A Reason to Forget (The Camdyn Series Book 3)

by Christina Coryell

  Maybe he’s right, to a certain extent, but the list of things to forgive her for grew even longer today. Hannah is definitely my sister – there isn’t a doubt in my mind. On top of that, when I think about my grandmother spending all that time here on her knees simply because Rita was being selfish…

  “Bleh,” I whispered, looking down at that red journal in my hands. The evidence was staring me in the face, wasn’t it? My great-grandmother had forgiven, that journal said, and if she could do it…

  No, I’m just not there.

  Flipping the book to that last page I had read, I carefully pulled back the page that followed, a little sad that the handwritten story was over, and all that faced me was a blank lined sheet. Thumbing across to the page that followed, I located one last handwritten page, but this wasn’t part of the story of my great-grandmother. Instead, it was poured out of my own grandmother’s heart:

  Dear Darlene,

  My heart is heavy when I think of the ways I failed you, and the things I would tell you if I could see you face to face one more time.

  Do you know that your dad and I searched for you? That we are still searching for you, two years later? I still hope to see your face when I stop by the bus station with your picture, asking in vain whether people recognize you. I suppose I know in my heart that you wouldn’t come back here, of all places, but that doesn’t keep me from scanning every crowd.

  I know you want to see the world and experience all that life has to offer, and you didn’t want to be tied down. It is difficult for me to imagine now that your desire not to be a wife or a mother is what drove us apart. What I told you those two years ago in the car is still what I feel today – you don’t have to make a name for yourself to be someone. I hope someday you realize the truth in that statement. Being a wife and a mother have been the greatest joys of my life, and maybe one day you will experience that for yourself. When you do, please know that I am happy for you not because I was proven right, but simply because I love you.

  I’m not sure what I should have done differently, Darlene, but I am sorry for the time we have lost together. We should be enjoying our sunny Sunday picnics in the backyard like old times, instead of spending our lives as strangers.

  Whatever you have done is in the past. I hope I get the chance to say that to you, my dear, but if you are reading this letter in the journal, then it probably means I never got that chance. If that is the case, at the very least, I hope you read my sentiments here and know what was in my heart. The past is behind me, and I have forgiven your harsh words, as I hope you have forgiven mine.

  You will always be my beautiful girl, and my heart breaks fresh every morning when I wake to the prospect of never seeing you again. I only wish I could tell you that your life matters to me, Darlene. Every moment of it, and the direction of it, and the whole scope of it. From your first breath to your last, I have always loved you, and I always will.

  With all my heart,

  Mom

  I’m not going to lie – I sat there in that sanctuary for about five minutes and cried like a dope. Rita had abandoned Isabel the same way she left me, and she certainly didn’t deserve the kind of love and acceptance that had been extended to her in that letter.

  None of us deserve forgiveness, I heard Father Anthony’s words in my head again.

  Maybe not, but Rita is certainly less deserving than most, will you at least give me that?

  The sound of silence, with the exception of my own quiet sniffling, was rather deafening, and I rose to my feet and stared at the front of the sanctuary for a couple of seconds, gathering my thoughts. There was nothing to be done about Rita at present, and as usual, contemplating her seemed to only cause me more consternation. Shaking my head slightly, I attempted to remove her from my mind.

  Stop it – full stop, I demanded myself, stepping towards the front door so I could walk back out into the sunshine.

  What I needed was a diversion.

  I needed to find Hannah.

  Chapter Seventeen

  My phone search easily turned up Hannah Camden’s workplace, and I only drove in circles twice before I found the law firm in question. Pulling Grandpa’s blue sedan right in front of the building, I stepped out onto the pavement in my navy boat shoes, each step taking me determinedly toward my ultimate goal.

  Which is what, exactly?

  Proving myself right.

  I mean, that’s not why I’m doing this, is it?

  Shouldn’t she know that she’s my sister?

