Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
HELEN WOKE UP WITH a hangover. She’d stayed up late drinking on her own—and it hadn’t been celebratory drinking. After the Christmas market, when Helen was home alone and reflecting on the events of the day, the glow of joy had begun to fade. Anger took its place.
Lots of anger. At her parents and aunt and uncle, definitely. But also, Helen was angry at herself. Why hadn’t she asked more questions about what had happened? What hadn’t she asked for a death certificate? In hindsight, she could see the holes in the story that she’d been fed, but yet, in all these years, she hadn’t questioned it.
Guilt ghosted through her. Had she pushed harder she might have found out about Adam herself and done so a lot sooner than fifty years after the fact.
With all those monsters roaming through her head, she’d ended up drinking way more vodka than she should have done. Now, after downing half an ocean full of water, she had to admit that the booze hadn’t done any good.
She remained as ticked off as she’d been last night when she’d started drinking.
Coffee. She needed a cup of good, strong coffee. Emphasis on the good . Also, she needed someone to whom she could vent. Because if she didn’t get this poison out of her system, she just might blow. Picking up her phone, she made a call to the one person in the world who could possibly understand. “Genevieve? I’m a mess. Can I come over? Will you put the coffee on?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Driving with a lead foot this morning, Helen arrived at her sister’s in less than ten minutes. She entered through the kitchen door and sailed straight for the coffeepot, then with a steaming mug in hand, went in search of her sister. She found Genevieve outside on the patio, wearing gardening gloves and holding a trowel. Her sister glanced up in surprise. “Wow, that was fast.”
Helen opened her mouth, and the words poured out like vomit. “I am so angry, Genevieve. It’s a good thing Dad is already dead; otherwise, I’d find a weapon and do the deed myself. Do you know how badly I wanted children? Four miscarriages and a baby who died at birth. Do you know how deeply I mourned?”
She whirled around and, spying Genevieve’s weed bucket, picked it up and carried it over to the rose bed. She went down on her knees and started yanking errant grasses and dandelions growing among the mulch. A moment later, Genevieve tossed a pair of gloves to the ground beside her. “Watch what you’re doing there. That variety of rose has spectacular thorns.”
“Perfect. Totally appropriate. I’m feeling pretty thorny myself.” Helen tore a dandelion from the dirt. “Not having children of my own was my deepest sorrow and regret. The desire for children led me to marry men I never should have married. It’s why I kept remarrying, you know. I was hoping to find what I’d lost. Lost, hah! What was stolen from me. He stole fifty years from me. He stole my family from me. He stole my child from me! And this was someone I loved. Why? Why did he do that, Genevieve? He was my father. He was supposed to love me!”
Helen rolled back on her butt and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Do you know how hard it has been all these years? Do you know how envious I’ve been of you? Every time you announced a pregnancy and then a successful birth, I was pea green with envy. It was so difficult to hide.”
Genevieve opened her mouth, then abruptly shut it.
“I didn’t hide it, did I?”
“Not very well, no. But you’d had all the miscarriages, so I understood. Of course, I didn’t know that… well… that it was… bigger.”
Bigger. Guess that’s one way to put it. Helen closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I’m a mess today, Genevieve.”
“That’s understandable.”
Helen glanced up and gave her sister a sharp look. There’d been a note in her voice. Just a hint of sharpness. Genevieve was stewing and trying not to show it.
Helen could guess what had her riled. “You’re pissed at me, aren’t you?”
Genevieve sighed. “Helen, you’ve supported me through a million crises over the years. Let me support you for a change. Today is about you and your feelings, not mine.”
Helen almost let it go. However, she was spoiling for a fight and Genevieve was handy. “Okay, then. I’m feeling like I want to talk about this now. Let’s just lay it out there and deal with it. That way it’ll be behind us.”
“Oh, Helen.”
Helen picked up one of the gardening gloves and slapped it against her thigh as she plowed ahead. “You probably understand why I didn’t tell you back when all this happened. You were young, and you wouldn’t have understood. But today you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you later on. After you grew up and the two of us became close.”
