyes moved over all of them. “Mom...?”
Her mother sucked in a breath, then turned and left the room.
“You...here...all...” Faye said, then her eyelids dropped.
“The neurologist said she would sleep a lot at first,” Tara explained. “It’s hard work to stay awake. We should let Joseph have some time.” She motioned for Sean and Dylan to step out with her.
She didn’t know what she would say to her mother. Her feelings were in turmoil. They found her in the hall, pale as a ghost, frozen outside the room the way she’d been when she’d first arrived. “I can’t face her,” she said to Tara. “Not after what I did. I killed her father and left her to die. She’ll never forgive me. She shouldn’t.”
As angry as she was at her mother, Tara thought of Faye’s words. When you love someone, you forgive them. That’s how Faye lived her life. “Faye loves you, Mom,” she said. “She will forgive you. I know that.”
Her mother’s gaze locked on, digging at Tara, testing the truth of her words. Finally she said, “You don’t lie, do you?”
“No.”
“Thank you,�
�� she said.
“You can face her, Rachel,” Sean said. “You have to.”
Tara’s mother’s gaze shifted to meet Sean’s. Something passed between them, something from the past, something they’d shared, and her mother seemed to gather her composure, stand taller, look certain. Turning her gaze to Tara, her mother spoke solemnly, as if the moment with Sean had given her new strength. “Will you take me to the police station, Tara? I have to turn myself in. I should be punished for what I did. It was unforgivable.”
Tara didn’t know what to say to her mother. Her thoughts were jumbled, her feelings confused, most of them harsh. Then she looked at Dylan. His eyes held compassion and tenderness for Tara.
You know how to love, he’d told her. He said he’d admired her efforts to make peace with her mother. He believed in her. It was time she believed in herself. Tara let her own compassion rise to the surface and override her hurt and anger. Her mother had done a terrible thing, but she was willing to answer for it. Tara was proud of her. And, more than that, she loved her. “Faye will forgive you, Mom. And I forgive you, too.” The words rang in Tara’s ears, truer every second that passed.
She forgave her mother for the childhood hurts, the constant criticism, the indifference and for the terrible accident that had devastated their family.
“You do?” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “You forgive me?”
“Yes. That’s what people who love each other do,” she said, glancing at Dylan, her voice about to crack. “They focus on the good. They work around flaws. They don’t walk away.”
“Tara,” Dylan said, so much feeling in his voice her heart seemed to lock in her chest.
“You’re more like your sister than I realized,” her mother said, tears actually sliding down her cheeks. She touched Tara’s hair with shaking fingers. “I’m getting used to this style.” She gave a hesitant smile.
“You’re not turning yourself in to Bill Fallon,” Tara said. “He broke the law urging you to leave the scene. That doesn’t excuse what you did, but it was a factor.” Would her mother go to prison? The thought made Tara’s stomach drop.
“You need to get your attorney on this,” Sean said gruffly. “Make sure you protect your rights. For now, we’ll take you home.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said, looking at him. “About Faye. I’m sorry, Sean. I did what I thought was best.”
“It’s not right what you did. I need time to think it through.”
“Of course,” she said humbly, then turned with Sean toward the elevator. He placed a hand on her back.
“I’ll be there in a bit,” Dylan said, staying with Tara. After the elevator closed on their parents, Dylan turned to her. “I’m so glad Faye’s awake.”
“Me, too. I don’t know if she’ll remember the accident or how it came about, or about her father. She might not know that Dad was killed.”
“What she doesn’t remember, you’ll tell her. You and your mother.”
“There’s a lot to tell. Are you as shocked by all this as I am?” Her head was still spinning.
“I am. I can’t believe your mom and my dad...”
“I know. It explains why they were so frosty to each other when we were growing up. My mom kept that secret all these years. And look what she did to protect it. It’s hard to accept.” She swallowed over a dry throat.
“What you said to her was beautiful,” Dylan said, his eyes warm on her face, almost glowing. “That you forgave her and why.”
“I remembered what you said about me—that I did know how to love. When I looked at you, I felt this rush of love for her, for you. So I said what I said and I believe it.”
“You’re a better person than you were, Tara.”
“And so are you.” Staring into his eyes, she got a start. “You have Faye’s eyes. Yours are smoky, but they’re the same gray-green.”
Dylan smiled. “It makes sense, since she’s my sister. Half sister anyway.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’m honored. Faye’s a great person. Though it’s still a shock.”
“No kidding. Your father surprised me. He seemed calmer, less angry somehow.”
“Exactly. The way he looked at your mom... His whole demeanor changed. It was like a deep wound had suddenly started to heal.”
“He resented my father for a lot more than buying his company at a rock-bottom price,” Tara said.
