Chapter 56 Deidre
Deirdre didn’t know what had come over her to spill her final secret—the biggest of them all—to Alice of all people.
She would like to put it down to the guilt she felt over how Eloise had taken the news about the affair, but she knew it was
more than that.
The secret had been weighing on Deirdre for so long. Her mother and aunt had been the only ones who knew, and they were both
dead now. Deidre had never even told the baby’s father, not that he deserved it, that sweet-talking cheat.
For a while now, the secret had been begging to be shared, and with someone who might understand. And although Alice and Deirdre
had lost their daughters very differently—one to death, one to adoption—an intimate connection had been made between them.
Though it should have been Fred she talked with first.
Many times Deirdre had meant to tell him about how she’d gotten pregnant the fall of her freshman year and gone away to her
aunt’s house in Iowa and put the baby girl up for adoption and then returned to college the next school year like nothing
happened.
But she hadn’t wanted Fred to see her differently or judge her for her checkered past. So she had decided to wait until their
marriage was on solid footing before revealing the news. Then that time had come and gone and suddenly it felt like she had
passed the point of no return. To tell him so many decades into their marriage would be to admit she had been keeping it from
him all these years.
But she would have to tell him now. She couldn’t have Alice knowing about her daughter and not her own husband.
Deidre hoped Fred would understand, hoped he could see how this was tied to everything. Why she was always talking about needing
antidepressants and sleep meds. Why she wanted Fred to retire and spend more time with her so she didn’t have to be alone
with her thoughts.
Why she always got so triggered when Eloise talked up her girls. Why she always had a drink in her hand because that at least
numbed the pain, though only for a moment. Why she was terrified of getting older because it might mean dying without ever
getting to know her daughter.
Deirdre finished the loop of the walk she usually did with Eloise. Being alone with her thoughts wasn’t quite as terrible
today.
Deirdre had been so scared to share her secret. She had figured it would mean losing the intimacy of the one thing she had
between her and Baby Lilac. But to her surprise, Deirdre found herself feeling closer to her daughter than ever before. Like
telling someone else about her made Deirdre more of a mother.
She passed Camille, who was going door-to-door on her bicycle.
“Deirdre!” she said, approaching. “You’re looking wonderful today.”
Deirdre said a curt good morning. Like the other ladies, she was not very fond of the current mayor.
“Can I count on your vote this November?” Camille asked with a big, white smile. She handed Deirdre a new flyer, debuting
the slogan “Preserve Mackinac’s History.” It was quite the contrast to Gigi’s mantra: “Move Mackinac Forward.”
Camille respected the convention of this island, the tradition. As exciting as Georgiana’s campaign was, Deirdre could never
vote for her. She was far too progressive, far too disruptive.
The island ladies judged Camille for her cosmetic work and her big hair and big boobs. She was very tacky, very fake. A Dolly
Parton knockoff.
But Deirdre wondered how much of what people said about Camille might be a caricature. And though Deidre had long preferred caricatures to real people, she found herself changing her tune.
It took a lot to devote yourself to a town for as long as she had. Camille could go too far sometimes, but who didn’t? And
like everyone on this island, Camille Welsh was somebody’s daughter.
“You’ve got my vote,” Deirdre told her. “But don’t tell anyone I told you that.”
Camille gave a big smile and zipped her lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”