  Truthfully, I had a sneaking suspicion that Hannah wouldn’t want to know at all. She seemed perfectly content to let our little mystery remain hidden under a rock, never to see the light of day.

  Seriously, has she no idea how annoying that is?

  So, I burst through the front door and walked indomitably toward the receptionist, head held high and ready to be the bearer of glad tidings. When I asked for Hannah Camden, though, the gatekeeper wasn’t very forthcoming with her whereabouts. Instead, she seemed determined to block my efforts at closure, which was making me slightly unhappy.

  “You don’t have an appointment?” she repeated, as though I didn’t understand her the first time. Trying to remain polite, I pasted a friendly smile on my face.

  “No, I don’t have an appointment, but I’m sure she will be glad to see me, so please ring her.” She asked me to have a seat, so I sat on a little black box that I’m sure was supposed to pass as a chair of some type while she stared down at her desk. Her hair was pin-straight and so pale that it was nearly white, and her lips were painted a pale pink. She tapped her manicured nails against the desk absently, and I studied her nameplate. Candace Snitzfelt.

  Candy Snitz. Okay, that is sort of funny. No wonder Maureen likes to make up little names for people.

  “What’s your name?” Candy asked in a rather gruff tone, no doubt having caught me smiling to myself.

  “Camdyn,” I responded simply.

  “Not Hannah’s name, your name,” she reiterated, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. I knew exactly what that looked like, because I had done it enough times myself.

  “My name is Camdyn Parker,” I told her plainly. She looked away from me as though she had lost interest, and then she was whispering into the phone receiver, followed by simply typing as though I didn’t exist. Rather than continue to sit on that uncomfortable little square, I rose to my feet and stared absently out the window, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

  “Camdyn?” I heard Hannah’s voice behind me.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Hannah,” Candy informed her as I turned to face them.

  “No, it’s fine Candace,” Hannah stated flatly. “Camdyn is my…relative. I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for showing up at my office dressed for a beach holiday.”

  “People wear cutoff shorts when they’re not at work, which I am not,” I defended myself.

  “Oh, just come back to my office, drama queen,” Hannah muttered, turning to walk down the hallway. I absently followed her, giving Candy Snitz a sideways glance on my way by. She was eyeing me – I could feel it.

  “Hey, Hannah, who’s your friend?” I heard a male voice ask as I followed her down the hall.

  “Forget it, Baker,” Hannah threw at him, pointing towards an open door and ushering me inside. I sank into her guest chair, and she leaned against her desk, folding her arms across her chest.

  “I’m sorry I barged in on you,” I offered quietly, “and that I’m not office appropriate.”

  “Camdyn, something tells me you are rarely ever appropriate,” she laughed, shaking her head. “What are you doing here?”

  Now that I’m here, I feel kind of stupid. I should have just gone back to Grandpa’s.

  “I went to St. Peter’s this morning,” I blurted, and then we stared at each other for a brief moment. Rather uncomfortably, I might add. Without a flicker of emotion registering on her face, she simply stepped past me and left the room without a back
wards glance. My heart fell, because I must have upset her, and I didn’t know how to proceed. Not knowing whether I should leave or not, I sat there confused for a moment until she returned, shoving papers into her briefcase and then reaching under her desk for her purse.

  “Let’s go,” she said simply – not angrily or abruptly, but just matter-of-factly. Without a word, I followed her through the building and past other offices until we were in the back parking lot and she was pushing the key lock of her white two-door car.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as I slid into the passenger’s side, pulling the seatbelt across my chest.

  “I know a guy at the forensics lab,” she stated. “You think we’re sisters, and quite frankly, I’m not one for idle speculation. Either we are, or we aren’t, but you won’t have to wonder about it anymore.”

  “You’re going to get a DNA test, like a criminal,” I surmised.

  “No,” she answered mischievously. “You’re going to get a DNA test like a criminal. I am going to get a DNA test like a victim.”

