My Love at Last (16 page)

Chapter 22

“H
ey,” Connor called as he walked into the hotel room.

Olivia was curled on the couch in the sitting room, working on her laptop. “Hey, yourself. Take care of everything with your vendors?”

“Yeah,” he said, and joined her on the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing much. Going over some notes.”

“How about we take a walk and maybe find someplace to have a late lunch, then come back and get ready to head over?”

Olivia hopped up from the couch as if she’d been hit with a zap gun. “I thought you’d never ask. I’m starved and I’m getting antsy sitting here.”

* * *

They found a great bistro about three blocks away from the hotel on Amsterdam Avenue. Seated at the window, they ordered lunch and Connor entertained Olivia with his spot-on observations of the people who walked by. Before Olivia realized it, two hours had passed and she hadn’t stressed once about the upcoming meeting. Connor knew exactly what he was doing.

She hooked her arm through his as they walked back to the hotel. “Will you always know what I need?” she softly asked.

He looked down into her questioning eyes. “That’s the plan.”

* * *

“No matter what happens… we’ll deal with it,” Connor said. He squeezed her hand.

Olivia nodded, tugged in a breath and rang the bell. Moments later Ann came to the door.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. She stepped aside to let them in. “We’re in the front room.” She shut the door and let them into the formal front room.

Constance was seated next to her husband. But Olivia’s gaze landed and stayed on the middle-aged woman who was seated near the window with a handsome man at her side. Olivia’s heart hammered in her chest. She saw herself reflected in the woman’s features the same way she did in the face of Ellen Dayton, right down to the tiny cleft in her chin.

Ann made the introductions. “Olivia Gray, Mr. Lawson, this is my niece’s husband, Phillip.” She then turned to the woman by the window. “And this is Constance’s daughter, Leslie, and her husband, Martin.”

Olivia couldn’t breathe.

“Please sit,” Ann said to Olivia and Connor.

“We had a very difficult night,” Constance began. “Digging into the past, turning up secrets, lies and pain, is never easy. But it’s time for the secrets to be told.” She looked at her daughter.

Olivia caught a glimpse of Leslie covering her mouth as if to stifle a cry. Leslie’s husband pressed his hand on her shoulder.

“When I was away at college… Spelman… ” She glanced at her husband, who gave her a nod of encouragement. “I thought I was in love and… I had a baby.” She swallowed. “I hid it from my family, stayed away for the holidays and made excuses why I couldn’t come home for visits.” She lowered her head. “I knew… I believed that my family would never accept me or my child. It wasn’t what the Daytons did.” She straightened. “I had the baby.” She looked directly at Olivia. “Giving you away… was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Every day of my life I have regretted it, and at the same time lived in fear that… this day would come.”

“The only person who knew was me,” Ann confessed. “I made all the arrangements, and with the Dayton name and money, I was able to keep it all hush-hush.”

“The only thing I could give you was the name Gray,” Leslie said in a weak voice. She blinked back tears, to no avail. “Your father’s name was Martin Fields. He didn’t want to deal with me or a child. I found out that he was killed in a car accident the year after you were born.”

Olivia sat transfixed. A maelstrom of emotions whipped through her — anger, elation, confusion and hurt. She’d been given away, tossed aside with no more than a last name, because her birth would have tarnished the Dayton-Gray name? And she’d had a biological father who didn’t want her, either. So simple, and at the same time it was so incredibly horrid.

“Do you have any idea what your decision has done to me?” Olivia asked, her voice breaking with each word. “The loneliness, moving from one home to another, never being sure if anyone would ever care about me? The questions that constantly ran through my head. Why? What was wrong with me? Why was I not worthy to be loved?”

“I can never make up for what I did. I was scared. I was young.” Leslie shook her head sadly. “I am so very sorry, Olivia. From the depths of my soul, I’m sorry.”

“It was more my fault than Leslie’s,” Constance said. “I put all those false ideals in her head because of what I’d been through, how I’d been treated in my own family. I never wanted that for Leslie. I wanted her to be educated, accepted, marry well.” She lowered her head in shame.

