by Claire Ashby
“Let me finish,” she begged. “We were a family, we made a nice family. Every dream I ever had as a little girl for a normal life, Mike gave me. It didn’t matter that you didn’t come from him.”
“He’s my father.”
“He is your father,” she agreed.
“He’s not our father?”
“No, that man is dead. And Mike doesn’t need to know.” She looked over her shoulder toward the entrance of the hotel. “The truth is no good. It would only hurt him.”
“Why tell me, then?”
“Because I need you to know I left because I loved you. I left to protect Mike. To protect my babies.”
“Protect us from what?” My voice sounded small.
“We were all at the park one day, and my ex showed up. I saw how he looked at you and Steve. I told Mike to put you guys in the car. He didn’t want me to talk to Danny, but I was afraid Danny knew. I was afraid of what he’d do.”
“You should’ve left with Dad right then. He could’ve protected you.”
“No, that would’ve been like petting a rabid dog. I couldn’t have Danny follow us home. I pretended I wasn’t shaken and went over to say hi to him. He recognized your father as my boss. First he accused me of cheating on him, and then he insisted he fathered you and your brother. I said I lost our baby after he beat me. I begged him to leave us alone. It had been over two years since we’d seen each other.”
She was breathing heavily with the burden of the memory.
“Mike and I went home, but I knew my ex would be back. The next week, while Mike was at work, Danny surprised me. He cornered me at the mailbox. Wanted to come inside and visit with you guys. I told him to go away. He said he wouldn’t have another man raising his babies. He said if he found out you were his, he’d take you both from me, and I’d never see you again. I was too naive to understand that it wouldn’t be an easy thing for him to do. I lived in fear of the man. When I said the babies were Mike’s, he grabbed me and kissed me. Something in me broke apart then. My beautiful life was a lie. Danny insisted the only way he’d believe me was if I ran away with him. I knew then if I made that choice, you would be free from him forever. I couldn’t let him hurt you. I couldn’t hurt Mike that way. So I went away with Danny.”
“But Dad loved you. You should have read the letters he sent you. He would’ve forgiven you.”
“I couldn’t forgive myself. I didn’t deserve Mike’s love. I lied to him every day we were together.”
“Dad would’ve understood.”
“But Danny wouldn’t have. I was frightened of what would happen to you if he got ahold of you. He harbored a vicious side, and I couldn’t protect myself and protect you guys. He wouldn’t have been any good as a father.”
I wanted to hug her, but when I stepped forward, she stepped back.
She squeezed her locket and slid it back and forth along the chain. “He died four years ago, and then I met Roger.” She smiled when she said his name. “He’s a good one. He wanted to be a daddy, so I tossed my pills, and here I am.”
Roger is the good one? What must my birth father have been like?
“We need to put away all these secrets,” I said. “It’s never too late to come clean.”
“Well, what good would that do now? Here, take this.” She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve kept this hidden for years, too afraid to look and too afraid to let it go. You keep it.” She stuffed the envelope in my hands. “Walking away from Mike and you kids was the hardest thing I ever did. That first letter he sent wore me down. I almost went home, but I had to stay strong. I couldn’t risk reading another one. Each letter that passed through my hands was a blessing. A reminder that my babies had a home with love.”
I was crying, and she took me in her arms. “Sshhh there,” she crooned. “You’re fine. See, everything worked out in the end.” I sobbed harder. “Please, don’t do this to me now,” she moaned. “I want to do right by this baby. I have to forget the past.”
“You’re right.” I pulled myself together, wiping away my tears.
She reached behind her neck and unclasped her necklace. “I want you to have this, too,” she said. “Lift your hair, and I’ll put it on for you.”
I did as she asked. Her fingers grazed the back of my neck, and when she stepped back, the locket, still carrying the warmth of her skin, landed just below my collar bone.
I put my hand over the charm. “Thank you.”
“Can you forgive me?” Candy asked, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“Yes, I do. Steve and I had a good life. Don’t worry about us.”
“And Mike?”
“Dad’s happy. He’s good.”
“I can’t make you keep my secret, but it’s the only thing I’ve ever asked of you,” she said. “Bringing up the past is not going to help anyone.”
“I’ll keep my promise. Thank you for telling me the truth.” I held the envelope to my chest. A gift from my mother.
She put one hand on her belly and her other hand on my belly. “When I rock my baby to sleep, I’m going to think about you and your baby.” A tear slipped from her eye. “You will be a good mother, Meg. All you need is in you.” She took my hand and kissed it. “This visit was good for me. I hope it’s been good for you.” She released my hand and slipped into the crowd mingling around the lobby. Within ten seconds, she was out of sight.
I felt as if a bomb had exploded, and I didn’t have time to survey the damage. I had to leave for the airport in order to catch my flight. Hurrying back to my room, I stuffed my belongings into my bag. In the cab on the way to the airport, I watched the city, gray with smog, speed past me. My mother had always loved me. She had always loved us. When I laughed, the cab driver asked if I was okay. I assured him I was fine. Poor guy had to drive a hysterical pregnant woman, one who laughed and cried at the same time, all the way to the airport.
