Chapter 10 #2
Anna poured water for herself and Claudia. “But how does Hattie fit into this? Did your mother know about her existence?”
“I don’t know. I assume not. There was nothing in her things to suggest she’d had any contact with him at all. That she knew anything about his circumstances.”
“I still don’t understand,” Claudia said. “You found the card two years ago. So what did you do? You tracked him down?”
“At first, I did nothing. I was missing my mother horribly. I decided that if she didn’t want me to know about the card, then I’d forget I ever saw it.
I wanted to respect her wishes. Also, I was angry—thinking back about how very hard her life was back at the beginning and blaming him.
” Her head started to ache. She finished her water and handed the glass back to Anna.
“But I couldn’t forget it. And then a few months ago I decided to find out more so I hired someone.
I wanted to know if my father was alive, and what he was doing.
I didn’t have plans to get in touch or anything.
I just wanted to know what happened to him. It felt like unfinished business.”
“I can’t believe you hired a private investigator.” Claudia was fascinated. “I’ve only ever seen that happen in the movies. I didn’t know people did that in real life.”
Anna was focused on Erica. “How much did you find out?”
“Quite a bit.” Erica thought of the file on her computer.
“He moved to England right after he left my mother. I guess if you’re going to run, you might as well run far.
He worked there for a while, then quite a few years later met a woman who he married.
They had one child. Hattie. His wife died a week after giving birth. Blood clot.”
“Oh, that’s tragic.” Anna sat down hard on the edge of the bed.
“Yes. He was left with a newborn.” And the irony of that hadn’t escaped her.
“I suppose if he was going to run from fatherhood a second time he would have done it then, but he didn’t.
He raised the child alone. Those were the facts, but facts don’t tell you anything really.
They didn’t tell me if he ever thought about his other family.
They didn’t tell me if he was sorry for the way he treated my mother. ”
“And you,” Anna said softly. “He didn’t just abandon your mother. He abandoned you.”
It was typical of Anna to understand the full emotional impact of any situation.
“That’s true. Those facts didn’t tell me how he reacted when his wife died. Didn’t tell if he was a good father, although he obviously stayed, so that was a start and a very definite improvement on his performance with me.”
Claudia thumped her empty glass back on the table. “We’re not ready to give him an A plus yet.”
“I had more questions than I had answers. And then we walked into this inn, I saw that photograph downstairs and the answers were right there.” There was an ache in the center of her chest. “However he felt about us, his first family, he loved his second family. He didn’t walk out on them the way he did us.
This time he didn’t run from the challenge.
He raised his child on his own. He was a good dad. ”
“Maybe he was.” Anna swung her legs off the bed and walked across to her. “And that’s good in one way, but hard in another. It has to hurt.”
“I’m still processing.” She couldn’t make sense of her feelings, or maybe it was simply that she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to feel this much about anything. She preferred to skim along the surface of life, never dipping deeper.
“Wait—” Claudia joined them at the window. “That means Hattie is your half sister. You have a half sister.”
The ache in Erica’s chest grew more intense. “That’s right.”
The three of them absorbed the implications of that.
“Well—” Claudia swallowed. “I mean, she seems nice. Don’t you think so, Anna? Warm and caring? Also, she has great taste in boots. And a good eye for interior design if the inn is anything to go by.”
“Yes.” Anna pressed her hand to her chest. Her eyes were shining. “Erica, you do realize what this means? You have family. Actual family. And Hattie has a daughter, which means you’re an aunt.”
“Stop it. You know that word freaks me out.”
“I know. You refused to let my kids call you Aunt Erica.”
Erica tried not to recoil. “Too heavy. Too much responsibility.”
“Being an aunt freaks me out, too. Mostly because it’s expensive,” Claudia warned. “I told my sister to stop at two, but did she listen? No. Start saving now.”
“But family.” Anna emphasized the word and Erica sighed.
“Only in your world is family the equivalent of an all-weather down duvet ready to protect you from everything. Hattie and I are not family, Anna. We’re strangers.”
“But not for long. You’re going to fix that. When are you planning to tell her? Do you want us to be there when you do it? How can we support you?”
Erica rubbed her hand over her chest. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this stressed. “I’m not planning to tell her.”
There was a shocked silence.
“Wait—you’re not planning to tell her at all?” Claudia enunciated the words carefully. “Not ever?”
“That’s right.” Erica turned back to the window. Her legs were shaky and she felt a little sick.
“But if you’re not going to tell her,” Anna said slowly, “why did you come here?”
It was a reasonable question and one she’d been asking herself constantly.
“Because I only now this minute made that decision. Before arriving here, I hadn’t made up my mind what I was going to do.
I was just doing the research. I read about her in the report.
I read that she was widowed, and on her own with a child, and I thought about how she might be struggling, the way my mother struggled.
And I thought I’d come here and check things out, see if maybe I could—” She stopped.
