The first flash of anger sparkled in her eyes. “No, it was not. Your father knew I was expecting and living in New Jersey.”
“How did my father find out?”
“My grandmother told him a couple of weeks before you were born. And as soon as she did, he contacted me and asked what I planned to do. I had met with an agency but had made no final choices.”
“Why did Olivia tell him?” Libby asked.
“He was the local pediatrician. Her husband was a doctor. She also knew she would be able to see you from time to time if the McKenzies adopted you.”
“And you said yes, just like that?”
Elaine picked at a loose thread. “I didn’t say yes, just like that. I thought long and hard about it. When I finally called him, I was in labor and absolutely terrified.”
“Mom said she and Dad got the call that there was an abandoned baby ready to adopt. They hopped in the car and drove up to New Jersey.”
Elaine frowned. “You were not abandoned. I called your father when I was in labor. Your parents appeared about two hours after you were born.”
“Mom said you didn’t want to see them.”
“I did not. I was afraid I would lose my nerve.”
“Did you ever think to keep me?”
“A million times.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I’ve asked myself that very question every day since.”
“Money couldn’t have been an issue. You come from money.”
“Remember, I had no mother or father to help me with this, and my grandmother came from a different generation. When she was young, a girl who became pregnant out of wedlock was shunned. She was afraid for me.”
“But that was the late eighties.”
“It made no difference to her. She was a strong-willed woman. She made me swear I wouldn’t tell my grandfather.”
“Why not?”
“My grandfather was a kind and loving man. He was a second father to me. But he too had very steadfast beliefs about women getting pregnant out of marriage.”
“Kind of Stone Age.”
“He was born in 1920. If you’re curious, he’s mentioned in several articles about eugenics in Virginia.”
“What about it?”
“Perhaps it will help explain him better. My grandfather, like other medical professionals of the time, believed they were doing a service to women by sterilizing them.”
“Sterilizing them?”
“Mentally challenged, disabled, and sometimes just poor women. I’m not defending what he did. It was terrible. But in his mind, he was performing a necessary service.”
“Jesus.”
“I was very angry with Olivia for a long time. But over the years, I gained some perspective. I read her journals, and I got a glimpse into her early days in Virginia. You’ll learn a lot about her.”
“Through her plants?” Libby struggled to keep a civil tone.
“She talks a lot about the people she knew then. There was one girl in particular, Sadie Thompson. My grandmother befriended her and tried to help her.”
“The name etched in the greenhouse glass?” Libby asked.
“Yes.”
A car pulled up, and Libby pushed back a jolt of annoyance as she saw Lofton striding up the front steps. She wore a dark-blue long-sleeve shirt that she had rolled up, jeans, and wedge sandals.
Libby ran her hands through her hair. Of all the times.
“I forgot my phone,” Lofton said as she kissed Elaine on the cheek. “I had to come back.”
Libby rose. “Lofton.”
Tension drew Lofton’s full lips into a tight line. “Hello, Libby. What brings you back? More photography?”
“I was having a talk with Elaine.”
Lofton’s lips thinned. “Really?”
Elaine sighed. “Libby found a letter Olivia wrote to her when she was born.”
“Why would Olivia write a letter to Libby?” And even before her sentence was finished, she shook her head. “I see.”
“You see what?” Elaine asked.
Lofton clenched her hands. “I don’t want to have this conversation in front of her.”
“You might as well.” Libby wanted to spare Elaine any more tension, but her baby sister was pressing too many nerves. “You clearly have a problem with me.”
“I don’t know you,” Lofton said. “None of us really know you.”
“What’s that mean?” Libby asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lofton said. “And I don’t want to upset Mom.”
“You’ve figured it out,” Libby said. “You know who I am.”
“I didn’t know for sure. But then I saw Mom interact with you. She was nervous, and she is never nervous. Dad was being super polite to you. I’d never felt those vibes from them before. Finally, you look like Olivia, for God’s sake.”
“Why would you even suspect?” Elaine asked, clearly shocked and surprised.
“When I got my passport, I had a good look at my birth certificate. It stated I was your second child.”
Elaine closed her eyes. “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” Lofton said.
“Other than you three, who else knows?” Libby asked.
“Margaret and Ted know,” Elaine said. “But beyond them, no one else knows.”
It didn’t surprise Libby that Margaret might have known. Margaret likely knew everything that went on in this house. “So I’m basically still a secret,” Libby said.
“I kept that secret to protect myself and you,” Elaine said. “Giving you to the McKenzies was something I didn’t like to talk about because I was ashamed. I didn’t think it fair for me to show up and present myself. I wasn’t turning your life into a reality television show.”
“She’s a great mom,” Lofton interjected.
“Easy for you to say.” The unexpected bitterness surprised her. “She didn’t pretend you didn’t exist.”
“I never did any such thing,” Elaine said.
“You never told me the truth,” Libby said.