The room sank into silence as the confessions and recriminations took center stage.

Olivia drew in a breath and slowly stood. She looked at this family that she’d spent her whole life longing for, and realized how much of her life she’d wasted. She had the answers that she needed, and the funny thing was it no longer mattered. She turned to Connor, a shadow of a sad smile on her lips. “Let’s go.”

Connor took her hand.

“Olivia,” Leslie called out.

Olivia stopped and looked at the woman who had given her birth, and saw her reflection in another twenty years.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She walked out with Connor at her side.

Chapter 23

O
livia was quiet on the drive back to Sag Harbor. Connor allowed her the mental and emotional space that she needed. She would talk when she was ready, and he’d be there to listen. He’d thought about taking her to her house but decided that she needed to be taken care of today. He made the turn that led to his house.

“Why don’t you relax, turn on some music, and I’ll fix us a drink. I think we could use it.” He smiled warmly at her.

Olivia mindlessly followed Connor’s instructions, then plopped down on the couch, pressed her fist against her lips and stared off into space.

Connor brought her a short glass of bourbon, which she drank without a word. He took a seat opposite her.

“I’m going to be all right, you know.”

“I know.”

She sighed. “I don’t know what I was hoping for, some storybook revelation and ending.” She shook her head.

“Not much in life is what we expect.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“What do you want to do… about what you know?”

She looked at him. “I want to move on with my life. The questions have finally been answered. I thought I would feel some kind of connection once I knew who my mother was. But I don’t.”

“What do you feel?”

“Hmm, hard to put into words… but satisfied. Satisfied that, despite the decisions that were made about my life, I made a life for myself. A good one, a life that I’m proud of. Not having me in their lives all these years was their loss. Growing up in that rarified air would have made me someone other than who I am.” She smiled, a genuine smile. “And I like me.”

Connor’s dark eyes sparkled. “I kinda like you, too.”

“And you know what else?”

“What?”

“I’m starved. What does a girl have to do to get a meal around here?”

Connor rose from his seat. The corner of his mouth lifted. “I can think of all kinds of things.”

Olivia reached up and grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him toward her. He braced his hands on either side of her head.

“Kiss me,” she said.

“With pleasure.”

* * *

“I need to go to my place,” Olivia said the following morning. “I have to change clothes and then I want to go into town and pick up a few things. I’m fixing dinner tonight,” she said, and winked.

“Sounds good to me.” Connor zipped his jeans.

“I have a list of people who I would like to interview. Based on the census there are at least a dozen families here whose history goes back several generations. When I get back to my place I’ll make some calls to set up times.”

“I’ll drop you off on my way. I have a full day myself.”

* * *

When Olivia crossed her threshold she was suddenly overcome with the events of the previous day. She’d put on a good face for Connor because she didn’t want him to worry about her. But her insides were raw. Yes, she believed the things she’d said and the position that she’d taken, but it didn’t stop her from feeling the unimaginable hurt. She was, if nothing else, a scientist. She was logical, methodical, and she knew that this was all part of the process. All she could do was move through it. That would take time, but she knew she would be okay.

She put her things down and went into the kitchen just as her cell phone rang. She looked at the name on the illuminated face and groaned. But after what she’d been through there was nothing that Victor could do or say to make it worse.

“Hello, Victor.”

“Olivia.” He cleared his throat. “I want to apologize for my very unprofessional behavior during the meeting. It was out of place and uncalled for.”

Olivia nearly fell into the chair. Her mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I’ve said as much to the staff as well, but I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Any minute she was expecting someone to jump out from behind a door and say that she was being punked.

“And as far as the appointment to the director’s position, it’s yours if you still want it. No strings attached.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you’ll accept my apology and that you will at least think about the position.”

“What brought all of this on, Victor?”

Empty space hung between them for a moment. “I had a crisis of conscience. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Thank you for calling. Thank you for the apology, and I’ll think about the job.”