I went through the motions and managed to get on the plane. After takeoff, I removed the chain from around my neck and spread it across my fingertips. It was a timeless silver rope with a heart-shaped locket. The heart had delicate flowers etched in perfect detail. I could have admired it for hours. I slipped my fingernail in the crease to open it. My eyes went directly to the photo of my mother’s face—tiny, so tiny, but an image of her.
On the other side of the locket was a photo of Hazel. She looked vacant, but I resisted the urge to pass judgment. I held a photo of my mother and grandmother, women who shared my blood but not my life. The one I wanted had moved on. The other one had lurked in my life unannounced until she was forced to speak up. The edge of Hazel’s photo curled back slightly and another image was visible underneath.
Carefully, I separated the photos and found a baby picture of Steve. She’d kept our images in a safe place. I knew mine must be nestled under the other side, but I was too afraid to risk harming her photo by trying to look underneath it. I tucked the photos back the way I had found them.
About the time we were over Mississippi, I opened the envelope Candy had given me. Inside, I found a letter, just like the others from the stack. The only difference was that this one had been opened and handled. It was yellowed by time, its edges cracked.
Dear Candace-
I long for your body beside mine. You are my love, my life, the air I breathe. Why did you leave me? Our life so full, so beautiful, I never stopped to question your happiness. I know you. I know you were happy.
You are our sun. We are aimless without you. The babies call out to you all day and all night. Momma, Momma, Momma. Please come home. Where did I go wrong?
I know everything changed the day you saw him in the park. Whatever it is that upset you, we can work it out. If you are scared I will protect you. If you need me to come get you I will. I’ll do anything for you.
> We need you back. I love you.
Always yours-
Mike
Home. I longed for the safety and comfort of my home. My bed. My journey for closure exposed a history that lay tangled and bare before me. I was such a fool. I mourned for my mother, who despite everything, I loved even more. She had given up all she had, everything she wanted, to ensure Steve and I could have more. I wanted her back. I wanted to know her, but that was not what she needed. The pain shredded me to bits.
And when I thought about my father—the man who made me—I was at once relieved that he hadn’t raised me and sorrowful for all the years he had kept Candy from us. I pondered the life Steve and I could’ve had.
The plane landed, and I moved slowly to baggage claim, but still arrived there before my suitcase did. Sitting in a chair, hands on baby shelf and ankles crossed, the truth hit me: I might never see her again. I would carry her secret, keeping it safe from everyone who loved me. I had to do it alone. What would it do to Dad to learn he didn’t father us? Steve would be furious with me for digging this up. Candy had lifted her burden and placed it on me.
People swarmed all around me. I closed my eyes and felt myself start to crumble. I opened my eyes, startled to discover Theo, looking amazingly tall without his crutches, standing over me. He slid his hand across my back, sitting down and leaning into me. “Hi,” he said, as if he had never left me. I pressed my face into his chest, and his other arm came around to cradle me in his embrace.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.” I sagged against him while he held on. The noise of the airport drowned out my sobs as Theo rocked me.
“Can I offer any help?” I heard a woman’s voice ask.
“No, no,” Theo replied. “Thank you.” I felt him reach for something, and then he handed me a tissue. I guess a pregnant woman bawling in baggage claim was an irresistible sight, because when I raised my eyes, reaching for composure, I saw people gawking at me.
“Let me take you home,” Theo said.
“Why are you here?”
“I came for you,” Theo said. “Ellie told me what happened. You don’t have to go through this alone.” His words sank in.
“You shouldn’t have bothered.” I stood. “I’m not doing this with you.”
“It’s okay, Meg. I’m not asking you for anything.” He walked by my side to the baggage carousel. His gait was slightly off, but otherwise he moved with a captivating self-assurance. I waddled, clutching my purse with the letter tucked inside, my breath still uneven from crying. “I’ll give you a ride home,” Theo said.
“Okay,” I replied, too tired to resist. When my bag got close, I reached for it.
“Here, I’ve got that.” Theo plucked it off as it spun our way. “Is this it?”
“Yeah.”
We went outside, where the dry Texas wind greeted us. As if my body knew I was close to home, my knees gave a little, legs stumbled, and Theo gripped my arm above the elbow to steady me. “Hang on, girl—we’re almost there.”
At his car, he helped me in and tossed my bag in the back. I hoped he wouldn’t try making small talk during the ride. My head resting against the cool glass window, I watched the blurry landscape pass by. I had nothing left to search for. I wasn’t going to get my mother back. Instead, I carried her secrets. The truth didn’t release me, didn’t clarify the reasoning that had led to bad choices in my life. All the truth did was make me reevaluate the need for secrets.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Theo’s body, sitting close to mine, held at bay the looping replay of the last twenty-four hours. I reached for the diversion his presence offered. I surveyed his profile out of the corner of my eye. “Why’d you come for me?” I asked.
