Chapter 17 Tessa
TESSA
Dear Maryse,
As one mother to another, I’m writing to you for advice.
It’s been many years since I was raising children, and when I say “many years,” I mean more than a century.
Now I find myself in that position again.
Although we have not talked frequently, I have often thought what a wonderful mother you must have been and continue to be.
After all, your children have turned out so wonderfully.
Isabelle is so brave, Alec such a leader, and Jace, well, I can only tell you that I know what an excellent example of a Herondale is, and he is one.
I also know you have experienced profound loss and grief, and that you understand it.
I am writing to you about Kit. He, too, is a Herondale, and I believe he will be an excellent example of one as well.
But, like all Herondale men, (and the girls, too— believe me, I know!) he is very private, even secretive.
On the whole, Jem and I wish nothing but to respect his boundaries.
But when does worry require one, as a parent, to intervene?
A few nights ago after dinner, I stopped by Kit’s room to give him his phone (he is forever leaving it somewhere), and I found he was not there.
Glancing out the window, I could see him outside, standing in our front garden.
He had his back to me and appeared to be staring off into the distance, but I could tell by his posture and the movements of his shoulders that he was agitated.
Concerned, I followed him outside. I came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him.
Perhaps I came too quietly. I realized immediately he was talking to a ghost—I’ve had experiences of such things before.
As is always the case in this kind of situation, I could hear only his side of the conversation.
Kit said, “If you keep trying to talk to me about this, I’m not going to be able to see you anymore.
” Then he said, “Of course I believe in forgiveness. But some things are so terrible you never want to revisit them.” There was a long pause.
I thought maybe it was over. But he spoke again.
“Don’t you understand? Every time you bring him up, it tears another piece out of my heart.
” He turned around, and of course he saw me, standing on the path outside the house.
He didn’t say anything, only gave me a sort of betrayed look, and ran inside.
The next day he pretended nothing had happened.
I’ve always assumed there are ghosts at Cirenworth—Kit informed me there is a ghost dog he plays with sometimes, a retriever I think—but I can’t imagine any of them as malicious or hurtful.
And indeed it didn’t sound as though he were afraid of the ghost, but rather that the ghost brought back dark memories of his past. Perhaps of his father?
I don’t know what to do. Jem thinks we should let him work it out on his own, as he is a teenager, but then I remember my first two children, when they were teenagers, how there were times when they did need my help.
(I am very much hoping that Kit is not having a tempestuous affair with a ghost. Certainly I don’t want to go through that again.)
It’s keeping me up nights worrying. If there’s any advice you have, I’d love to hear it.
* * *
I’m enclosing a picture of Jace and Clary with Kit and Mina, last time they visited. They look so happy!
All best,
Tessa