Epilogue
Elena
I take a third nervous sip of my water and put it down again. It’s a rare sunny day in Blackport, and the restaurant is bright and bustling at lunchtime. I’m alone at a table waiting for someone who I’ve been hoping to meet for a long, long time.
There was one more thing that Cullan was doing while I stayed with Vivienne and Tyrant. He found my mother. The church my aunts attended is associated with a nearby hospital, and he searched the records until he found what he was looking for.
Me.
Born April 4 to a Beatrice Spencer, father unknown.
I know my fiancé, and he wouldn’t have stopped with just a name.
He would have done a deep dive into her life to see what kind of person she is.
If she could hurt me. If she could be dangerous for me.
He likely looked into her criminal records and had her followed, as he’s confessed he once did with me before he approached me to look after his daughter.
He will never let anyone or anything dangerous or destructive near someone he loves.
In the weeks since I found out the truth about what he does for a living, I’ve seen how carefully he prepares for infiltration jobs, and I’m impressed by his thoroughness and care.
Cullan will have deemed Beatrice safe for me to meet, but that doesn’t mean she can’t hurt me.
She might feel indifferent about her long-lost daughter getting in contact.
She might resent being reminded of a past “mistake.” Or perhaps she’ll be delighted to see me again.
I’m hopeful, but I’m also prepared to be crushed, and if I am, I have Cullan’s warm, strong arms to hold me while I cry.
I curve my hand around my belly, and whisper to the bump, “It doesn’t matter what happens today, I have you. I have your daddy, and I have your sister Rosie. That makes me bulletproof, doesn’t it, baby?”
This is scary, but I have to try and have a relationship with my mother. There will always be a part of me that aches if I don’t.
Meanwhile, Cullan has been rebuilding things with Leon.
It’s been difficult for both of them, I hear, but things are getting better between them.
Leon’s less angry with his father, and he’s started seeing another woman.
Cullan tells me that Leon is treating her better than he treated me, and I’m glad to hear it.
A figure enters the restaurant, and I look up as I’ve already done half a dozen times in the last ten minutes. This time, I’m not disappointed. This time, I feel electrified, and I know .
The woman is in her mid-thirties, and she wears a baby blue dress and heels. Her eyes are just like mine, wide and bright blue. Her hair is the same lustrous shade of black as my own. I see myself in the tilt of her lips and the shape of her face.
She looks around the restaurant, a little of the apprehension I’ve been feeling showing in her eyes. Then she sees me, and happiness spreads over her face. She hurries over, and I stand to greet her.
I say, “You’re Beatrice Spencer.”
At the same time, she says, “I would have known you anywhere, my little girl,” and throws her arms around me.
I told myself not to expect more than a polite handshake, and so the warmth of her words and embrace overwhelm me. A sob rises up my throat, and I burst into tears. Beatrice is crying as well. I’m vaguely aware that people around us are giving the two crying women strange looks, but I don’t care.
We finally disentangle ourselves from each other, dab at our eyes with our napkins, and sit down. How wonderful it is to look into my mother’s face.
“You look so grown up,” she tells me.
“And you look so young.” I was picturing a much older woman, but Beatrice looks the same age as many first-time mothers I’ve seen.
She gives me a rueful smile. “I was just fifteen when I had you. Practically a baby myself. Who was it that raised you?”
“Two sisters, Astrid and Frieda.”
“Do you still see them?”
I smile steadily back at Beatrice. “Not for a little while. They went on vacation.” The lie passes easily over my lips with neither a blush nor a wobble in my voice. I feel no remorse. At night, I sleep soundly without torment over the way they died or what Cullan did with their bodies.
“I hope they’re good women who treated you kindly?” Beatrice asks, apprehension in her voice.
I’ve debated what to tell people who ask about Astrid and Frieda.
“They gave me all the love that’s in their heart.”
Beatrice doesn’t need to know that all the love in their hearts amounted to gristle and poison from those loveless bitches.
She smiles in relief. “I’m so glad. Perhaps I can meet them one day.”
Cullan never told me what he did with the bodies, but I’m sure they’re rotting somewhere they’ll never be found.
“Can I ask what being pregnant with me was like? You see, I’m having a baby.” I lean back so she can see my bump.
