Norman Anderson was older than Poppy had pictured, close to Maida’s age, she guessed, but he looked every bit as down-to-earth and decent as she had been led to expect. He also looked vulnerable, which would have surprised her if she hadn’t been even more surprised by his companion.
* * *
Micah struggled not to think about what was taking place in Florida, because too much was at stake, and he had no control over any of it—not the least of it being this fourteen-year-old daughter of Heather’s. He couldn’t help but resent the fact that a child whom Heather had given up at birth should now hold such complete power, and not only over Heather’s life, but over his and his daughters’ lives as well. That didn’t seem right.But the world was full of “didn’t-seem-rights,” not the least of which were Rob DiCenza’s mistreatment of Heather, her arrest for his murder,and an ice storm that threatened to ruin Micah’s crop. Unable to do anything about the first two that Tuesday, he focused on the sugarbush. Another dozen men from town had shown up, and they spent the morning working different sections of the woods. With the mainline repaired and carrying sap enough to boil, and the lines deeper in the bush being cleared of debris one by one and fixed, he was feeling more optimistic by lunchtime. While Griffin led the teams back up to the sugarbush that afternoon, he stayed behind to boil what was trickling down.
He fired up the arch. He got the sap moving through reverse osmosis and into the evaporator, got it boiling from the back pan, through the front pan, into the finish pan. When it was nearly syrup, he turned on the filter press. That was when he ran into the latest “didn’t-seem-right.” The filter press was the only piece of machinery that relied on electricity, and there still was no electricity today. He hadn’t been concerned, however, because he had a backup generator. Now, just when he needed it, the generator wouldn’t start.
* * *
One look at Heather’s daughter, and Poppy lost her breath. She didn’t need an introduction; Althea Anderson didn’t have her mother’s silver eyes, certainly not that telltale scar, but the resemblance was everywhere else. Mother and daughter had the same long, thick hair, the same heart-shaped face, straight eyebrows, and slight build.Poppy put a hand to her heart. She couldn’t take her eyes off the child. Child? Thea was fourteen going on twenty-two. She was gently developed, sweetly curved, and dressed in a miniskirt and sweater that were very possibly Italian and surprisingly discreet. Her whole manner was refined. Calling her a teenager seemed wrong. She was very much a young woman.
Disciplining herself, Poppy tried to focus on the other introductions, but there were eight people in the room. Had it not been for a natural division in the seating arrangement around the large conference table, she wouldn’t have been able to keep straight whose lawyers were whose. But she nodded in acknowledgment as each name was given, did the samewith Norman Anderson, then with Thea. And there her eyes stayed, and stayed, and stayed.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, but in a breathy way, because she was feeling choked up. “You are just so much like your mother. You’re very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Thea whispered, seeming unsure despite a tentative smile.
As Susan gave a bare-bones description of the case Cassie was hoping to make on behalf of Heather with the people in California, Poppy tried to imagine what she would be feeling if she were in Thea’s shoes. By virtue of the biological reality, a mother-child relationship was intrinsically intimate. If Poppy had been adopted, she would want to know about her birth mother—not necessarily live with her or love her, but know about her.
The lawyers went back and forth then—about legalities, about confidentiality, about constitutional guarantees and juvenile rights. Poppy listened, but her eyes kept returning to Thea, and Thea’s met them every time. She didn’t seem as interested in what the lawyers were saying as Poppy thought she would be. Then she realized that Thea had heard it all before. There was no surprise here. What there was, was curiosity. If Poppy were to guess, the girl wanted to know about Heather.
Her father was quiet, leaving it to his lawyer to counter Susan McDermott’s plea for immediate cooperation, and it was much as Cassie had said it would be. The Andersons’ lawyer talked about the visibility of the case. He talked about the potential sordidness as details emerged, certainly about the tragedy of it. He argued against rushing, when it came to involving a child like Thea.
Involving a child like Thea? Poppy couldn’t let the statement go unchallenged. “I’m surprised she’s here now. I would have thought you would want to shield her even from this.”
Norman Anderson answered in a patient but firm way. “My daughter has a mind of her own. She’s been following this case in the news. She wanted to be here.”
“Has she always known who her biological parents are?”
“She’s always known she was adopted,” her father said. “I hadn’t realized she knew the identity of her birth mother until a few days ago.”
When Thea slid him a guilty look, Poppy decided against asking the details of that. It didn’t matter how Thea had learned that Heather was her birth mother. What mattered was that she didn’t seem traumatized by what had happened.
“Heather has a mind of her own, too,” Poppy told the girl. “She wouldn’t tell any of us that she’d had a child, because she didn’t want to involve you in this. We had to get your name from someone else, because she doesn’t know it. She doesn’t feel she has a right to, since she gave you up. She knew you had parents who loved you, and she’s grateful for that. She came to Lake Henry with nothing of her past except a little backpack with a letter from the law firm that handled the adoption, and this.” She dug the tiny plastic ID bracelet from her bag and held it out over the table.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” the Andersons’ lawyer began. It became a moot point when Thea reached across the table and took the bracelet.