“That’s all I ask.” He paused. “How is the work coming?”

She quickly brought him up to date on the progress and her plans.

“Keep me in the loop. My new position is on hold. I told them I wanted to stay on at The Institute until my job was filled.”

“No pressure,” she said with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Think about it and get back to me. Give it some thought. Take care, Olivia.”

“Thanks. You, too.” Slowly she put the phone down, still stunned by the conversation. An “attack of conscience.” She would have never thought that Victor had a conscience. She shook her head in bemusement. Whatever. She wasn’t going to let his newfound soul dominate her thoughts. She still had work to do.

* * *

“You’ll never guess what happened today,” Olivia said as she lay in bed that night with Connor.

“Probably not, but I can guess that you’re going to tell me.”

She nudged him in the side. “Victor called me.”

Connor shifted his reaction to neutral. “Yeah, what did he want this time?”

“He called to apologize. Can you believe that? And he offered the job to me.”

“Really? What brought all that on?”

“I have no idea. He said he had an ‘attack of conscience.’”

Connor bit back a smile, thankful for the dark. “Stranger things have happened.”

“I suppose. Do you think I should try to… have a relationship with my mother?” she asked, totally switching gears.

“I think that you need some time to digest everything. I think that you both deserve to know each other, if it’s what you both want. That’s your family, with all the bruises and scars. Like so many other families, yours has dirty laundry. But it’s all out in the open now. You don’t have to make a decision one way or the other. When the time is right, you’ll know what to do.”

Olivia curled closer to him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For being there for me.”

“I’m here because I love you.”

She tilted her face toward his. “I know.”

* * *

The work on the homestead was coming into the final stretch. All the foundation work had been done and the interiors were nearly complete. In another week everything would be finished, as long as they stayed on schedule. When one walked onto the property it was no longer a wasteland of dilapidated buildings and rutted land. The buildings that had been completed inside and out were being outfitted with furnishings. The dirt roads were smoothed; the shrubbery, grass and trees were pruned. Flowers bloomed. You could almost see and hear the original inhabitants murmuring their approval. There was a rocker that sat on the porch of one of the houses, and every now and again it would rock all by itself. Rather than alarming her, it always made Olivia smile.

Olivia worked tirelessly documenting every step and photographing the process of the restoration. She’d interviewed five families and had acquired an enormous amount of information that included oral testimonies, family journals, letters and photographs that would all become part of the archival collection. As she watched the progress she was continually moved by the realization that she had roots here. Part of her history was on this land where her ancestors had once walked, and it filled her with a sense of pride that she’d never before experienced.

She’d eventually decided not to take the director’s job. Being in the field, doing the real research, was who she was. She’d wither away behind a desk. She knew that now. Victor was disappointed, but he said that he understood and wished her well, and would make sure that her contract was renewed if that was what she wanted.

It had been three months since she’d met her family. It didn’t sting quite as much and she was sure that eventually she would return the calls that Leslie made to her. But for now, she wasn’t ready.

* * *

Finally the day came and all the hard work paid off. Connor, Jake and his crew, along with Olivia, took a tour of the finished job. It was beyond amazing. It was akin to taking a walk back in time. There was no detail that was left undone.

“You should be so proud of this work,” Olivia said, slipping her arm around Connor’s waist.

“You’re a big part of this. I hope you know and accept that.”

“I do.”

Connor turned to her. He took her hand and lowered himself down on one knee. All the men grew quiet. Olivia’s heart raced. Her eyes widened.

“That’s what I hope you’ll say when I ask you… Do you want to share my life with me, be my friend and confidante, my lover—” which drew snickers from the guys “—my wife?” He reached in his pocket and held a sparkling diamond in the palm of his hand.

Olivia’s eyes were so filled with tears and her throat was so tight with emotion that she could barely get the two words out. “I do.”

A roar went up from the crew and, mysteriously, bottles of champagne began to appear. Connor slid the ring onto her finger, swept her into his arms and kissed her long and deep, to the cheers of the men.