CHAPTER 25
Claire
“Hello, Pumpkin.”
Claire stood there, speechless.
Her father gave her a soft smile, looking her up and down. “You’re all grown up.”
He had the same air, that of a confident man who knew what he was worth and what he looked like. She hadn’t seen him since she was five. To her surprise, he looked good for his age.
And an alcoholic. An unfeeling, irresponsible alcoholic.
She’d pictured him stooped, wrinkled, and with the ruddy face of a man whose liver was destroyed by drink, yet there he stood, with that straight posture he had and insisted that she, too, learn to perfect.
If anything, the years made him look more distinguished, and he was still as handsome as ever, the gray at his temples taking nothing away from his striking good looks.
Somehow, she got her bearings, and anger flashed, hot, in her gut. “Funny how that happened, huh?”
He had the grace to look down at his shoes. Polished, as always, those shoes. Claire remembered him looking immaculate, and he still did.
“Why are you here?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “We did just fine without you, and we’re still capable of going it all alone, so you can take your—”
“Claire.” Her mother’s voice was a warning.
“—uncaring, egotistical self and—”
“Claire!” Mom yelled. She actually yelled.
Claire closed her mouth and realized she was shaking. She forced herself to stand still and raised her chin, horrified to feel her eyes begin to sting. She blinked hard. No. She had no tears left for this man.
“Enough.” Her mother’s eyes flashed with a fury Claire had never seen. “I asked him to come.”
Claire’s eyes widened as she turned to regard Mom with all the incredulity she felt.
Nora nodded. “I called him weeks ago. We’ve been”—a little smile curved her lips— “communicating.”
“Communicating.”
“Yes.”
She gave her mother a long, hard stare. “Why?”
“Why?” Nora’s gaze swung to her former husband, and Claire couldn’t believe the adoration in her mother’s eyes as hers met his.
Oh no, she couldn’t stomach this. Claire turned on her heel and started toward the door.
“Claire.” Her mother’s voice was strained. “I think you should stay.”
“And I disagree.” She glared at her father, whose tall frame blocked the doorway. “I can’t be in the same room with him.”
Her nostrils flared as a light, soapy citrus scent assaulted her senses. God. He still used Acqua di Parma. She remembered playing with the clear black-capped bottle in her parents’ bathroom, fingering the crest on the label, convinced that her daddy was royalty.
After he’d left, the bottle still sat on his vanity top, and she’d go sniff it and cry on the floor.
Daddy, come back. I’ll be good, I promise.
She fixed him with what she hoped was a cold stare. “Excuse me.”
He didn’t move, and she thought she saw hurt briefly flicker in his green eyes.
“You know what, I’ll go pick up some lunch. It’s good to see you, Claire. You’re beautiful.”
Claire snorted. Of course, he’d say that. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see she looked just like him. What had possessed her mother to bring him here, she couldn’t fathom.
She stepped into the hallway and watched his retreating back, a million emotions swirling in her chest. The moment he turned the corner and the door clicked closed behind her, Claire rounded on her mother. “What the hell, Mom?”
Her mother ignored the language for which she usually chastised her. “Have a seat.”
Claire sat, her stomach churning at the stern look on her mother’s face.
“I told you weeks ago that I was thinking of contacting him.”
“I didn’t expect you to actually go through with it!”
“I am about to tell you something important. And I expect you to listen and not interrupt.”
She used to do this when she lectured Claire as a child.
“I mean it, Claire. Not one peep.”
She waited until Claire nodded curtly, then took a deep breath.
“We met young. I was naive, inexperienced, and insecure. He took one look at me and decided I was it for him. I still don’t understand what he saw in me.
But he pursued me until he got what he wanted.
At least, he thought he did. His appetite …
Let’s just say he had an adventurous spirit.
But I couldn’t get over the shame and my own body issues and inhibitions.
It got to the point where we were fighting—about sex, of all things.
“I was so very stupid. I had a buffet at my fingertips and refused to even taste it.
When I got pregnant with you, I used it as an excuse.
He was patient, kind, and understanding.
His long hours added to the strain on the marriage.
The missed birthdays and holidays, beautiful women throwing themselves at him even at functions where I was present.
He said he only wanted me. And I made myself unavailable.
“As I said, stupid. I was ashamed of my body and of my own urges. After a while, I guess he got tired and just gave up.”
“And he left you.”