Good for you! Poppy wanted to tell the girl, because if letting her see her own baby bracelet wasn’t appropriate, Poppy didn’t know what was. Clearly, the lawyer didn’t want the bracelet introduced because it was a personal connection that just might get Thea identifying with Heather, which was precisely why Poppy had brought the bracelet along.
Thea studied it closely.
The lawyer went back to his initial argument. “The issue is time. Let’s be frank. We all understand that Althea may have to be involved at some point. We simply want to make sure that, prior to that, every safeguard is in place to protect her.”
Susan McDermott reiterated the reasons why speed was needed, and they went back and forth. When it appeared that neither side would budge, Susan suggested that they take a short break.
Frustrated, Poppy wheeled herself down the hall to the ladies’ room. She had just emerged from the largest stall and was approaching the sink when Thea slipped into the room and eased the door closed.
Her eyes were large, filled with a curiosity. “Is she beautiful?” she whispered.
Poppy nodded. “She is. Wait.” She washed and dried her hands, then pulled pictures from her bag. They were the ones Griffin had taken with him to Minneapolis. Watching Thea’s face as she turned from one to the next was a sight in itself.
“I’ve seen pictures in the news,” the girl said, “but it isn’t the same. She’s happy in these.”
“She has a happy life. She’s a lovely person, Thea, beautiful inside and out, and she would do absolutely nothing to hurt you. For the record, she doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Why did you come?”
“She’s my best friend. There were times when I’d have given up after the accident that put me in this chair, but she wouldn’t let me do that.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Snowmobile.”
“Was she there when it happened?”
“She came minutes later.”
“You said she didn’t know my name. Doesn’t she want to?”
Poppy knew Heather well enough to answer. “She wants to, bu
t she knows it’s not smart. Letting you go was too painful. Knowing your name would make you real, and then she would want to know more, maybe want to meet you and get to know you. But you have your own life. She won’t intrude on that.”
“Does she know my mother died?”
“No.”
Suddenly sounding more her age, Thea said, “I snuck the adoption papers from Mom’s drawer right after she died, and, like, I didn’t want to do anything with them, I just wanted to have them, y’know? I thought my dad would be upset, so I didn’t say anything until this week, but I knew he was following the news, and I wanted him to know I was, too.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Ninth. I go to a private school.”
Poppy figured she was young for the grade. “I’ll bet you’re smart.”
Thea gave a modest shrug. “Is she? Heather? What does she do?”
“You name it. She cooks. She’s good with her hands—she knits and sews. She decorates the house.”
“I can’t do those things. What’s her best school subject?”
“I didn’t know her when she was in school, but she uses her computer a lot, and she’s kind of the business manager for Micah, so math is definitely a strong suit.”
“Mine, too,” Thea said eagerly, then frowned. “My mom died of cancer. Does Heather have anything like that?”
“No. She gets bad colds, but that’s all.”
“Me, too. That’s so incredible. My dad never gets colds.”
“He seems like a wonderful man.”
“He is. He’s so cool. Like letting me come here today. That’s why he made the meeting earlier, so I could do it during lunch hour. A lot of parents wouldn’t do that. I watched all the stuff about your town. It looks incredible.”
“We’re in the middle of a crisis right now. We had an ice storm that may ruin the sugar season.”
“Sugar season?”
“Maple sap, maple sugar, maple syrup.”
Thea singled out the photograph of Heather and Micah. “His business?”
“Hers, too. She’s his muse.”
Thea leaned against the sink, seeming to settle in for a while. “Tell me about a day in her life—like, what time she gets up, what she has for breakfast, what she does after that, you know.”
Susan opened the ladies’ room door and murmured a discreet, “There’s a little concern out here.”
Poppy could have gone on for a while. She felt the same rapport with Thea that she had always felt with Heather. But the girl was fourteen, and the current meeting was supposed to be protecting her from the past. Though Poppy didn’t think she needed protecting, she didn’t want to create tension between Thea and her father.
“Okay. I’d better start back,” she said, and wheeled out.
* * *
Thea still had the pictures. Slipping them into the little leather pouch that hung by her hip, she pushed a hand up through her hair, waited aminute longer, then went out the door. Her father was waiting down the hall, looking worried.“Are you okay, pumpkin?” he asked in the gentle, soft-spoken way she loved.
She nodded as she came alongside him. “Are you?”
He smiled sadly and waggled a hand. “It’s odd hearing about her, different from reading the paper.”
“Does it bother you?” She knew he might be feeling threatened; she had been in enough Internet chat rooms on the subject of adoption to be aware of that. She wouldn’t hurt him for the world. “If it does,” she assured him, “I won’t ask anything more. I love you. You’re my dad.”
“I know, sweetie. I know.”
“But it’s kind of exciting, don’t you think?” she asked, because the idea of it all was bubbling up inside her. “It’s like discovering a long-lost relative—and for you, too, because you’re my dad, so in a way, she’s related to you, too.”
He looked unsure, worried again.
“I don’t think she killed him,” Thea said.
“But he died. I’m sorry you have to think about that.”
“He’s been dead so long, he isn’t real to me. It could be a movie, like he’s a character in someone else’s life.” Her mother, on the other hand, was alive and very real.