“I agreed a long time ago to let your parents handle every aspect of disclosure. Your father promised he would tell, and I believed that. I only approached you when I realized he had not.”
“It always struck me as a little odd that Ginger called me out of the blue to take pictures at her wedding.”
“Margaret told me Ginger wanted to get married, and I offered up Woodmont if she would use you as her photographer.”
“Very clever.”
“I wanted to get to know you under more normal circumstances.”
Elaine leaned slightly toward Lofton, as if she needed her support. Lofton wrapped an arm around her mother’s slim shoulder, and Libby felt more an outsider than she ever had. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak to me today.”
“You’ll come back, right?” Elaine asked quickly.
“I don’t know,” Libby said.
Lofton’s features hardened with anger and suspicion.
“My door is always open,” Elaine said. “I want you to know you’re not alone, and you do have family.”
“Elaine, I’m not even sure what that means anymore.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LIBBY
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Bluestone, Virginia
The sun peeked through the drapes, slicing across Libby’s closed eyes. She rolled away, pulling the pillow with her. Her head pounded while she felt unsettled, with no hint of an appetite.
After shoving the hair from her eyes, she reached for her phone and checked the time. She could not remember when she had been sleeping late in the morning unless Jeremy was with her and they were purposefully whiling away the hours together. In those days, sex had been for the sake of pleasure. There had been no agenda, no sense of angst, and no feeling of failure. There were times when she missed those days.
As soon as she had left Elaine’s, her knee-jerk reaction had been to
call Jeremy. He had been her best friend and had listened to her worries about not having a genetic history. In fact, it had been her wild card genetics that had prompted them both to get genetic counseling before they had even tried to get pregnant. And as she’d miscarried, she had wondered if that hidden history had been the cause.
On reflex she pulled up Jeremy’s Instagram page. There was a picture of an overnight bag that said, ONE WEEK TO GO!
She stared at the image a long time. When she had been pregnant the first time, she had dared to think ahead to her delivery and what she would pack in her bag. By the third pregnancy, no such thoughts had been allowed until she had hit the twelve-week mark. For two beautiful weeks, she had allowed herself to dream.
Had Elaine prepared a bag like that when she had been pear shaped and on the verge of delivery? Had Olivia been in New Jersey when she was born, or had the grandmother left her granddaughter to deal with the delivery on her own? The more she was learning about Olivia, the more she disliked her.
Swallowing tightness in her throat, she rose and moved into the kitchen. She set up a pot of coffee. Twenty minutes later she was showered and dressed in a black pantsuit, white shirt, and kitten heels.
The instant she smelled the coffee, her spirits lifted. It was nowhere near euphoric, but she knew if she kept putting one foot in front of the other, she would find her way through this. That was the black magic of a strong cup of coffee. It restored souls and mended all wounds.
She filled a travel mug and was out the front door, where she found Sierra waiting for her. She was dressed in a sleeveless black sheath dress accented by a large gold necklace and chunky red heels. Her hair was swept up into a neat ponytail, and her makeup was subtle. She carried a brown retro briefcase that looked like it dated back to the sixties.
“So what’s the look you’re going for today?” Libby asked. “I’m rocking the prison matron look.”
That coaxed a small smile. “I’m the kind of woman who borrows money but doesn’t really need to because she has secret stores of cash.”
“Then why do you need a bank at all?”
“Because banks like to lend money to people who really don’t need it.”
“Ah, well then, you’ve hit the nail on the head.”
In Sierra’s car, Libby hooked her seat belt as Sierra started the engine and pulled onto the tree-lined street. “Did you get any sleep last night? When I fell asleep at one, your lights were still on.”
“I got a little,” Libby said.
“I saw Jeremy’s post. Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. But I really do wish him the best. He’ll be a good father.”
“Then what’s going on with you?”
“Let’s get this loan taken care of, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
Sierra shot her a glance and seemed to grasp that it really was better to wait on the news. “As soon as we have the deal, you spill.”
“Done.”
They arrived at the bank in Charlottesville. After circling the block twice to find parking, Sierra eased into a spot a block away. Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in front of Harold S. Mason’s desk.
In his midthirties, Harold had thinning blond hair and a round face that expanded even wider when he grinned at Sierra. His attire was a charcoal-gray suit and a crisp white shirt accented with a bold red tie.
“Welcome back, Ms. Mancuso,” Harold said.
“Thank you for working us in today.” Sierra aimed her electric smile at Harold, who was already falling under her spell.
Clearing his throat, he adjusted his tie. “What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Mason, you said to return if I have sufficient collateral. And I do.” Sierra quickly introduced Libby and explained the new development. “May I introduce my friend, Libby McKenzie.”
Harold’s expression changed. “McKenzie. When I was a kid growing up in Bluestone, my doctor’s name was McKenzie.”
“That was my father,” she said. “He had a thriving practice for thirty years.”