The light in Genevieve’s eyes signaled Bingo. “I thought we were close,” she said quietly, folding her arms. “I thought we shared everything.”
“And now you find out I kept the biggest secret of all to myself, and it pisses you off.”
Genevieve looked away, her gaze focusing on the pot of red geraniums decorating her front stoop. “Maybe you didn’t want to upset my relationship with Mom and Dad, especially Dad. I can see how that might have been the case.”
“Never mind that he’s been dead a long time,” Helen snapped and slung the glove away like a Frisbee.
Genevieve obviously didn’t care for her tone. She shifted her gaze from the spot on the lawn where the glove had landed and glared down at her sister. “All right, then. If you’re intent upon doing this, let’s do it. Why didn’t you tell me after Dad died?”
“Because I couldn’t. I tried, but I couldn’t.” With that, Helen’s anger drained away. After all, she wasn’t angry at Genevieve. The emotion rolling through her stomach was guilt. “I started to tell you many times, but I never could get the words out. The pain was so deep and sharp. It was in the marrow of my bones, and I did everything I could to seal it off, so I wasn’t forced to feel it.” Tears misted Helen’s eyes as she added, “Feeling it sucks. Yesterday, as wonderful as this news is, oh, Genevieve, it hurts. It’s all brand new again. It hurts.”
Helen broke then and tears spilled down her cheeks. She buried her head against her knees. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, honey, it’s okay. No, no, no. Don’t cry like that.” Helen felt her sister’s hand on her shoulder. “Get up, Helen. You need a hug. I need to hug you. However, I’m afraid if we both get down on the ground, with our old and creaky knees, we might be stuck there. Get up and let’s go sit on the garden glider. We’ll talk this through.”
Helen nodded and allowed her sister to help her up. Genevieve had a point about the knee thing.
Genevieve had a lovely white wicker set of furniture with deep cushions covered in a navy and pink floral pattern. She led Helen to the sofa, sat her down, and took a seat beside her. “First, I accept your apology, so that’s behind us. Let’s concentrate on your feelings. I think you need to open a vein and bleed. I’m here to make sure you don’t bleed out and to wipe up the mess. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So, where do you want to start?”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning is always good.”
“It’s fifty years ago, Genevieve. In all honesty, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember that I fell in love over the summer and he went away in the fall and my life fell apart in the winter. Mom and Dad and Uncle Ray and Aunt Grace convinced me that it was the best thing for me and for the baby that I put him up for adoption. So, that’s what I agreed to do. But those last weeks, the last month, I knew I couldn’t do it. I told them I wouldn’t do it. That’s when the shit hit the fan. Do you think he planned to steal my baby all along, Genevieve? Did I love someone that evil?”
Genevieve sucked in a long breath. “Okay, I really really, really hate to do this, but you asked. The act of taking your child and telling you the baby died was evil, yes. But I doubt he planned it. I imagine he saw an opportunity and took it. And this is the part that is going to get me into trouble. I think he probably acted out of love for you and maybe even the baby. Zoey has said the family who raised your son loved him dearly and were lovely people who gave him a wonderful childhood.”
“He had no right,” Helen snapped.
“He absolutely had no right. His actions were wrong. But, understandable. Times were different fifty years ago. It was still the beginning of the sexual revolution. Having children out of wedlock was frowned upon, especially in Wichita Falls, Texas. Listen, I am not defending what he did. I’m just trying to understand it. I think Mom and Dad knew how difficult your life would be as a single mother. By encouraging you to choose adoption, they were trying to save you from that struggle.”
“Do you think she knew what he did?”
“Mom?” Genevieve considered a moment, then shook her head. “I sincerely doubt it. She was not a good secret keeper, and besides, the guilt would have eaten her alive. I could see Uncle Ray being in on it, but not Aunt Grace. Especially since you lived with them. The females of our family might have supported putting the baby up for adoption, but taking your child and telling you he died? No. That’s something else entirely.”