Could what, exactly? Saying it aloud made her realize how ridiculous the whole situation was.
“I thought maybe she needed help, but honestly it was a crazy idea. What sort of help would I be? What exactly would I say? Hi, you don’t know me—you probably don’t even know of my existence—but I wanted to check you’re okay.
Hattie is clearly okay. She has a whole community looking out for her, including the Christmas tree guy, and even if she wasn’t okay, what am I going to do about it?
I don’t know anything about kids. I don’t know anything about running an inn, particularly a country inn.
I’m a city person. And honestly, she’d probably be less okay if she found out about me.
It’s probably best if I just slink back into the shadows and stay as my father’s dirty little secret. ”
Claudia frowned. “You don’t think she knows?”
“She doesn’t know. Why would she know? It was forty years ago.
My father had a different life then. He clearly reinvented himself, very successfully, it seems.” The more she thought about it, the more she could see she’d made a big mistake.
Some things were best left alone, and this was one of them.
“I shouldn’t have come here. I think you’re right about leaving, but I don’t have the energy to go anywhere right now.
We’ll stay one night, then check out tomorrow and go to Boston as you suggested.
We’ll think of an excuse and let Hattie keep the money.
I’ll pay for the next place, and I’m really sorry I’ve ruined our vacation.
” And she felt terrible about that because she knew how important this week was to them all.
“You haven’t ruined anything,” Anna said. “And if you want to leave, then of course we’ll do that.”
She felt a rush of love for her friends. “Thank you. You probably think I made a bad decision coming here.”
“No.” Anna shook her head. “I think coming here was absolutely the right thing to do. Also, it’s so typical of you to want to check on Hattie even though you don’t know her and the whole thing is painful. It’s caring.”
Erica had a feeling that leaving without telling Hattie who she was would be more caring.
“What I keep wondering,” Claudia said, “is why your mother kept that card? If she didn’t intend to share it with you, which she obviously didn’t, why keep it?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question. I don’t know the answer.”
Anna was watching her. “At least if we stay tonight that will give you some time to reflect and be sure of your decision.”
“I’m already sure.” The more she thought about it, the more confident she was that she was making the right decision. “To Hattie, I don’t exist. And it’s better if it stays that way.”
“She doesn’t remember her mother, and she lost her father years ago, then her husband.” Anna’s voice was soft. “She might be pleased to discover she has family.”
“I don’t think so, but that’s because you and I are different. You see family as this wonderful positive force.” Erica paced to the fireplace and stared at the flames. “Sometimes it isn’t that simple.”
“You are her family.” Claudia was logical. “Whether you tell her or not doesn’t change that.”
“But it changes the actions. Enough.” Erica turned to look at them. “I’m not telling her. That’s my decision.”
“Whatever you want.”
She was grateful that they hadn’t argued with her. “And now I need stress relief. There’s no gym, and it’s too early for a glass of wine. Any suggestions?”
“There are acres of trails around the place.” Claudia glanced out the window. “We have at least an hour before it gets dark. Shall we go for a walk?”
“We could walk to that bookstore. Books are always a stress reliever,” Anna said and Erica nodded.
Anything to get out of here and clear her head.
She didn’t like this version of herself.
This unsure, shaken, indecisive version.
She needed a dose of normal, and visiting a bookstore with her friends sounded suitably normal.
It was a tradition when they met up for their book club.
They always found the nearest independent bookstore and spent a few happy hours browsing and buying.
“The bookstore sounds like a good distraction. Let’s do it.
” She looked at the room properly for the first time.
Saw the size of the bed, the fur throws, the velvet sofa, the stack of carefully chosen books on the nightstand and the small Christmas tree sparkling in the corner of the room.
It was stylish and comfortable and she felt a momentary twinge of regret that she was going to be checking out the next day.
The feeling surprised her. She’d stayed in more hotel rooms than most, and generally she didn’t ever feel an inclination to curl up and move in forever.
But that was the way this room made her feel.
It was welcoming. They could have relaxed here. They could have had a good time.
Who had chosen the decor? Was that Hattie—she wasn’t ready to think of her as my sister—or her husband?
What sort of person was Hattie? It gave her a jolt to think that there was someone in the world that she was related to but knew nothing about.
All she knew about her was that she’d moved to the US with her husband, and that they had a daughter.
Facts. She knew facts, but facts weren’t what made a person.
She didn’t know what made her laugh. She didn’t know if she was a city person or a country person—presumably country, or she wouldn’t be living here?
She didn’t know if she loved chocolate and could mix a good cocktail.
She didn’t know what Hattie wanted out of life.
And she never would, she reminded herself, because it wasn’t her business. Hattie’s life, however that looked, would continue without her intervention or interference.
All she knew about Hattie was that she’d loved her father, that they’d been close, and that was something she and Erica definitely didn’t have in common.