“And let that fester inside him all these years.” Dylan shook his head in sad wonder.
“He got trapped in the past,” Tara said, recognizing the experience.
“It happens,” he said with a smile.
“It does,” she said.
“But it doesn’t have to limit us. We can learn from the past, from who we were then and become better. Hell, we can reinterpret the past.”
“Turn suffocating into cozy and nosy to friendly?” She smiled, feeling a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Dylan was right. They’d let themselves get trapped in how they’d been, in the old hurt.
Their eyes met for a long, silent moment. “I sure as hell don’t want to end up like my father.”
“Or me like my mother.”
“We won’t,” he said firmly. He put his hands on her cheeks. “I’ve got to go now, and you’ve got a lot to handle. In a day or two, I want us to talk.”
“I’d like that, too.” Could they possibly try again? Could they forgive each other, trust each other? Could she stay the independent woman she’d worked so hard to become while being with Dylan in Wharton?
Dylan watched her face. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in me telling you not to think this to death, is there?”
She laughed. “It’s scary how well you know me.”
“Scary good, I hope.”
“Very good.” And she hoped he’d know her even better in the future.
* * *
“MAYBE WE SHOULD WAIT,” Dylan’s father said to him, stopping short at the entrance to the hospital. “Maybe tomorrow would be better.”
“It was your idea to come. To support Rachel, remember?”
Faye had been awake for three days. She’d been asking about the accident and Rachel was going to tell her what had happened today.
His father had changed since the revelation that Faye was his daughter. He seemed kinder, more open-hearted than Dylan remembered him, even when he was young.
As a result, the talk about changing Ryland Engineering had gone more smoothly than Dylan had even hoped. It was as if his father’s old resentments, his bitterness, had melted away.
“She’s not going to tell Faye who I am yet,” Sean said. “But if it slips out, I want to be there to back her up.”
Faye hadn’t remembered anything about the accident or the events that had preceded it. Tara had told him the plan was to reveal things gradually, letting Faye adjust in between.
“You think she’ll be ashamed to have me as blood?” Sean turned to Dylan and frowned. “I’m no Wharton. I came up from nothing.”
“Faye doesn’t think like that. She wanted you and Abbott to talk, remember? She wanted her mother to tell the truth.”
“That’s right. Faye’s a good egg. Solid. The best of the bunch over there, I always said.” His father’s face just plain lit up. Dylan felt a tightness in his chest. Seeing his father’s heart expand these past days had restored so much of their old closeness. He would always be grateful to Tara for bringing this about.
His father stopped walking and turned to him. “You’re still my son. That doesn’t change. So don’t you go feeling left out.”
“I don’t, Dad,” he said, hiding his smile.
“And you know I loved your mother....”
“I know that, Dad.”
“Rachel was from a different time in my life. I know I made mistakes. With Rachel. And with your mother.”
This new humility was like a fresh breeze blowing through their relationship. Dylan couldn’t get enough of the
positive changes his father was showing. He would always be obstinate, opinionated and moody, but the burden of resentment and regret was lighter every day. “Do you still have feelings for Rachel?” he asked.
His father shot him a look, his face bright pink. “Too much time has passed. We both moved on.”
“Don’t give up before you’ve even tried, Dad.”
Sean seemed to ponder that, his lips twitching with a smile he was fighting.
Dylan intended to take his own advice with Tara. They could shake off the old hurts and start fresh. He planned to tell her so today. Sweat made his hands clammy. He was as nervous as his father.
There were obstacles—geography and career demands topping the list—but that wouldn’t stop them. They were two smart, stubborn people. Why couldn’t they be smart and stubborn when it came to each other?
“You ready?” Dylan said, hitting the elevator button.
“As I’ll ever be.” Determination showed in his face.
Same here.
* * *
“MAYBE IT’S TOO soon,” Tara’s mother said, stopping just past the nurses’ station, making the foil crackle on the plate of Ruthie’s empanadas Judith had insisted her mother bring to Faye to put some meat on her bones. Judith had told Tara her praise of Ruthie’s cooking at Ruby’s had helped convince Ruthie to take the job with the food truck in Tucson, after all.
“Maybe this will set back her healing,” her mother finished.
“She’s asking. She deserves the truth.” Faye had surprised the doctors with the speed of her recovery. Even Rita was impressed.
Her mother turned to her. “I don’t think I can handle it today. She’s been so sweet so far. After this, I don’t know.”
“Trust Faye, Mom. You know the kind of person she is.”
“And now she’ll know the kind of person I am.” Her mother’s face sagged. “So will everyone in town. I’ll never survive the scandal. All my good works will come to nothing because of what I did.”
“That’s not true. Your real friends will stick. Your charity work speaks for you. Your past doesn’t have to define you.” That was her lesson, too.