Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
ANNIE
How could these two people be responsible for making my mother?
I sit with Miles on my grandmother’s cream-colored couch with my hands clasped together in my lap. I’m careful to hook one foot behind my ankle so that I’m sitting politely. That seems like the kind of thing that matters here.
“Can I offer either of you a sparkling water?” My grandmother’s hands flit around the bar area along the wall behind the other couch. “I would ask one of the members of staff to make tea if they were here. We weren’t expecting company so we’re short-staffed for your visit, I’m afraid.”
I’m speechless.
Miles nudges me with his elbow as he answers, “Sparkling water is fine, thanks.”
My grandmother pauses and turns to face us. She places a hand delicately against her collarbone. “We’re thrilled you’re here, even unannounced as you were.”
A laugh nearly escapes me at the gesture.
My mom does that kind of thing when she’s being dramatic. Kelly Kirkpatrick doesn’t seem to be acting. At least now I know where my mom picked up some of her faux mannerisms. I thought they all came from old sitcom re-runs.
“So, Miles…” My grandfather smooths his hand over the front of his navy sweater and then twists his gold watch on his left wrist. “You’re Annie’s…?” He trails off, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“Friend,” I answer at the same time Miles says, “Boyfriend.”
We turn to look at each other and Miles frowns at me briefly before turning his attention back to my grandfather. “I recently stole Annie away from a Hartford heir. We’ve only been together a few weeks.”
I want to die of embarrassment.
My grandmother scoffs. “A Hartford? Good riddance.” She walks over to hand Miles and I glasses of sparkling water. I take a polite sip as she continues, “That family proves that being old money doesn’t necessarily mean a person has class.”
“I don’t know,” my grandfather muses. “The eldest son could have a promising political career ahead of him.” He directs his full attention to me. “Were you dating the eldest son?”
I shake my head. “I dated Cameron, the younger brother.”
“Ah, yes, that ended for the best then.” He nods approvingly.
I am beyond confused about why we’re discussing my dating history. Neither of them has asked yet what I’m doing here. They both seem excited that I’m here, which is not the reception I thought I would get from two people who have chosen not to have a relationship with me my whole life.
Baffling. This whole thing is baffling.
“You said your family name was Morino.” My grandmother gives Miles an assessing look as she takes a seat on the other couch beside my grandfather. “I’m not familiar with that lineage.”
Miles casually slips an arm around my waist. “I changed my last name when I turned eighteen to honor my mother who passed away a few years ago. My father is Elias Duffy.”
“Oh.” My grandmother looks over to my grandfather. Her expression is blank but I sense a growing tension as the two of them share a silent, long look.
Miles’ grip around my waist tightens. “I hope you won’t judge me too harshly by my father’s business choices. I’m closer to my uncle, Luca.”
That seems to relax the room.
“Oh, yes, I know Luca Duffy. A fine man.” My grandfather nods approvingly.
“Not the friendliest fellow,” my grandmother chimes in. “He does donate quite a bit of money though, doesn’t he? We attend several of the same charity’s functions.”
“He tries to volunteer his time as much as possible too.” Miles’ grip loosens as the atmosphere of the whole room relaxes. Based on their reaction toward his father, he was right to rip that bandage off and then follow up by mentioning Luca.
Miles is navigating this conversation with my grandparents like a pro. I don’t know how I would have managed this without him.
My grandmother clasps her hands together and smiles brightly at me. “You seem to be doing quite well at college then.”
“Because of who my boyfriend is?” I blurt out, my eyebrows shooting up into high arches as I stare shocked at her audacity. Why am I shocked? That is exactly the kind of thinking that led her to pressure my mom to marry my father even though he was useless when she got pregnant.
“Well…” My grandmother doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that.
My grandfather shifts around in his seat. “Don’t discount the importance of having a wonderful partner now that you’ve entered adulthood.” His voice grows louder as he speaks more sternly. “A good education is important too, of course. But no man is an island and loneliness takes a heavy toll if you find yourself successful but alone.” He reaches for my grandmother’s hand. “I’m lucky to have the most wonderful partner. The success of my career would have meant nothing if I didn’t have the privilege of coming home to this woman.”
“Oh, Edward. Don’t be so dramatic.” My grandmother rolls her eyes with a smile, eyes shining with pleasure.
I’m torn over how to feel about the direction of this conversation.
On one hand, I hate the insinuation that my dating choices could be a symbol of success. On the other hand, hearing my grandfather speak so reverently about his wife is sweet in a way I didn’t anticipate.
“Annie is very intelligent.” Miles jumps in to take his turn defending me. “She has a lot of reasons to be proud of herself that have nothing to do with her dating life. But I do consider myself incredibly lucky to have a chance to show her the appreciation she deserves.”
He’s laying the praise on a little too thick. I can feel my cheeks flush.
“Very diplomatic.” My grandfather nods approvingly.
My grandmother leans forward in her seat. “We know that Annie is brilliant.” The skin around her eyes is wrinkled, showing her age. She studies me closely. “We kept up with you, you know. I’m sure you think we didn’t.”
Of course, I think they didn’t. Why—and more importantly how —would they have kept up with anything about me?
My grandmother holds up a finger for us to wait before she stands and leaves the room.
“She’ll be right back,” my grandfather reassures us.
I glance over at Miles and he winks at me. Reassuring me that he’s here with me for all of this. I wish I could tell him right now how grateful I feel to have him beside me.
My grandmother returns with a stack of thick scrapbooks. She hands them to me before taking her seat again on the other couch. She clasps her hands in her lap and smiles as she nods encouragingly toward the books.
