THE GREAT BETRAYAL (12 page)

Leslie reached for the photographs she’d left in her desk. She stared at her daughter. She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t, so silence reigned again.

“We plan to give her your phone number, and address too, in case she wants to write to you. I hope that’s okay. It is her right to find you if she wants to.”

Finally Leslie found her voice. “Yes, yes, of course, it’s perfectly all right. You can even give her my e-mail address.” After relaying it to her, she managed a slight laugh. “I told my husband everything last night, so it’s all out in the open now.”

“Your husband never knew? Your other child?”

“No. I’ve never spoken of it. Not until last night.”

“Good God, child…”

In that moment Leslie could only imagine the thoughts going through Ingrid’s mind. She could only imagine. Part of her wanted badly to end the call now. Talking to Ingrid was proving to be a crushing experience. It was like having to stare into a fault-revealing mirror. The reflection hurt. It hurt a lot.

But…Jeff was also there in that mirror. Through his mother, she could see him as she hadn’t in over fifteen years.

“I’ve got to run now,” Ingrid said finally.

Oh, thank God
, thought Leslie as relief showered over her. She could never have ended the call herself.

“
You have a good Thanksgiving, you hear?”

“
Thanks, Ingrid. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. All of you. Thank you again for…well, for everything. Everything. I promise to be in touch whenever I hear from Grace.” She paused. “Gosh, I’m so nervous about it…I have no idea what I’ll say to her.”

“
Well,” Ingrid began, “just tell her the truth. Whatever the truth is, that’s the best place to start. You’ll never go wrong with that.” Again, she cleared her throat. “Oh, and Leslie?”

“
Yes?”

“
It’s nice to hear your voice again after all these years. You were such a lovely young lady…and Jeffrey loved you a lot. I hope you haven’t forgotten him.”

“
Oh, Ingrid.” Leslie lost the struggle then. The tears came as she replied, “How could I forget him? That’s why I just couldn’t stay!” she sobbed. “How could I have our baby without
him? I didn’t know who I was anymore…so who was she? Who was this precious little—”

“
Oh, honey, you would’ve been all right after a while. We were here, and you could’ve stayed as long as you liked. You never would’ve been alone. Besides…I lost my son. My
son.
If I could withstand it, surely you could, too.”

Leslie’s line beeped again.

“
Anyhow…I’ll let you go so you can get back to your work. Take care of yourself, okay? Stay well.”

And then she was gone.

Chapter 23

Early 2001

In the blink of an eye, the fun and festive holidays were over and a new year had arrived. New Year’s resolutions were all the rage, and gift returns were even more popular.

It was an extremely tense time for Leslie, though, as she was now on alert.

She was waiting for Grace.

When would she call?
Would
she call, or would she write? Perhaps she’d simply show up one day, out of the blue?

With ardent anticipation that grew with each passing day of the new year, Leslie waited.

The weeks rolled by.

Luke grew more distant, spending less and less time at home. And whenever he was at there, he holed up in his office. Even Kate soon discovered that it was the official place to spend time with her dad.

To her dismay, it became extremely clear that he was avoiding Leslie like the plague.

By March, all the nervous anxiety Leslie felt turned to disappointment. She realized that for the most part, she’d actually been looking forward to getting in touch with Grace. The fact that Grace had not yet contacted her felt extremely…well…anticlimactic.

Had they decided not to tell her after all? Or perhaps they had told her, but Grace had decided she didn’t care to meet her birth mother…?

Leslie didn’t know whom she would ever admit it to, but the thought of that…well, it hit her where it hurt.

She spoke to Dawn about it the next day at lunch.

“
Maybe you should call the grandmother, find out if they changed their minds about telling her.”

“You think so? Would that seem too pushy? I mean, what if they did change their minds? It wouldn’t be right of me to interfere. Would it?”

“Well, she
is
your daughter, Leslie,” Dawn said as she buttered a roll. “I think that’s enough of a right.”

Leslie adamantly shook her head. “No. I could never do that to them. I won’t usurp their rights in her life. They’ve earned them. As much as I’d like to meet her, have some interaction with her, find out who she is…her likes and dislikes…” Looking down, she hung her head. “No. I have no right. I gave it up…a long time ago.”

Reaching across the table, Dawn lifted her friend’s chin. She looked her in the eye. “Call them, Leslie.” Leslie looked away, but Dawn persisted. “At least try to find out what she was told. You said the old lady was sick, right? What if she passed away and her parents decided not to bother telling her about you? You have to find out.”