  “I’m victimizing you?!” I laughed, allowing my mouth to gape open a bit.

  “My life has not been the same since you showed up here, Camdyn,” she explained as she backed out of her parking spot. “You are taking my orderly little world and turning it upside down, and I can’t decide whether I approve.”

  “Is this because of the Adam Vanderhuff incident?” I asked seriously, squinting my eyes a bit. To my surprise, she laughed heartily, almost to the point of seeming truly happy for a change.

  “Absolutely not. That was the one moment that I really wished we were related.”

  -§-

  Having our DNA tested was a simple swab of the cheek and then a lot of waiting, which was made slightly humorous by the fact that Hannah led me into the room and announced that she was bringing in a suspect who had recently been involved in a sting. After pushing to find out where she got her information, she informed me that Charlie had told Grandpa, and he in turn had relayed the story to her.

  Once that was finished, Hannah seemed to let her guard down a bit. I presumed this was because she didn’t have to worry about me bringing up the subject again for the time being, but I couldn’t be certain. It was nice to see her smile, however, and when she offered to take me to lunch, I agreed wholeheartedly. She insisted upon going back to her office to pick up Grandpa’s car, and then swinging by his house so she could change – that way we could both look like we were on a beach vacation.

  Hannah took me to this little hole in the wall sandwich place that had these awesome subs that were just bursting with flavor. She knew the name of the guy behind the counter, and he made some joke about her enjoying a laid back day at the office. We sat near the back for almost two hours as she told me stories about growing up, and Grandma and Grandpa, and even talked with her mouth full. That was the moment I decided she was fully comfortable with me.

  Towards the end of that second hour, though, she got rather quiet. I sipped quietly on my soft drink and stared at the wall, not wanting to jeopardize the progress we had made. When she smiled at me sadly, I figured our time together was over, and she would return to prim and proper Hannah once more. Instead, she leaned forward on her elbows and bit her lip.

  “Do you want to meet Grandma?” she asked quietly. Swallowing hard, I simply nodded, and she rose to her feet, headed for the door.

  The care facility was fairly close to Grandpa’s house, so we headed back in the direction we had come. Hannah turned the radio on quietly to one of those “greatest hits” stations, and neither of us said a word. She finally trusted me enough to let me into the most intimate of family moments, and I was feeling quite overwhelmed. Having read the letter from my grandmother to Darlene just hours before, it was still very fresh in my mind.

  “You okay?” Hannah questioned me as she parked the car. Looking over at her, I offered a tremulous smile.

  “Yes, I think so,” I told her. “This is just so overwhelming. I’ve been reading her journals – the ones Grandpa gave me…”

  “The family history,” she chuckled. “Not my family history, I always thought. You think it was, though.”

  “You know, Hannah, even if we aren’t really sisters, I think we’re still sisters at heart. Just look at everything we have in common. We were both abandoned by our mothers. We were both raised by our grandparents. We both think Adam Vanderhuff is an imbecile.”

  “Oh, Camdyn,” she laughed. “I’m glad to know you, whatever happens. Maybe we do have something in common, apart from your crazy penchant for creating trouble or conversely being overly dramatic.”

  “Touché,” I whispered, opening my own door. A long sidewalk led to a covered walkway, and when we reached the door, Hannah swung it open for me. With timid footsteps I followed her across a large room that looked like it might have served as a cafeteria or a room for social gatherings. Rounding the corner, we passed a couple of gentlemen sitting at a table playing checkers, and Hannah stopped to talk to them, calling each of them by name. A nurse passed on our right, and she was quick to introduce me before she asked about Isabel.

  “She’s doing well today,” the nurse assured us. With a nod of her head, Hannah continued down the hall and then to the right, finally pausing outside a door that was slightly ajar. Before she pushed it open, she looked intently at me.

  “I won’t be able to explain who you are,” she informed me.