“I think you’re probably right. Aunt Grace tried so hard to take care of me. I was such a mess.”
“But you came out of it.” Genevieve smiled encouragingly. “You survived and rose from the ashes and succeeded. Look at all you have achieved in your life.”
“What have I achieved?” Helen asked with disdain. “I’ve had three failed marriages. So what if I’ve had a successful career? Big whoop. What did I do that matters? Law school taught me to think critically and look through every lens and at every angle. But I never looked back at my own tragedy and saw the holes.”
Her tears flowed anew. “I wasn’t there to raise my son. I never kissed his booboos or read him a bedtime story. I never held his hand on the first day of school or lectured him about getting home by curfew. I didn’t caution him against drinking and driving or having unprotected sex! I wasn’t there when he went off to college or got married or when his precious little girl was born. I missed so much, Genevieve, and I’m so angry!”
“I know you are. You have every right to be angry. I’m angry for you. But you can’t say that your life hasn’t mattered. It has mattered very much. You’ve mattered to me.” Genevieve took hold of her sister’s hands and squeezed them. “How many times did you catch me when I fell? Too many to count. I don’t know how I would have survived without you. You’ve been the best sister and aunt to my children. And yes, your career mattered. You did a lot of good in your work, and your work provided you the means and opportunity to do a lot of good in your community. Feel sorry for yourself about missing half a century with your son, but you don’t get to deny or belittle the difference you made to the people who were in your orbit. You’re doing it still! Look at all the good you’ve done for Lake in the Clouds!”
Helen heard her sister’s words. She took them into her heart and held them close.
Genevieve drew Helen into her arms and held her, her head pillowed against her little sister’s bosom as Helen allowed herself to weep. She cried for what she had lost until her tears and much of her anger was spent, comforted by the arms of the person on this earth who knew her best and loved her most. Eventually, she said, “I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”
“I know. You probably need to try, though.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I usually am.”
“I love you, Genevieve. I’m sorry I never told you.”
“I love you, too, Helen. I forgive you for not telling me.”
“Thank you. It’s a powerful thing, forgiveness. Maybe someday I’ll be able to find a little in my heart.”
“Maybe someday,” Genevieve repeated. “So, do you want a Bloody Mary?”
Helen chided her sister with a look and asked for two Tylenol instead.
Freeway gave a warning bark just before the doorbell sounded. Zoey set down the novel she’d been reading and hurried to answer the door. “Batman! Thank you for coming.”
Then she threw herself into her father’s arms.
“A promise is a promise,” Adam Hillcrest said against her ear. He hugged her for a long minute, then stepped away and gave her a quick but thorough study. “What’s the emergency, baby girl?”
“It’s a really long story, Dad.”
Adam bent over and gave Freeway a good scratch. Rising, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her engagement ring. “Does it have something to do with this? When I went by your condo to pick up the items you’d requested, I couldn’t help but notice it.”
Zoey’s mouth twisted in a rueful grimace. “I left in a fit of temper.”
She accepted the ring from her dad and held it in the palm of her hand. The apartment had a small safe like the ones found in hotel rooms. She could store it there. Instead, without giving it too much thought, she slipped the engagement ring onto her finger.
Where it belonged. Yes, it felt like it belonged. Zoey was instantly comforted by that fact.
She showed her father to the apartment’s second bedroom and bath, then went to the kitchen to pour him a glass of iced tea while he stowed his stuff. When he rejoined her, he sipped his drink and studied her expectantly over the top of his glass.
Okay, show time. “I can’t sit still and do this, Dad. Are you up for a little exercise following your long trip?”
“I’ll do whatever you’d like.”
“Let’s play a little basketball. There’s a court not far from here, and I saw a ball in one of the closets.”
Adam smiled faintly. Many a time over the years, father and daughter had discussed the important news of the day during a game of “horse” beneath the basketball goal in their driveway.
“Sounds good.”
“Give me five minutes to change and convince Freeway he needs a little crate time.”