“He was my doctor until I was eighteen. I took a bad fall when I was ten, and he was at the hospital when I arrived. Nicest guy. I think my mother had a crush on him.”
Libby remembered how her mother had complained half-heartedly that the mothers of her father’s patients were always flirting with her father. He had never paid them any mind, as her mother had always been quick to say, but they had never stopped trying, even up to his retirement.
“Dad loved his patients,” she said.
Harold smiled and nodded slightly in agreement. A few clicks on his keyboard, and Harold was looking at Sierra’s file. “The collateral securing the loan is a house on First Street?” he asked.
“That’s the one,” Libby said.
“It’s a great piece of property and well maintained. And you’re sure you want to use it to fully secure the loan? Restaurants have a low success rate.”
“I have faith in Sierra,” Libby said.
Harold smiled at Sierra. “She has a clear and concise business plan.”
“Like I said, I have faith.”
An hour later, the papers were signed, and Sierra’s loan was in the works. If you had money, the banks did not mind lending.
“Welcome to the club,” Sierra said, tipping her face to the sun.
“I hear the air is sweeter there,” Libby joked.
“It is.”
Back in the car, they had traveled only a few blocks when Sierra said, “First, thank you for backing me up. It means a lot. Second, what the hell is going on with you?”
“You’re welcome. And Elaine Grant is my birth mother.”
Sierra shot a glance at her but said nothing for several seconds, her gaze locked on the road ahead. “Say that again?”
“Elaine Grant is my biological mother.” Libby said the words slowly, as if she still did not believe them herself.
“How the hell did you find that out?” Sierra asked.
“I was looking for the deed to the house, and I found a letter Olivia Carter wrote to me when I was born.”
“Are you sure you have this right?”
“Two days ago, I visited with Elaine and asked her point blank. She unconditionally confirmed it on the spot.”
“Damn.”
Libby stared out at the rolling countryside as it buzzed past. “That’s some news, isn’t it?”
“But you asked your parents about all this when you were in middle school. I remember you were bummed that they had no answers.”
Libby remembered. She had been upset, and despite their denials, she had sensed they were holding back information. And when her mother had died, all thoughts of a birth mother had been washed away in grief. Maybe on some level, Libby had associated the grilling she had given her parents with her mother’s death. Her mother had died weeks later, and her father’s devastated expression still haunted her. She had blamed herself, but he had assured her she had done nothing wrong. However, she had never asked her father again.
“Damn,” Sierra said.
“Yep.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“There’s not much I can do right now. She had to head back to DC today. I’m sure when Elaine returns, we’ll talk more.”
“Ah, yeah. She has some explaining to do.”
“Right now, I don’t want to think about it. I want to see your new building again,” Libby said.
“It wouldn’t be much to look at without your help. I don’t know how I can thank you.”
“Don’t default on the loan, and toss in free coffee. That’ll make us square.”
“Deal.”
When they parked in front of the old mercantile store, Libby tipped back her sunglasses, pulling her long hair with it. Stepping out of the car, she studied the mercantile store. Days ago, when she had walked through it, she had regarded it with a sense of nostalgia. She had seen charm, character, and possibilities. Now that
she had skin in the game, she noticed the aging roof, the peeling paint on the exterior, and the broken windowpane.
“And you did have this place inspected?” Libby asked.
“Yeah. A friend from high school is a contractor now. He walked the place with me.”
“And he knows his stuff?”
“Yeah. He gave me a detailed list of the repairs so I could factor it into my loan.” She reached under the mat, grabbed a key, and opened the front door.
“You might want to hang on to that key,” Libby said.
“The contractor wanted to come through again last night. I told him to let himself in.”
The sound of a barking dog had her turning to see Colton’s truck pull up behind Sierra’s car. Kelce and Sarge were in the front seat, a ball in Kelce’s mouth and their tails wagging. Out of the car, he paused at the open window to remind the dogs to stay before walking toward Libby.
As his long legs chewed up the distance quickly, she decided she liked his walk. It was not rushed but confident.
“Sierra, don’t tell me you bought this place?” he asked.
“Lock, stock, and barrel,” she said, grinning.
His head cocked slightly. “It’s going to cost a fortune to fix.”
Sierra grinned. “It sure will. And by the way, Libby is my new business partner.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” Libby said. “This town needs a decent sandwich shop.”
“And light meals, sandwiches, cookies, all the good stuff that makes life worth living,” Sierra added.
“Looking forward to it,” he said. “Who’s doing the work?”
“John Stapleton,” she said.
“He’s a good man,” Colton said.
“I know,” Sierra said.
“Libby,” Colton said, shifting to her. “I thought you might like to know that we’re sealing the greenhouse windows. It should be ready for planting in about a week.”
“That project is moving fast.”
“Elaine is on a mission.”
“I guess when her mind is made up, there’s no turning back.” Libby tasted the bitterness souring her words, so she quickly smiled, as if that would help. “Did she leave for DC?”
“She’s leaving after lunch today.”
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