“I told you not to interrupt,” she snapped.
Whoa. This was uncharacteristic. She’d never seen that side of her mother.
“I thought he’d calmed down. Things were good, I thought. Until he began staying late at work. One day, I couldn’t stand the suspicious thoughts in my head and went to his office around midnight. I was convinced he was having an affair. I found him … I found him with … with …”
With that homewrecker.
“… videos.”
With what?
“Filthy movies,” Nora said, her lips flattening into a line.
Porn.
Claire’s mouth fell open. She stared at her mother, unable to believe what she was hearing. This wasn’t her family. This version was something her brain rejected with everything she had.
“I was crushed. He swore up and down that it didn’t mean anything, that he had resorted to those …
things so he wouldn’t have to bother me anymore with his needs.
I said some ugly, hurtful things, terrible things I wish I could take back.
I couldn’t get over it. I thought he’d somehow tainted …
I don’t know what I thought. I asked for a divorce. ”
She had? Oh my God.
“You? It was you?”
Her mother nodded, misery all over her face. “It was the only time I ever saw him cry.” Mom looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “You look like you want to ask a question.”
She did. She didn’t. She wanted to run out of this room and keep going. “So all those things you said to me about not marrying an attorney—”
“That was sincere. Attorneys work long hours and have busy, highly stressful careers. I think part of our problems stemmed from him never being there for me. I wanted you to have someone who had time for you and would dote on you. I thought you deserved nothing less.”
“What I deserved was the truth.”
“I know. I’m sorry. At first, you were too young to understand these things, and then the years slipped by, and I was too scared to admit I’d ruined your life.”
“You didn’t ruin my life, Mom.”
“I took your father away from you!”
“I think I turned out OK.”
“You did. But I think it had to do more with your innate goodness than anything I did.”
“That’s not true. Give yourself some credit.” Claire made her way to the window, looking out at the swaying palm fronds. The sight of them always seemed to calm her. “Is he sober?”
“He stopped drinking right after the divorce.”
Claire’s jaw dropped again—one shocker after another.
“It’s true. The woman he married said his drinking was a deal-breaker, so he went to rehab. Never touched another drop.”
That explained why he looked so good. Claire braced herself on the windowsill, mind reeling as she tried to absorb all the information.
Silence descended, heavy, for a little while. When Mom next spoke, her voice was soft.
“He never forgot about you, Claire. He always tried to stay in touch. I couldn’t take even hearing him on the phone, so I asked him to stop.” When she spoke again, her voice trembled. “He has been setting aside money for you in a trust all these—”
“I don’t want his money.”
“You may not want it, but it’s yours. I refused any sort of financial support, so he set it aside with an investment banker. Every month. It’s added up to quite a sum. I never touched it, though he said I could.”
“He can keep all of it. I don’t need it.”
For a few moments, all that was heard was the sound of workers rolling lunch carts in the hallway.
“I understand. This is a lot to throw at you.”
One corner of Claire’s mouth turned down. “You think?”
Her mother’s wringing hands made Claire realize she was stressing her, and suddenly, she felt ashamed for her hostility. Mom must have suffered even more than Claire knew.
She turned to face her. “I’m sorry I flew off the handle like that. This was … a surprise.”
Yay, me, I get the prize for understatement of the decade.
“I should have told you, but I just couldn’t figure out how to approach it, and this was exactly how I feared you would react.
I didn’t know that he would go ahead and jump on a plane when I asked him to.
I have to say, that threw me for a loop, even with what he wrote in all the emails we’ve exchanged. ”
They’d been exchanging emails?
“How long has this been going on?”
Her mother smiled. “A while.”
Claire raised her brows.
“He changed his Facebook status to single last year. I’ve been working up the courage to message him. After I talked to you, I did.”
And the surprises keep on coming, ladies and gentlemen.
“What happened to what’s-her-name?” She still couldn’t say the name of the girl who had waited in the wings to steal her father.
“She left him for a younger man. An Italian. I hear he’s wealthy too.”
“Karma,” Claire muttered.
“Funny you should say that. I’ve been thinking that was why I got all this.” She motioned toward herself and the chest port below her collarbone.
Claire opened her mouth, but Mom stopped her.
“I know what you will say, so don’t bother. I hurt him very badly, Claire. More than you can imagine.” Her voice faltered. “And you got caught in the middle and got hurt badly too. I am so sorry, honey.”