Zoey had checked out a handful of places they could use for this discussion, but she pinned her hopes on her first choice being free. Luck proved to be with her. Less than an hour after her dad had knocked on her apartment door, they took their places on the outdoor basketball court at Reflections Inn at Mirror Lake.
After a short warm-up, Adam held the ball and asked, “Standard rules?”
“Yes.”
Their “standard” rules for the game were personal and unique, having developed as a way for father and daughter to learn about each other’s day without it being an interrogation. In the Hillcrest version, the first player took his shot from the shooting spot of his choice. If player one made the shot, player two attempted the same shot. A miss by player two meant two earned a letter in the word-of-the-game, and player one got to ask a question. The word-of-the-game was invariably a medical term. The first person who spelled the WOG was deemed the loser.
Adam tossed the ball to Zoey. “And our word?”
“I had considered using stethoscope .”
He arched a brow and smirked. “Anticipate your story will take that long, hmm?”
“Not necessarily. You could be off your game, and I could win quickly. However, I’ve decided to go with flower .”
Adam frowned as Zoey flipped the coin. Her father won and the game began. Adam chose his spot, an easy-to-make warm-up bucket. He arced the basketball toward the net, and it sailed through with a whoosh. Zoey made the follow-up shot. After two more relatively easy shots, Adam stepped up the difficulty level. His ball fell through the net. Zoey’s rimmed out.
Adam said, “You have an F . My question is this. Have you brought me to Lake in the Clouds to show me the retail space you want to lease for your flower shop?”
Zoey had anticipated that her father would suspect that her issues with Cooper were behind the summons to Colorado using their personal “I need help” signal. So she’d expected him to ask about Cooper first. Her choice of flower assured it.
She thought it best to get that subject out of the way.
She responded to the question with a shake of her head. “No, Dad. You can rest easy because I’m not ready to pull the trigger on a flower shop. Not that I’ve abandoned the idea entirely, but I have decided to place a moratorium on big career decisions until I get my personal life figured out.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Having answered his question, she took position and sank her shot.
They traded three more shots before he stepped up the difficulty level and missed. Zoey made her attempt. “There’s your F , Dad.”
“Okay. What’s your question?”
Here goes. Zoey cleared her throat and said, “You always said that you weren’t bothered by the fact that you didn’t know anything about your birth family. I’m curious if that’s the whole story. Didn’t you ever want to know something about your roots, Dad?”
His blue eyes widened in surprise. “That question is out of left field.”
“We’re playing basketball, not baseball,” she quipped.
“Hmm.” He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Well, that is pretty much the whole story, yes. I had loving parents who gave me a great childhood. I grew up knowing who I was—Tom and Mary Hillcrest’s son—so I never felt anything lacking.”
He glanced away at that point and stared out toward the sapphire lake where sunlight glittered on the wind-choppy surface. He frowned. Thinking, Zoey surmised. She knew him well, so she was able to read in his expression the moment he put two-and-two together. “This is about your mother, not Cooper.”
No one could deny that her dad was quick. Zoey probably could have chosen a short word for today’s game.
She bounced the ball twice, lined up, took another shot, and made it. He repeated it. They worked through three more positions before she missed, gaining an L , and handing the question to him.
Adam had his powder ready. He’d not only put two-and-two together, but he was well into double digits. Bordering on triple. “Did you take a sample of your mother’s DNA and use it to discover her identity?”
Zoey hid a smile. This was working just as she’d hoped. Her dad was the ultimate problem-solver. He much preferred working his own way to a conclusion than being told the answer. She didn’t want the news about finding his birth mother to slap him across the face. Zoey wanted it to bloom like a flower in his brain. Hence, her choice of word-of-the-game. She answered, “No, I did not sample Mom’s DNA. I considered it, but that was a step too far for me. She’d protected her privacy all of these years. I couldn’t betray that.”
“Okay. Good. I went down that road myself in the past and reached the same conclusion.”
Zoey wasn’t surprised by the revelation, but she didn’t waste any time thinking about it. Instead, bracing herself, she lobbed her verbal grenade. “I did submit a DNA sample of my own to a selection of databases.”