“When I couldn’t track you down, I went to Ellie. She told me what you were doing.” With one arm resting on the window and his other hand casually hanging on the bottom of the steering wheel, he looked relaxed. Only the flexing of his jaw gave away his tension. “Not a good idea, considering how far along you are. I would’ve gone with you.”
“I don’t need a chaperone,” I snapped back.
He chuckled softly, but the sound was brimming with bitterness. “Could’ve fooled me. Not enough people ready to let you down; you go on a search to find more. You looked lost in baggage claim.”
“Stop picking on me.”
“Why do you have to fight so hard to do everything on your own?”
“I was resting my feet for a minute, and anyway, you’re a big, fat, full-of-it hypocrite!” With arms crossed over my chest, I looked out the window again. I should’ve snagged a cab.
Theo laughed hard.
“What do you think is so funny?” I shot him the dirtiest, most hate-filled look I could muster.
“Did you call me fat?” He laughed into the crook of his arm; his eyes left the road and glanced at my belly. “And I’m the hypocrite?”
My mouth dropped open, and heat rushed to my face. “I’m pregnant. Part of this is another human being. You can’t call me fat.”
He made no attempt to conceal his next laugh.
Outrage flashed through me; my hands trembled, and I failed to steady my voice. “You’re a hypocrite because you tell me I should ask for help. I need someone to look out for me. I’m so helplessly pregnant. But you’re the one who ran off instead of letting anyone be there for you. You weren’t here to help me even if I did need you, and I’m not saying I did. Or if we needed each other, even. You didn’t even have to lean on me. You could’ve turned to Jake, or your mom, or if you didn’t want to go to your family, you could have trusted Cortez to be there for you.” I realized I was yelling. “Instead, you push everyone away. You hurt every one of us when you ran away. Now you come back all better, and we’re all supposed to pick up where you dropped us and carry on.”
I tried to catch my breath while I waited for him to speak. He focused on the road ahead. He was no longer laughing at me. I’d hit a nerve.
“I’m not going to apologize to you because I’m right, and you know I’m right,” I said.
Theo took a slow breath in and began. “I left because I was hurting you. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“That’s crap.”
“I wanted to get better, but nothing worked. My pain wasn’t in my head, but when the diagnosis came back as ‘phantom pain,’ it was as if they were calling me crazy. I went into self-destruct mode. You kept me going—only you. And then I saw her.” He reached over and put his hand on my belly. His touch was so memorable, so comforting that I longed for a simpler time where I could place my hand on his. I sat without responding, and Theo removed his hand from me in acknowledgment of my resistance.
His deep voice filled the car again. “When we went to the ultrasound together, and you told me you loved me, I knew I could have a better life than I’d ever dreamed. I wanted that life, Meg. I locked my eyes on it.
“When Jason showed up, I lost it,” Theo said. “When he put his hands on you, I flipped out. I didn’t think he had the right to walk into our lives and claim his part in this. I wanted him gone. After I hit him, when I saw your face, I knew how wrong I was. I shouldn’t have put you through that. I blew it, not for the first time, and I’m sorry.”
“I know, I know, it’s okay,” I said. “What’s not okay is that you left. You left me. You said you loved me, and you went away to who knows where, and you didn’t call me. I had no idea if you’d be back. That hurt me more than anything, Theo.”
He reached out and grabbed my hand. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But you did!” I pulled back from his grasp. “You could’ve told me what was going on. Called. Wrote. Emailed. Sent up smoke signals. I would have waited for you. I would have supported whatever you needed. I would have done anything for you! Didn’t you think a
bout what you were doing to me? Did you even care?”
“Yes. Yes, of course I did. All I thought about was you. But if I couldn’t get better, I wouldn’t have come home.”
“What?” I jerked my head to the side to see if he really meant that. The look he gave me was harrowing. “You’re selfish, Theo. If you think that would be best, then you are horribly selfish.”
“Believe what you want, but I won’t be a burden to you, Meg.”
Theo turned into my complex. The tension in my body only tightened as we pulled up to my home. I wanted to go inside and lock the world, including Theo, out. The question was, would Theo try to follow me?
“It’s not a burden when you love someone,” I said. “The joy of having you by my side overshadowed everything else. All I wanted was you. If you don’t see that, then not only are you selfish, but you’re stupid too.”
He laughed, a strangely sad sound. “I missed my feisty girl.”
I let out a short bark of laughter. “I’m not yours to miss.”
The second the car was in park, I swung my door open. Unfortunately, my physique no longer allowed a swift and graceful exit, so I heaved myself up by clutching either side of the car doorframe. Theo followed me, wheeling my suitcase behind him. I unlocked the door and turned to take the handle from him.
“Thanks for the lift. I’ve got it from here.”
Hauling my bag inside I swung the door shut, but Theo’s hand shot up, blocked the door from closing. “Wait. I’m coming in to talk. We can work this out.”
“No.” I forced myself to look him in the eye. I saw a storm there, pain and regret, longing and need. I felt exactly the same, but I had to—for once in my life—learn from experience. “You cannot come inside. You walked away from what we had. Now it’s gone. Thanks for the ride, but goodbye.”
He didn’t move his hand from the door.