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  “What I mean is, she doesn’t know who I am anymore. She doesn’t know Grandpa. There’s no way for me to tell her who you are.”

  “I understand,” I told her quietly. “She won’t know me, but…I know her, and that’s certainly enough.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes growing moist as she averted her face and cleared her throat. Pushing open the door, she stepped into the room.

  Taking in my surroundings, I glanced to the closest corner of the space first, noting that there were pictures on the wall, and that the room was decorated like a personal bedroom. There were photos of Grandpa and Hannah on the dresser, and a couple of quilts upon the chair – one with a bright yellow pattern and one with blues and greens. As I let my eyes float around the room, I finally focused on her. She was slight, and looked rather frail, sitting near the window, staring out absently. Her short sandy-blonde hair looked to be naturally curly, like mine, although its color had faded with time. Her face was remarkably young-looking, and peaceful, and she did look a little like Rita.

  “Hello, Grandma,” Hannah said slowly, waiting for her to turn and look in her direction. When she did, there wasn’t any sense of recognition. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Alright,” she answered rather hoarsely, returning her gaze to the window.

  “Are you too warm there in the sun?” Hannah wondered.

  “Oh, no,” she muttered, turning to look up at Hannah again. “Did you bring my homework?”

  “No, there’s no homework today,” Hannah replied lovingly. Isabel began to attempt to rise from her chair, and Hannah was quick to grab her elbow.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, looking up into Hannah’s face. Without skipping a beat or acting the least bit upset by the lack of recognition, Hannah simply supported her with her arm.

  “It’s Hannah, and this is Camdyn,”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Isabel stated. “I’m…” She paused as she looked momentarily confused, and Hannah gave me a sad smile.

  “Isabel,” she offered our grandmother.

  “Yes, Isabel Riley,” she agreed with a nod of her head. “Do you want some tea? Should I make some tea? There should be some tea.”

  “No, please don’t worry about the tea,” Hannah insisted as she continued to stand and help support her small frame. “Do you want to take a walk?”

  “That would be lovely, to walk with you girls,” she answered, “if you’re sure I have no homework?”

  “There’s no homework.” We beg
an our journey down the hall, and Hannah met my eyes over Isabel’s head. “Sometimes she remembers things from a long time ago – things that happened in her childhood. Sometimes she thinks she is still a child.” The quiet explanation only served to make me feel emotional, so I stared straight ahead and didn’t bother replying.

  “Will there be pudding today?” Isabel wondered aloud. Chuckling, Hannah wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

  “I will do my best to find out, okay?”

  “Okay,” she answered calmly. It really did feel a bit like listening to a conversation with a child, and I almost felt guilty watching the two of them together, with the gentle way Hannah talked to our grandmother. Even if Isabel didn’t remember their meetings, I felt certain that this was a scenario that had played out many times before, and I was looking at Hannah with fresh eyes.

  Stepping out of the building and into the courtyard behind the center, I followed as they slowly walked to a white metal bench, where Hannah helped Isabel lower herself to a sitting position. As Hannah rested herself at her side, I found myself a chair near them and settled in, staring at the woman across from me. Her violet-blue eyes gazed vacantly across the yard, but I watched her carefully. Imagining her as the pictures I had seen in Grandpa’s house was fairly easy – porcelain skin, blonde wavy hair, those large blue eyes…she and Grandpa were quite a handsome couple. She still resembled that young woman, with wrinkles around her eyes but hardly anywhere else on her face. Secretly I wondered if her face had appeared so peaceful and serene when she had been worrying about Darlene.

  “Camdyn writes books,” Hannah interrupted the silence, and Isabel looked up at Hannah.

  “Who?”

  “Camdyn, right there,” she clarified, pointing to me.

  “Oh, that’s real nice,” Isabel stated, smiling at me sweetly. “I like to read. I like Jane Eyre, and Pride and Prejudice. Oh, and Rebecca - I do love that book. I think I met Daphne du Maurier once.”