His eyes widened, and he gave her a searching look. After a long moment, he said, “I thought you had decided against making your genetic data public.”
“Things changed. I changed my mind.” Zoey tossed the ball to her father. “Your turn.”
Adam bounced the ball three times and took his shot—the most difficult one yet. When Zoey invariably missed, he caught the rebound and held the ball. “That’s an O for you. So, things changed. Your mother passed away, taking her secrets with her. That brought your lack of family top of mind. Also, earlier this year, you met a young woman to whom you bear a striking resemblance. Now, you summon me to Lake in the Clouds, where this young woman lives. Zoey, have you found a genetic relative?”
“I have. Your shot, Dad.”
“It frustrates me that you’re using our game to dribble out information.”
“Dribble. Good one, Dad. I have my reasons. Your shot again.”
He missed it.
“That’s an L for you,” she announced. “Here’s my question. You do know that you’ve been the perfect father for me and that this yearning I’ve had to know something about my family roots has nothing to do with you, right?”
He sighed. “Thank you for that.”
Zoey deliberately missed her shot and retrieved the ball. “ W for me.” She tossed the basketball to her dad, saying, “Your question.”
He caught it and began a slow, stationary dribble. “All this together leads me to believe that you are attempting to protect me, most likely from something your mother did while we were married. I think you’ve used this game in an attempt to turn a big bang into a pop.”
She had never been very good at fooling her father.
“So, all that said, here’s my question. Did you discover a long-lost half-sister?”
Bomb defused. “No. It’s a logical conclusion, but no, Dad, I didn’t find a sister. However, I was notified of a more distant genetic match. Not through Mom, though. Through you.”
“Ah.” He pivoted and executed a perfect jump shot. Swish.
Zoey rebounded and immediately shot a clunker. The rim clanged, and her father caught the ball and tucked it beneath his arm. “You found my birth parents?”
Game over. “I found your mother.”
Adam stood as still as a statue for a long minute, absorbing the momentous news. Then, he nodded once. “Time out.”
He took the ball down the court. For the next few minutes, he ran and shot and rebounded. Ran and shot and rebounded. Again and again and again.
Zoey stood by and silently watched, letting him work through his thoughts. It didn’t take long.
“Head’s up.” He shot the ball toward her. “Two letters to go.”
Zoey caught the basketball and immediately turned to shoot, her aim wild. Her dad caught the ball. “ E .”
“She’s related to this young woman you met and lives here in Lake in the Clouds?”
“Yes.” She held out her hands for the ball. Adam threw it, and Zoey again took another poor shot.
The ball bounced off the board, and her dad caught it. “She wants to meet me?”
“Yes.” She caught the pass and held it. Game over. “Her name is Helen. Helen McDaniel.”
Adam tested the name on his lips. Then, as if the words were being pulled out of his mouth against his will, he asked, “Why didn’t she raise me? Did she say? Let me guess, teen pregnancy.”
Zoey hesitated. “I’ll tell you the details she shared with me if you want, but honestly, I think it’s her story to tell you, Dad. She doesn’t know you are here. She’s planning to travel to Texas on Saturday, but I thought doing it this way would be better.”
He nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
“Now? You’re ready to meet her now?”
“Yeah. Unless…” He glanced down at his gym shorts and T-shirt, then sniffed his pits. “Should I shower and change first?”
“You didn’t break a sweat. You’re perfect. You’re you. Well, you’re you when you’re not in a lab coat. There is a place here that I believe will make a perfect meeting spot. Let me make a call, and I’ll see what sort of timeline we can put together.”
Zoey walked over to the bench where she’d left the gear bag and dug around inside it for her phone. On the court, Adam resumed taking shots.
Scrolling through her contacts list, she hesitated and then made a game-day decision. The call connected after two rings.
“Hello, Zoey.”
“Hi. Do you have a minute? I have some news to share.”
“I have nothing to wear,” Helen grumbled to Cookie as she rejected yet another dress.