“Still,” Norman said, “I’d rather your birth parents had gone on to lead happy and healthy lives.”
Thea took his hand. “That’s because you’re a good person, and because you love me. No one could be a better dad for me than you.”
Drawing in a breath, he threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Then, with the same let’s-go-get-’em look that he used when he was heading off to a meeting of the shareholders of the bank, he cocked his head toward the conference room.
Chapter Twenty
While Susan called Cassie with the good news, Poppy left the firm with the Andersons.“Would you like to see where I live?” Thea had asked at the end of the meeting, and Poppy couldn’t have possibly said no. Thea hadn’t asked out of politeness; there was genuine eagerness there. Poppy shared the eagerness. She wanted to see as much as she could, so that she would have answers if Heather asked.
Norman Anderson had a uniformed driver, but he drove a town car rather than a limo. Poppy and Thea sat in back, with Poppy’s chair and carry-on in the trunk. The car was no sooner away from the curb, when Norman put an arm back over the seat and said to his daughter, “You’re supposed to be going back to school.”
“For a French review, but I’m okay, Dad. I know enough for the test. I really don’t need to review, and if I find that I do, I’ll call Tiffany. She’s smarter than I am.”
Norman gave her a dubious look and turned to Poppy. “That last is questionable. But how do you argue with your daughter on something like this when she’s going into the exam with an A average in an honors course?”
That was how Poppy learned that math wasn’t Thea’s only strong subject. She learned that Thea’s school was an international one, when they drove past the stucco complex and Thea stuck her head out the window to exchange enthusiastic waves with a markedly diverse group on the steps. Poppy saw the house where Thea had spent her youngest years,saw the park where Thea’s mother had taken her to play, saw the stores where they had shopped. She saw the club where Norman played golf and Thea played tennis. She saw the movie theater, restaurant, and record store that Thea favored, because Thea was directing the tour. The girl gave Poppy a running narration, as she instructed the driver where to turn.
Poppy decided that if extroversion was inherited, Thea took hers from her birth father, since Heather was more quiet. Poppy might have resented it, if the girl hadn’t been so adorable.
Then the car turned in at the gates of the community where Thea and her father lived now, and there was no way Poppy could protest. She had already given up on making the 4:19 flight, and there was time before she had to be at the airport for the 6:30 one.
“I think I need to call my guy,” Poppy said and dug into her bag for the phone. My guy. It was so cool to say that. So easy. So normal.
“What’s his name?” Thea asked with enthusiasm.
“Griffin. Griffin Hughes.”
Norman glanced back. “Griffin Hughes? Any relation to Piper?”
“His son. Do you know Piper?”
“Our paths have crossed,” he said in a way that suggested a positive force. “I didn’t know he had a son living in Lake Henry.”
“Griffin actually lives in New Jersey, but he’s been in Lake Henry helping Micah out with sugaring, what with Heather not there and all.” She punched out the number. “The ice storm’s been a nightmare. Griffin dropped me at the airport this morning and was heading back to clear more debris from the sugarbush.” Griffin’s line began to ring. “Once the fallen limbs are cleared, the tubing can be repaired, and once that’s done, sap will start flowing to the sugarhouse again.”
“Hey,” Griffin said.
Poppy grinned, looked down, and lowered her voice for a little privacy. “Hey yourself. Did you hear?
”
“Sure did. Congratulations, honey. You did good.”
“It wasn’t me,” she said softly. “Is Micah pleased?”
“You bet. He’s holding his breath that Cassie can make a deal. She’s working on it as we speak. Meantime, Micah’s making syrup again.”
“Did the lights come back on?”
“No, and his generator is on the fritz, so he’s doing the filtering by hand. He’s apt to drop from exhaustion, but at least the sap isn’t lost. Are you at the airport?”
Thea touched her elbow and pointed as they pulled in at a low, sprawling house.
“No. I’ll take the later plane. The Andersons are giving me the cook’s tour of their lives. We’ve just pulled up at their house. It’s even on one level,” she added with a wink for Thea.
“You’ll be on the six-thirty then?”
“Uh-huh. Are you sure it isn’t too late for you? You were up early.”
“So were you. Are you tired?”
“A little.”
“Did you manage everything okay?”
“Totally. I have to run, Griffin. I’ll call again on my way to the airport.”
“Please. I love you.”
She paused for only half a second. “Me, too.” Before he could respond to that, she pushed the end button and dropped the phone in her bag.
Moments later, from the comfort of her wheelchair, Poppy toured Thea’s home. She saw the girl’s bedroom, which was green, gold, and tasteful, and the adjoining bathroom, which was twice the size of Poppy’s. She saw the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, and the den. Thea was the guide here, too, introducing her to a maid and a cook along the way. When the tour was done, they went out to the patio and sat by the pool.
Poppy would have loved to sit silently and enjoy the warm air and summery scents, if there hadn’t been so much to say. Thea wanted to know anything and everything about Lake Henry, and Poppy wanted to know about Thea’s favorite foods, favorite bands, favorite sports. The cook brought lemonade. Norman was in and out.
An Accidental Woman Page 36