Chapter 8
8
Even though Jake’s parents had divorced several years ago, they still maintained a reasonably amicable relationship. Well, on a good day, anyway. It wasn’t unusual for him to be invited to his mother’s for a meal and for his father to be there too.
But when his mother texted him a dinner invitation for that evening, Jake wondered if Alexia had already been gossiping to her about Molly Parker. It wouldn’t have surprised him.
As Jake walked through the front door of his childhood home, the aroma of roast lamb filled him with a strong sense of nostalgia. Memories of Sunday dinners with family and friends gathered around the large dining table, where they’d stay late into the night, discussing music, movies, and novels. Religion and politics were off-limits—well, at least until his father pulled the stopper out of the port bottle.
“Hi.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.
Still dressed in her realtor skirt and jacket, complete with shiny name badge on the lapel, his mother, Hazel, looked up from stirring a pan of gravy. “You look tired, darling. I hope you’re getting enough sleep. How’s the bakery going?”
“Good. Busy.” It was his standard response. He didn’t want his mother worrying about him. She’d had more than enough on her plate in recent months.
“And Ava? What’s happening with you two?”
Jake hesitated, forming his response. “Why would you even ask me that? She’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Don’t get all defensive. I wish you’d get out and about more—you work way too hard.”
“I went surfing just this morning.” Jake had expected her to quiz him further about his love life, but for once, she’d changed the subject. “Where’s Dad?”
“Out in the garden on his phone.” She opened the kitchen window. “Henry! Dinner’s almost ready.” She handed Jake the wooden spoon. “Take over here while I go and get changed, will you?”
He grinned. “You’re trusting me with the gravy?”
“Yes, so don’t mess it up.”
Jake waited until they’d finished their main course before broaching the subject of Molly Parker. Ever since reading Jesse’s will, even though they’d never met, his mother had taken an instant dislike to Molly. He’d wondered, more than once, if she was a little angry at Jesse for not telling her about the girl he’d spent the summer with eight years before.
Jake watched his mother carry an apple cake and bowl of whipped cream to the table. After the huge meal they’d just finished, more food was the last thing he needed. “Before we eat dessert, I want to tell you both something.”
His mum frowned as she slipped back into her chair. “Is everything all right?”
Jake hesitated. She still wore her grief as a cloak of anger, and in the months since Jesse’s death, he’d witnessed a marked change in her as she fell from a place of hope into the depths of despair. The kind of despair he’d struggled to claw his own way out of. “I’ve been talking to Annabelle. Molly Parker’s turned up.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Here? In Clifton Falls?”
He nodded. “She met with Annabelle a few days ago.”
Her frown deepened. “I don’t understand. That woman didn’t even bother to attend Jesse’s funeral but turns up when there’s money coming her way. Who does that?”
“Molly Parker, apparently,” his father said without an ounce of emotion.
She turned to her ex-husband. “And you don’t have a problem with that?”
“Well, we don’t know the details, do we?”
“Dad’s right,” Jake said. “And letting our imaginations run wild about her relationship with Jesse is counterproductive, don’t you think?”
“I’m not imagining. I’m surmising. There’s a distinct difference.” She stood and picked up a small box of tissues from the sideboard before returning to her chair. Even now, the tears were never far away, and Jake seldom knew how to comfort her. “Have you met her, Henry?”
“Me? No. Why would you even ask me that?”
“You’re the executor of Jesse’s will. I thought she might have already been in touch.”
“What? And you think I’d keep that to myself?”
With her nose in the air, she broke away from her ex-husband’s gaze. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to think anymore.”
“Okay, settle down.” Jake raised both hands. He’d been fighting to keep the peace between his parents for months, and despite his understanding of the grieving process, he was tired of it. “Annabelle passed on my details, so I’m expecting Molly to call any day. If she doesn’t, I’ll contact her. I’ll let you both know as soon as I hear anything.”