Her gaze shifted from the opened suitcase on her bed to the pile of clothes lying beside it. She owned nothing appropriate for the biggest event in her life. She needed something new, something chic and stylish and slimming, but that wasn’t happening out of her closet.
She’d have to run by Lake in the Clouds’ only boutique later today. Maybe for once the fashion gods would smile upon her and she’d find the perfect thing.
Yeah, right. The lack of decent shopping was the biggest drawback she’d discovered since moving to Lake in the Clouds. Feeling a little desperate, she returned to her closet. Maybe she’d missed something spectacular hanging in the back.
She heard the ping of a text and checked her phone. Genevieve. Are you home?
Yes. Cleaning my closet.
Hah. Hah. Picking you up in five.
Where we going?
Meet me outside.
“Well.” Helen looked at the dog. “I guess I’m going out.”
She was outside visiting with the mail carrier when her sister pulled up. She climbed into the passenger seat and said, “What’s up?”
“We need to run out to the lodge.”
“Oh? Is there a problem?”
“No. No.” Genevieve slowed to make a turn and flicked on her signal. “I had a call a few minutes ago. From Zoey.”
“Oh?” Helen pinned her sister with a look and caught her breath. She knew Genevieve. Her sister looked oh-so-innocent. Something had happened. “What’s wrong? What happened? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great. It’s wonderful. Honey…” Genevieve reached over and rested her hand on Helen’s knee. “Adam is here.”
Helen froze. “Adam? My Adam?”
“Yes. He’s waiting to meet you at the Glass Chapel.”
“But… but…” She glanced down at her jeans and Reflections Inn at Mirror Lake T-shirt. “We need to stop at Nina’s Boutique first. I need an outfit.”
“You’re fine. You’re perfectly dressed. Apparently, Adam and Zoey have been playing basketball at the lodge, and he’s in gym shorts and a T.”
“But I was going to wear the necklace Billy gave me for my birthday. I wanted to show it to him. Turn around, Genevieve. Let me get my necklace.”
“You can show him the necklace later. He’s waiting for you.”
“He knows about me? That I’m his mother?”
“Yes. Knowing you both, Zoey decided that this was the best way to handle the introduction.”
“Oh. Okay.” Helen laced her fingers in her lap. “I’m not ready, Genevieve.”
“You have about ten minutes to get that way. I suggest you get after it.”
The rest of the drive to the inn passed in a blur of nervous anticipation. Helen rummaged around in her purse, looking for her hairbrush and hoping to find lipstick. Since moving to the mountains, she’d fallen in with local customs and only wore makeup on special occasions. “This is the most special occasion ever,” she grumbled. “I should be wearing foundation.”
“You’re wearing a bra. That’s the most important foundation, and it’s one that way too many Lake in the Clouds women are choosing to forgo, in my opinion.”
“It’s mountain life. Can I borrow a lipstick?” Helen knew that Genevieve never left home without a selection of lipsticks. You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the girl.
“Sure. There’s a dusty cinnamon gloss that will be perfect for you. It’s just a touch of color.”
“Should I put it on my cheeks? I feel like all the blood has drained from my head.”
“Sure, put lipstick on your cheeks if you want to look like a clown when you meet your son.”
Helen fell silent for another few minutes before saying, “I think I’m going to be sick. You’d better pull over, Genevieve.”
Genevieve twisted her head sharply. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Helen. This is so not like you.” Genevieve pulled off onto the road’s shoulder and Helen immediately threw open the passenger door and hung her head outside of the car.
She didn’t lose her breakfast. A few moments of fresh air settled both her stomach and her nerves. “Okay,” she said, resuming her seat and shutting the door. “Let’s do this thing.”
Upon arriving at the inn property, Genevieve drove to the new parking lot beside the trailhead that led to the Glass Chapel. She parked, switched off the engine, then asked, “Want to do this alone or shall I go with you?”
“With me, please. I can’t do this without you, Genevieve.”
“Good. I really didn’t want to miss this.”
Before exiting the car, Helen opened her wallet and tugged the photograph of Billy that she’d taken to carrying from inside. She slipped the picture into her pocket, drew in a deep, bracing breath, then exited the car.
