Be What Love Is

by Malouff, Ellie

  “Those are all good questions. Is there any way to just ask her so you can get to the bottom of it?”

  “I keep trying to call her, but she doesn’t answer. I’d love to ask her directly about this, but I have a feeling it’s not going to come that easily. I wish there were someone else who knew the truth.”

  “They’re all dead,” I say with a grave face. But that isn’t right, there is someone. “Wait. No.”

  “What?” she asks.

  “Mrs. McHenry. I’m sure she knows something.”

  Her jaw drops. “Why didn’t I think of that? I have to talk to her.”

  “Are you sure you want to?” I ask, still feeling unsettled about her pursuit.

  Her skin creases by her eyes. “Talk to Mrs. McHenry?”

  “Find out the truth?”

  “It’s a scary notion, putting myself out there,” she concedes. “My mom and dad’s story definitely didn’t have a happy ending, that much is clear.”

  “Agreed.”

  “But I have to, Reid. I have to know the truth. So many things have changed for me since I’ve been back and I feel like maybe this is a turning point in my life. It’s like this is all meant to be.”

  “What if you don’t like the outcome?”

  “No matter what happens, it’s better than regret. I know that now. I regret not knowing my grandfather,” she reveals. “I buried my head in the sand for too long and just followed my mom’s lead. I don’t want to live that way anymore.”

  “You’re brave, Cara.”

  “Maybe,” she says and tries to laugh it off. “Here, start reading, and when you’re done, pass it to me, and I’ll reread it for anything I might have missed.”

  The letters are just as she described. It’s upsetting that Trevor turns so hopeless as the letters go on. It makes me wonder why he decided to try again two months ago when he and Anna worked on their will. It was an extraordinary thing that he considered her at all anymore. I suppose when you love somebody, hope is invincible.

  As I’m reading the last letter, Cara looks through the whole batch again and picks one up.

  “Huh,” she mutters.

  “What?”

  “This one,” she says and hands it over to me.

  I quickly scan the content. “What about it?”

  “He wrote this one on his company’s letterhead.”

  “Yes, he did.” I’m still not sure why that’s caught her eye.

  “Look at the name of the company.”

  “Montgomery and Livingston,” I say, straight-faced.

  “My grandfather had a business partner?”

  “Yes, you didn’t know that?”

  “No, for how long?”

  “For quite a while. I think it began well before you were born and they parted ways eventually. When I came on board, it had been many years since that happened, although your grandfather still had a lot of old Montgomery and Livingston things lying around, like letterhead and pens and even some business cards. I told him it wasn’t good for business, but he had a hard time throwing stuff away.”

  “I don’t remember Livingston at all.”

  “I was with your grandfather when he ran into Clive Livingston once. It was very awkward.”

  “Why did they part ways?”

  “It sounded like they didn’t see eye-to-eye on things.”

  “So when he wrote this letter do you think they were still business partners?”

  I look at the date on the letter and shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. Like I said, he kept a lot of that stuff around, so it was probably just handy.”

  “I suppose so. Gosh, he was such a pack rat,” she says, and we both laugh softly. She pauses for a moment. “Do you think this was the business associate my grandfather was talking about?”

  “Hard to say. Maybe.”

  “Do you think he could be my father?” she asks, timidly.

  “Livingston?” I ask and rub my chin. The idea is preposterous, so I’ll have to dash her hopes on that one. “I don’t think so. He’s much older than your mum and I think he’s married.”

  She rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. She clearly doesn’t want to give up, and when it comes to Cara, I want to give her everything her heart desires, even if it could hurt. I battle with myself because when she’s hurt, it pains me tremendously, but I have to accept it and trust that this is what she wants. I crawl over and lay down right beside her, so our shoulders are touching. “I’ll call the McHenrys. We can meet them in town.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Anna

  Cara

  The next couple of weeks are a flurry of activity. Canterwood Manor is alive and kicking with people from Damien’s company. I tried to keep up and assist them while Reid worked, but I quickly realized it’s best to stay out of their way. They are a machine. That’s okay, though, because Reid always has something up his sleeve for how we can spend time together when he isn’t working.

  We’ve gone for long walks in the countryside and have had leisurely picnics in the meadow. We’ve done some sightseeing, which he has insisted upon because he wants me to reconnect with my English roots. We even went to the movies one afternoon but ended up making out the whole time. I told him that we shouldn’t have wasted the money and he laughed before telling me that it was well worth the price of admission.

  He makes my time away from home so worth it and tells me all the time about how this break is good for him too, but it’s clear to me that his time away from the office is taking a toll. Sometimes, I wake up in the night and find him working on his laptop, stress just radiating off of him. He always tells me it’s okay, but deep down I know it’s not.

  So it wasn’t a surprise when we were awakened by a phone call from Victoria this morning. She sounded so angry as she barked orders at Reid to come to London today.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve got to go,” he says and kisses me, using a little bit of tongue. He’s been kissing me for a long time at the door.