A tissue clenched in one hand, his mother folded her arms across her chest. “Tell me again what your brother said about her.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Their father was the only one Jesse had confided in when he changed his will. And while Jake had wanted to find out more about this woman who’d been living in New York, an opportunity to talk freely about her never really arose in the weeks leading up to his twin’s death—apart from once—and that conversation had been lacking in any detail. “Dad?” He glanced at his father. “Jesse confided in you more than he did me.”
“Look, we’ve been through this already.” His father sighed. “They met when Jesse was living in Tulloch Point, struck up a friendship over that summer, and he wanted to acknowledge her in some small way after he’d gone.”
“And he never saw her again?” his mother asked.
“No. Well, not that I’m aware of,” he replied. “Apparently, she’s been living somewhere in the States.”
“Do you think they stayed in touch?”
“They weren’t friends on social media,” Jake said. “I checked.”
“Well, they must have been friends at some stage,” his father added. “More than friends, I suspect. You know what Jesse was like. He loved the ladies.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so matter-of-fact about her, Henry.” His mother lifted her water glass and took a sip. “That girl broke our son’s heart, and knowing you, you’ll still welcome her with open arms. This whole thing makes me sick.”
Jake glanced at his father, expecting a reassuring response, but the older man remained silent. Despite their divorce, his parents still bickered like they did when he was a teenager. It was one of the reasons he’d vowed never to marry when he was younger.
But now, Jake wasn’t so sure. Losing Jesse had put a kink in his ambitions, and the thought of going through life without a wife and children now seemed a foreign concept.
His mother turned to him. “And what did Jesse tell you?”
Jake thought back to that cool, late spring day. He’d found Jesse resting in the media room, meters from where they now sat. His twin seemed in an especially poignant mood, and it had broken Jake’s heart to see him so accepting of his fate.
He cleared his throat. “It’s just as Dad said. Life happened, and they lost contact. That’s all I know.”
“So, she left him when the going got tough. Is that what you’re saying?” His mother pulled another tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes. “Disappeared when he needed her most. Who does that? Hurts another human being in that way?”
“Mum. Stop. We don’t know that.” His need to defend Molly surprised Jake. After all, his mother was only voicing what he’d already been thinking.
“Well,” she continued, “one thing I do know is that boy would never hurt a fly. And how did it make him feel? Even if they were only friends, she stayed away when he needed her, and now she’s home from her travels with her hand out and wallet gaping.”
Jake sighed, desperate for the meal to be over so he could leave. “It was Jesse’s wish, Mum.”
“Do you think he was in love with her?”
That was a question he’d asked himself many times. “Maybe. He didn’t say.” Jake suspected it might have been the case. His twin never stayed with anyone for long, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of falling in love. Just the way Jesse spoke of Molly that day seemed out of character; however, speculation wouldn’t help this cause.
“But you boys talked all the time.”
“Not so much the summer he met Molly.”
“Anyway,” his father said, “let’s put this aside for now and enjoy our dessert, shall we? She’s probably a very nice girl.”
“See, this is what I mean,” his mum said. “You always take the easy way out. Good old Henry, never one for conflict. You just want to sweep everything under the carpet and pretend it’s not there.”
“Rubbish,” his father replied. “Jesse’s instructions were clear, and as such, I plan to carry them out as he intended, not second-guess his wishes.”
In the frosty silence that followed, his mother cut the cake, passed a slice to Jake, and then a much smaller piece to her ex-husband. “I want to meet her. Find out what on earth she’s up to.”
“Is that wise?” His dad’s spoon hovered over the bowl of cream before he scooped up a large dollop and dropped it onto his plate.
“Well, I assumed you wouldn’t approve, but as Jesse’s mother, I have every right. Jesse told me everything, so why did he never mention this Molly girl? It makes no sense.”
Unable to eat another mouthful, Jake pushed his plate aside while considering his mother’s argument. While he understood why she wanted to meet Molly, he wasn’t convinced it would be beneficial for her to do so. Like his father, he hated confrontation, and Jesse had been much the same, telling their mother only what he wanted her to know. The rest he kept to himself until the day he died. “Let me talk to her, then I’ll set something up.” He paused. “And, Mum, can we please keep Alexia out of our personal affairs?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
What could he possibly say to that?