This distance from the parking lot to the chapel could be covered in an eight-minute casual walk. Helen and Genevieve made it in five. Approaching the front doors, Helen could make out two figures seated inside. She reached for Genevieve’s hand and squeezed it tight.
She and her sister stepped into the chapel, and the figures rose from their seats. They turned. Zoey and… “Oh, Billy.”
She had only seconds to see him clearly before tears flooded Helen’s eyes. He was tall with sandy blond hair and his father’s summer blue eyes. He smiled awkwardly as she approached. For a long moment, they stood staring at one another. Helen’s heart pounded. Her mouth was dry as dust—probably because all the moisture in her body was leaking out her eyes.
Finally, Zoey took control of the moment by saying, “Nana, this is my father, Dr. Adam Hillcrest. Daddy, this is my nana, Helen McDaniel.”
Helen couldn’t have spoken had her life depended on it.
He smiled his father’s bashful grin and opened his arms. “Would a hug be appropriate?”
Helen flew into his embrace. A dozen different emotions buffeted her as she held her only child for the first time. Joy, regret, euphoria, pain. Overriding all of it was love. Fierce, all-encompassing maternal love.
She could have remained in his arms forever, but eventually, his grip on her was released. He stepped backward and said, “Okay, I’m a little wobbly. Why don’t we sit down before I tumble over?”
“Good idea,” Helen said shakily.
It was only after he’d guided her to a seat that she remembered her sister. “Oh, Genevieve. Adam, this is my sister, my best friend. Your aunt Genevieve.”
Smiling indulgently, Genevieve asked, “Do I get a hug, too?”
“Absolutely.”
While her sister shared a hug with Helen’s son— my son! —Helen feasted on the sight of the man and listened closely to his voice as he exchanged greetings with Genevieve. He had a deep, bass voice, but she didn’t notice any accent.
Genevieve said, “I’m going to sit off to the side and let you and your mother get acquainted, but first, I want to tell you that our family just loves your Zoey.”
Adam lit up with a smile. “Thank you. She’s my heart.”
That started Helen’s waterworks again, and Genevieve retrieved a small packet of tissues from her purse. She handed it to Helen and then took a seat. Adam pulled a chair out of the row and angled it so that he and Helen could better see each other. Sitting down, he propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “Where do we begin?”
Helen had a ton of questions, and she was tempted to fire them off scattershot. However, her legal training’s appreciation for organization kicked in. She said, “Tell me about your parents and your childhood. Zoey says it was a happy one?”
“It was. Mom and Dad had been trying to adopt for years.”
Mom and Dad. Mom. Of course, he called the woman who’d raised him Mom. They’d have to come up with a name for him to call her. “Mama,” perhaps?
Don’t get the cart before the horse, Helen.
“I grew up in Florida,” Adam continued. “I played every youth sport imaginable. My dad liked to coach, so…”
He spoke for a full twenty minutes, prodded by questions, and finished with a summary of his current job. Helen still had a million questions, but when he asked her to tell him about herself, Helen realized she wanted him to know her, too.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out Billy’s picture. “This is a photo of your father. Billy Poteet was the love of my life. What has Zoey shared about our story?”
He gave his daughter a quick glance. “Nothing. All I know is that a DNA database match led her to you.”
Helen shared her story. His expression was easy for her to read—that similarity to his father, most likely—and his shock and the flash of anger he displayed on her behalf proved to be a soothing balm to her soul.
Adam said, “It might help you to know that I had a great life. I was happy and safe and given every opportunity. My parents were great people. I loved them deeply. I did wonder about my birth parents, but I never once felt unwanted or abandoned. In our house, giving a child up for adoption to an infertile couple was just about the greatest gift a mother can give. You were our hero, Helen.”
In a shaky voice, she clarified, “You didn’t resent me?”
“Absolutely not. I was grateful to you. We talked about it some as a family. We figured you were probably too young to raise a child.”