“Go ahead, have a look.”
I open the top scrapbook and stare down in awe. The very first page is a picture of newborn me alongside a small newspaper clipping with a birth announcement from the small town my mom and I first lived in before she got the bed and breakfast up and running.
Under my photo, there are two baby pictures I don’t recognize. They aren’t of me.
“Are these my parents?” I guess.
My grandmother nods. “Your mother on the left and your father on the right. He decided to go traveling after your mom left but his parents were wonderful about supplying some baby photos of him for us to compare you to.”
The disdain is thick in her voice. She brushes at imaginary lint on her pants to avert her gaze from mine.
There’s something comforting about hearing her mention my father with disdain.
I flip to the next page of the scrapbook and am surprised to see a copy of my first school photo. Kindergarten me stares serious-eyed at the camera, only a small smile on my lips. I remember being terrified of the photographer who liked slightly too much like the scary mall Santa for my taste.
My mom still laughs about how hilarious she thinks the photo is. I will never live that fear down.
“How did you get this?” I tap the photo. As far as I know, this would have never appeared anywhere online. Not publicly, at least.
She politely clears her throat before answering. “Money opens a lot of doors. Including some doors that let us keep up with our only grandchild over the years.”
I flip quickly through the next pages just to see for myself the evidence of their snooping. All of my muscles go taut with tension as I realize the lengths they went to to get updates about me. They were willing to do anything except reach out and have an actual relationship with Mom and me.
“Why would you do this?” Mile’s tone is short as he addresses my grandparents, looking between the two of them. “Why would you stalk a child instead of being in her life?”
My grandfather begins, “You have to understand—” He stops speaking abruptly when my grandmother reaches out and places her hand on his knee, shaking her head at him.
“We shouldn’t make any more excuses. The truth is, we made a terrible mistake when your mother told us she was pregnant. We chose to worry about her child more than we worried about our own. We thought you would be better off with your parents married and both in your life. We were shortsighted not to prioritize your mother’s needs when she was so clearly telling us what they were.”
She continues in a quivering voice, “Hannah kept telling us that Franklin wasn’t prepared to be a father but we thought she was being impulsive. We didn’t find out until later that he…”
As kind as she’s being by trailing off, my mom has never kept anything from me. “Later you found out he paid her off to keep me away,” I finish for her.
She nods morosely.
“That boy never wanted to grow up. He still hasn’t even now,” my grandfather grunts out. “Doing business overseas to avoid having any responsibilities at home.”
“Franklin isn’t cut out to be any kind of father.” My grandmother turns her nose up slightly toward the ceiling. “The Dandridges though, his parents would love to meet you if you ever wanted to consider a relationship with them. They’ve never forgiven Franklin for sending their grandchildren away. They wanted to reach out to your mother a few times over the years but none of us were ever sure how to reach out in the hopes of repairing things.”
“A phone call would have been a good start,” Miles mutters under his breath.
My grandparents glance at each other and then nod. “Yes,” my grandfather agrees. “We should have set our egos aside and made the call.”
The air is thick with tension. These two failed my mom and failed me by being too proud to reach out and attempt to mend bridges. There’s a sincerity to them though as they humble themselves now to admit to me the mistake.
I don’t think it’s fair that I’m the one that had to reach out but I know life isn’t always fair. And sometimes doing the right thing is hard.
If doing the right thing was easy wouldn’t I have already reported Professor Parks regardless of the potential consequences or risk of not being believed? Doing the right thing can be complicated.
They’re trying now.
Plus, they obviously left the door open for this moment in the hopes I would someday seek them out. Why else would they have made sure I would be welcomed at the front guard stand?
“You should have a conversation with Mom,” I tell them.
"We will,” my grandmother agrees quickly.
I stand up, needing to get some space from all of the emotions I’m feeling. I think I’m ending the estrangement between my grandparents and my mom and me. I feel a sense of overwhelm that I need to process.
Miles stands and places his hand on my lower back supportively.
“Thank you for inviting us in today,” I tell my grandparents as they also stand, looking uneasy as if expecting me to bolt. “I don’t want this to be the only time I talk to you.” I step forward and hand the scrapbooks to my grandmother. “But I think you should talk to my mom so that we can all four sit down together the next time.”
“Of course.” My grandfather takes the scrapbooks from my grandmother and places them on the side table.
She steps forward and holds her hands out. “Do you think I might be able to… give you a hug?”
“I would like that.”
I melt a little when her arms wrap around me. I can’t remember the last time any woman besides my mom hugged me. I squeeze her back, feeling a sense of belonging I’ve been missing practically my whole life.
I’ll never quite be a high society Kirkpatrick like they are, but there’s a sense of belonging here that makes me believe I was right to follow the impulse to come.
When we separate, my grandfather offers me a handshake. I’m happy to partake in that level of comfort too. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who is much of a hugger. I’m pretty sure my mom said something to that effect once about him too.
And that’s okay. We can all meet each other where we are and just do our best to figure out how we might move forward together.
“Let us walk you to the door,” my grandmother offers.
Miles stays quiet, following behind me as my grandparents lead the way back to the front door. That quiet support means a lot as I think about how I want this first meeting to end. I feel like there’s one more thing I need to say. Something important for them to hear.
I wait until Miles and I step out onto the front landing to turn back and look from my grandfather to my grandmother.
“I didn’t grow up wealthy.” I glance up at the massive house they live in where my mom grew up. “But I didn’t want for anything, either. Your daughter is a great person and an even greater mom. You should be proud of her.”
My grandmother takes my grandfather’s arm and leans into him slightly. “We are,” she says. “I promise we are.”