Beatrice gasps in delight. “I’m going to be a grandma?
I’m going to be a grandma!” She gives me her congratulations and then gathers her thoughts.
“It’s wonderful to be asked such a question.
I’m never given the opportunity to talk about you.
You were a very easy baby to carry, and my morning sickness didn’t last long.
I remember some sleepless nights, and being so hungry all the time. ”
I smile as I recognize some of that in myself.
We order our lunch, and our conversation flows easily as we discuss babies and children. Beatrice has two sons who are seven and ten, and she’s married to a man who runs a successful plumbing business.
“I would love for you to meet my family,” she tells me, and then sadness settles over her. “But I suppose you’re wondering why I gave you up.”
“I have been wondering, but it felt rude to ask. You were fifteen years old, and you must have been so scared. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I didn’t want to give you up, but Father Connell impressed on me that it was the only good and proper thing for me to do, so that I didn’t…” She presses her lips together in a regretful line. “So that I didn’t taint you with my sin, as he put it. I took his words to heart.”
Looking at Beatrice, I can picture her as a tearful, frightened teenager, suffering under the weight of her so-called sin.
I feel a little spark of hate hearing Father Connell’s name, but I don’t let it show on my face.
“I have also taken his words to heart and spent many hours on my knees in repentance for my thoughts and deeds, no matter how hard I tried to be good. Sometimes I even felt like the stained glass in that church was judging me. ”
Her eyes widen. “I felt the same way. Like they’re all pointing accusing fingers at me.”
“Yes, exactly that.” I think my mother and I have a lot in common, and I can’t wait to find out more.
“I went to see Father Connell just before your tenth birthday and asked if I could meet you. He said that I couldn’t, that it was confidential where you were, and that you were happier without me.
I was twenty-five by then, and I thought I had my life together, but he made me feel just like he did when I was fifteen. Like I wasn’t good enough.”
That my mother was looking for me when I was hoping for her makes a well of emotion open up in my chest. I seize her hand and hold it tightly. “You were always good enough. Always.”
As we finish our lunch, I ask Beatrice, “Do you think that if we’d met by chance, we would have known that we’re mother and daughter?”
She studies my face. “You look so much like me. I think I would have felt that you were familiar, and worried over it and worried over it, and then done the math in my head.”
I smile at her. “Worrying over things, I have the same habit. I think I would have realized the same thing as well.”
“Your fiancée is the kindest man in the world to find me for you.”
We told Beatrice that my aunts knew her name and he looked her up. “He is. Would you like to meet him? He’s waiting in the car outside. ”
“I would love that.”
“He’s older than me,” I say, watching her carefully.
I don’t care about our age difference, but I’d rather not be around people who practice judgment over love.
Cullan doesn’t need to be around that either.
I doubt he’d get his feelings hurt, but I would hurt for him, and there’s been enough of that in my life. “Twenty years older than me.”
She shrugs, still smiling. “If he loves you, that’s all that matters. Let’s meet this lovely man of yours.”
I send Cullan a text, and he enters the restaurant a moment later. I can’t help but admire this lovely man of mine, looking so tall and handsome and dressed in a black shirt.
I needn’t have worried Beatrice would judge me for falling for a man who’s twenty years older than me. She loves Cullan, and she’s so happy for me that she even gives me another hug.
Cullan looks at me closely, reading the happiness and hope in my expression.
We discussed what I wanted if the meeting with my mother went well, and he agreed it was a wonderful idea.
He turns to Beatrice and takes her hands in his.
“Elena and I are getting married in a few weeks. We would love for you to come to the wedding.”
“I would love that so much. My daughter is getting married and having a baby, and I get to be there. All these years, I’ve counted the milestones I’ve missed out on and imagining what you were doing.”
“I feel the same way. But the wedding won’t be in church. I hope that’s okay. ”
Beatrice nods in understanding. “I haven’t been to Mass or confession for years. I didn’t lose my belief, but I lost faith in the people who took you away from me. Whatever you and Cullan choose, I know it’s going to be wonderful. Thank you for including me.”
With more tears and hugs, we say goodbye, but promise to meet up for coffee in a few days.
All the way home, I feel like I’m floating on air.