“We were young. And Billy never got the chance to even know you were on the way. But I wanted you, Adam, and I was going to keep you and give you the best life I could manage. Then my father betrayed me, and here we are.” Bitterly, she added, “Fifty lost years.”
“Well, we have now, and God willing, many more years ahead of us. That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Oh, it’s very good.”
Beyond the tale about his father, she didn’t spend too much time on details about her life post-Billy. Frankly, there wasn’t much to tell beyond a CV of her work history. At some point during the discussion, she heard Genevieve’s phone ring. She stepped outside to answer the call and soon requested that Zoey join her.
That’s when Helen decided to take advantage of her granddaughter’s absence. “Would you tell me about Zoey’s mother?”
Adam sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “That’s a tough one. Has Zoey mentioned that she recently passed away?”
“She did.” Helen summarized what the young woman had shared.
Adam absorbed the information, considered a few moments, then said, “Jennifer worked the early morning shift at a doughnut shop I frequented, and we got friendly. She had an air of sadness about her that I wanted to chase away. When I asked about her family, she said she had no one. She needed me, and well, I needed her, too. I fell for her hard. I believed then—I still believe—that she fell for me, too. So when she got pregnant, we got married, despite the fact that I was still in college. I was lucky in that my parents continued to pay for my education. Things were tight, but we were happy.”
He paused for a moment, then added, “We were really happy.”
Adam rose from his seat and walked toward the wall of windows. Facing the forest, he said, “I always knew she had secrets, but in the beginning, they didn’t seem important. We were living in the now, looking toward the future. Things started to change after Zoey was born.”
He fell quiet for a long moment. “Was it postpartum depression?” Helen asked. She had firsthand experience with that condition. For months after Adam’s “death,” she’d barely functioned.
“No. I don’t think so. It was more paranoia than depression. She was scared of everything, and she wouldn’t let me help her. It was always there, hovering in the background, but we managed. She had a bad spell when Zoey was three and didn’t leave the house for a month.”
“That must have been so hard.”
“I was in medical school by then. I wanted to heal Jennifer. Lord knows, I tried. But she shut me out. She was hiding from something real or imagined—I never discovered which. It got a little better for a while, but then I came home from school one day and found a note that Zoey was at the neighbor’s house. Jennifer had taken off. She stayed gone a few months, then showed back up with little explanation.” He turned around and faced Helen. Lines of strain etched into his brow, and his voice sounded tired as he added, “That was the first of a series of disappearances. By the time Zoey was in third grade, I could see how destructive these jaunts of Jennifer’s were. They tore Zoey up. Jennifer had no explanation or defense. Well, I’d had enough. I told her if she ever left again, I would divorce her. She did, and I did.”
A faraway look came into his face. He added, “I wish I could have healed her—for Zoey, for myself. Whatever she was running from or hiding from, real or imagined, took over her world. It was more important to her than we were.”
The need to comfort welled inside Helen. She rose and walked over to her son. “You did what was best for your daughter.”
“Was it? I don’t know. In hindsight, I think I might have royally screwed up. The problems she’s having with Cooper are connected to her mother.”
Helen frowned and glanced toward the door through which Genevieve and Zoey had disappeared. “You don’t think it’s normal cold feet?”
“Is that what you think it is?” he asked, hope ringing in his tone.
“Honestly, I don’t know. We’re just hearing and seeing one side of the story, and I’m sure there’s lots she hasn’t shared. That said, I don’t think giving her a big, thick pair of wool socks would hurt anything.”
Adam smiled his father’s crooked grin. Both he and Helen turned toward the sound of the door opening. Genevieve walked in, all smiles. Zoey appeared a little shell-shocked. Helen asked, “What’s up?”
“Willow called,” Genevieve said. “She’s over at the inn getting ready for tomorrow’s wedding, and she got a call from someone looking for a room this weekend.”
Helen could read her sister like a book. Glancing at Adam, she said, “We might not need those wool socks after all.”
Zoey looked at them and confirmed Helen’s suspicions. “Cooper is on his way.”