  “It’s okay, go,” I tell him. “Just come back to me.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says and kisses me one last time. He grabs his black leather messenger bag that probably costs more than my rent and finally turns to walk away from me.

  “Wait!” He’s not even halfway to his car before I jog to where he’s standing. I pull his head back down to mine, to get one more kiss. This one is for me. He wraps his free arm around me and lifts me off the ground and to get his own.

  “You’re making it impossible to leave,” he says as he sets me back down.

  “I know. Just go. Don’t let me stop you again. Find the will, Reid,” I reply and start backing up toward the house.

  “You better get back in there, before I pick you up and carry you in myself.”

  “That sounds like such a delicious threat.”

  “You better believe me, sweetheart, when I tell you that it’s a threat I would most definitely follow through on. Now go.”

  “You go,” I tell him and turn around and trot back to the house laughing.

  “Be good, Cara Montgomery,” he shouts after me.

  “Always, Reid Lewis. Until later.”

  He shakes his head and laughs while getting into his fancy Jag and takes off like his whole world depends on it.

  I spend most of the day reading and missing Reid. I never considered myself someone who would depend on someone else, but my need for Reid is like my need for coffee, for books, for air. I’m yearning for him.

  In the late afternoon, I get an email from the Fitzwilliam Library. The executive director wants to meet me. That has to be good! Without a second thought, I work with her assistant to set up a time, then sit back and process it all. While the internship has been floating around in the back of my mind, I haven’t really thought about what it will mean if I get it, because the future is off balance. It’s like a seesaw with Reid on one side and Californi
a, the internship, my friends and mom on the other. Why does he weigh so damn much?

  To get my mind off it, I meet up with Lucy, one of Damien’s appraisal staff, in Anna’s office. The desk is covered with albums, pieces of paper, and what appears to be a red folder. The rest of the office is boxed up.

  “What did you find?” I ask her.

  “Some photo albums and letters.”

  “Letters?”

  “Yes, Miss Montgomery. I’ve left them on the desk. There’s an empty box right there, you can pack them when you’re done. Just mark it personal, I’ll make sure it gets to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We’re headed out for the night. So, I’ll leave you to it,” she says and quietly exits the office.

  I take a seat behind the desk and pick up one of the photo albums. In a matter of seconds, Anna’s travels for C.I.C. flash before my eyes. My grandfather doesn’t show up until the second book, and then he never leaves. I can’t deny how happy they are together, especially him.

  When I get to the third book, I pause when Reid’s handsome face pops up in some of the photos. The early ones appear to be when he returned from Australia. His hair is longer and sun-streaked. He actually looks like a surfer, and that makes me smile. After a day of being without him, it is such a quenching sight. He’s downright hot, but he doesn’t look nearly as happy as my grandfather or Anna. His eyes are cold, something I’ve seen before at his lowest points.

  As I turn each page, he appears more polished and clean cut in the photos, but his eyes remain the same. When he smiles, it’s tight and controlled. I check all the pictures. There isn’t a single one where he is happy the way I know him to be happy. My need for him to come home is unbearable.

  When I’ve seen every photo of Reid about fifty times, I pack the albums into the box and check out the letters. It feels like a violation when I pick up one to read it, but curiosity gets the better of me. All of the letters are from my grandfather to Anna, and they appear to be in chronological order. Oh lord. The entirety of their friendship and developing relationship is at my fingertips. My lips twist around as I debate whether or not to keep going. I can’t help myself and pick up the next letter and the one after that and so on.

  I learn that their love for one another stretched back years and years. They fell for each other hard and seemed so happy. He even asked her to marry him like ten times. But as I predicted, things take a turn. She wanted more than the life she had here. She wanted to help the children of the world and stayed away for more extended periods of time and eventually, they grew apart. Eventually, he told her that he was going to marry my grandmother. That letter was crumpled and straightened back out again. After that, the letters stop for many years.

  I reflect on that for a moment before continuing. They clearly made the break when he committed to my grandmother. A strange feeling emerges, and it’s something like heartache. I can’t help but be sad for these two people who clearly wanted to be together but never quite made it work for many years.

  I’m surprised when the letters start again a few years after I was born. I had no idea that they had been in contact for so long before they, dare I think it, reunited.

  The letters start simple, and they’re platonic for many of the years. He confides in her. He talks a lot about me and occasionally about my mom, but he never mentions my grandmother. When he does write about my mom, it’s usually laced with worry, and the next one I pick up is no different.

  Laura has been especially mysterious lately. She stayed out last Saturday and didn’t come home until Sunday afternoon. Thankfully Mrs. McHenry kept Cara occupied, and my little ballerina had no idea that her mum was gone or that we were worried sick. When Laura came home, she went straight to her room and refused to talk to anyone. Finally, she emerged because Cara scraped her knee. Laura heard her crying and rushed to take care of her. I suspect she either has a new boyfriend or perhaps she’s been meeting up with Cara’s father again. Either way, she remains as distant as ever, and I’m afraid I’ll never reach her like I used to before Cara was born.

  I check the date. I was four years old. So my mom may have still been in contact with my dad? Did my grandfather know his identity? This is totally crazy. We really need to meet up with the McHenrys to get more information.

  I keep reading the letters hoping for more clues about my father’s identity and what exactly happened to turn my mother away from our home. Instead, I get to read in my grandfather’s own words about how his old feelings for Anna never died and essentially get a view into his love for her and how he yearned for her. It turns out that my grandfather was probably a very lonely man during those years. No wonder we were so close when I lived under his roof. In a lot of ways, I was all he had.

  What happens next was to everyone’s surprise. My grandmother fell ill. She went into a hospital and never came out. In my memory, she was there one day and gone the next.

  It wasn’t long after that we left England, abandoning my grandfather. I pick up the next letter and read it, hoping for some better insight into the events that led to that. This one is addressed to a town in India.

  I wish you were here, but I understand why you’re not. The situation with Laura has gotten worse. She found all the letters you’ve ever sent me. She confronted me about them, was so very cross, and threw them in the fire. I watched as they burned to ash, knowing that I had truly lost a personal treasure.

  No matter how I try to explain it. No matter how much I ask for Laura’s forgiveness or beg for her to understand the arrangement I had with her mother, she will not bend. While I know she’s hurt about my infidelity, I know it’s much more than that. Perhaps it has to do with Cara’s father. To be honest, I’m afraid I’m going to lose her and Cara, which would devastate me. Oh, Anna. I’m not sure I can handle this without you.

  On the business front, I have news. I took your advice and have parted with Livingston. He’s been nothing but a drain. I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner. It has been a tense separation. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with at home, work is terribly hard and requires my total attention. I pray this isn’t God’s way of punishing me for my trespasses. I pray that I don’t lose Laura. And I pray that you come home to me soon.

  My head really hurts. It seems as if my grandfather was just as confused as I am about my father. I have to get to the bottom of this, and it’s useless trying to glean information about it from one-way letters.

  The next letter is short and to the point.

  They left, Anna. They left me. Please come home.

  The letters stop for all intents and purposes. When they resume, the letters are few and far between, with little love notes and greeting cards, signs of a happy relationship. It doesn’t seem that they were separated very much after that and I’m glad.

  My heart feels for them, and it’s absolutely impossible to regard Anna in a negative light now. Theirs was a love story that had a happy ending. Well, until recently.

  I pack the letters away and open the red folder, not overly curious about the contents. What more could I discover?

  It appears to be medical documents and some bills. I’m about to close the folder, figuring it isn’t important, especially in the personal sense, but then two words pop out at me. Lung cancer. Stage IV apparently.

  I bring the folder closer to my face as I find the name, Anna Montgomery, and the date, four months ago.

  “Hello gorgeous,” Reid says from the doorway, and I jump in my seat.

  I quickly close the folder and swallow hard before greeting him. “Hi.”

  He meanders over to the desk and leans against it. We’re so close now that our legs touch and my breath gets heavier. He’s gazing at me with the warm eyes I longed to see when I went through the photo album. He is here, in the flesh, with me, and the realization of that makes me melt.

  “What is all this?” he asks, and twists to look at all the letters and the red folder.

  “Letters mostl
y, from my grandfather to your aunt.”

  He clears his throat. “Did you read them?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “All of them.”

  “Anything that I should know?” he asks and our eyes meet. I take a cautious step back as I consider the red folder. His face drops and I’m sure he senses my hesitation.

  “Well, to begin with, I want to apologize, Reid, for the terrible things I’ve said about your aunt. It was really uncalled for.”

  He blinks a few times rapidly. “Okay, I was not expecting that, but thank you.”

  “Yeah, in all the time I’ve been here, my eyes have been opened to what they had. She was my grandfather’s true love.”

  “And he was hers,” Reid chimes in. “It’s only obvious to you about how he felt, but I saw it play out. He was the only thing that could bring her home and make her stay. She loved him so deeply, her whole life.”

  I nod my head, knowing that I didn’t need to read the letters on her end to learn the truth. He takes hold of my hand, and our fingers intertwine. I look down at our joined hands and close my eyes. Does he know that Anna was sick? Can he take any more pain?

  “Cara, what’s wrong?” he asks, his tone timid.

  I open my eyes and let him go. I reach over to the red folder and hold it close to my chest. I gather what courage I have and finally speak, “I’m not sure if you knew, but there are some documents in here that says Anna was diagnosed with lung cancer.”

  Reid

  Did I hear her right?

  “What?” I bark and quickly grab the folder from Cara.

  She takes a step back, giving me the space I need.

  “Let me see this,” I say, not wanting to believe for a minute that Aunt Anna was diagnosed with the same type of cancer that took my mother’s life. Unfortunately, the diagnosis letter makes it quite clear she was. “If this is true, then. . .”