Memphis, Tennessee

“
Mindy!” Beth Cunningham shouted over the hard-rock music her thirteen-year-old son, Jude, was blasting from his bedroom. “Forget the television and get in there and clean that room this instant, young lady! I’ve never seen such a—” Beth was interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. It rang only once, and then stopped. She stepped back into the kitchen where she’d just started dinner.

Before she could remove the receiver from the wall, she heard Jude yell, “Mom! It’s somebody for Grandma! Pick up!”

How in the hell did he always manage to answer so fast?

“Hello?” Beth held the phone between her ear and shoulder and began chopping vegetables.

“Hello—is that you, Beth?”

“Yes, this is Beth Cunningham. Who’s this?”

“Hi, Beth. It’s Leslie.”

Beth nearly dropped the knife.

Leslie
.

“How’ve you been?” asked Leslie, as if they hadn’t spoken in only a few months, rather than in nearly sixteen years.

“Leslie—why are you calling? Grace wants nothing to do with you; she made that
very
clear. So just back off. Don’t stir up any trouble after all these years.
Don’t you dare
.”

Leslie said nothing.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you.” A pause. “So she does know then? Ingrid said January.”

Beth sighed. “Yes, she knows…Oh, what an awful day that was. If only you could’ve seen the look on her face…seen the hurt in her eyes.” Beth began to cry. Why was Leslie calling? After all these years, why now?

“Oh, Beth. I’m so sorry. Really I am. I don’t guess it makes any difference now, but I never meant to hurt anybody, least of all Grace. I thought she’d be better off without me. I was in no shape to look after her…I just couldn’t.”

“That’s right—and you still can’t. Stay away from her, Leslie. There’s no need to try to right the wrong now. It’s much,
much
too late for that. She’ll be sixteen soon. She’s happy. She’s doing great in school.” Beth sniffled. “She gets on well with her brother and sister. She has a mother and father who love her very much. She doesn’t need you now. Please…just leave her alone.”

“Don’t worry, Beth, I have no intention of disrupting your family. I guess…I do owe you at least that.” She hesitated. “Is Ingrid all right? I noticed your son called for you when I asked for her…”

“Mom’s in the hospital. She’s on dialysis. She’s in a bad way.”

“Oh, no,” said Leslie softly. “I’m so sorry to hear that. She did tell me in her letter that she was ill. Please give her my best. I’ll keep her in my prayers.”

Beth frowned. She couldn’t help herself. “Your
prayers
?” she exclaimed. “You pray? Oh, really? Well, what on earth did you tell God about abandoning your own flesh and blood without so much as a backward glance? Do you talk about
that
when you pray?” She snorted. “Good-bye, Leslie.” Beth hung up the telephone.

Suddenly the kitchen felt different. The air was now tainted.

It would never be the same again.

From her bedroom, Grace Cunningham reached over slowly and returned the phone to its cradle. Dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, she’d been studying for a sociology exam when the phone rang.

Over the last six years she’d been deeply disturbed by all the gossip that her parents weren’t her
real
parents. It changed her. Grace had withdrawn, spending more and more time alone. Thinking. Wondering. Doubting.

In January, when they sat her down in the living room and told her that it was all true, it was strange, because Grace had known it all along.

Intuition was her best friend. Hers was a surprisingly sharp and accurate asset. Somehow she’d always known, even before the rumors began. Aside from the fact that she stood out appearance-wise, what with her deep red hair and aqua-green eyes, she’d always sensed an inherent disconnect.

Her mother loved her so much, and Grace could see the pain on her face as they told her they’d adopted her when it was clear her birth mother was not coming back. Such pain. How could Grace have said that she wanted to go find that mother? To get to know her? Find out why she didn’t want her?

Rising from the bed, Grace sat at her desk and booted up her computer. Grandma Ingrid had given her a folder. She found the e-mail address and phone number. She stared at them.

The woman had a smoky voice. At times it had sounded almost husky, but with a velvety sort of tone.

Her birth mother. Leslie Cavanaugh.

“
Sorry, Mom,” Grace murmured. Her stomach fluttered. Ambivalence was such an awkward feeling.

The last thing Grace wanted to do was hurt her mom. But she needed to contact her…her
real
mother. She didn’t quite understand why. It was just something she needed to do.

Chapter 24

West Palm Beach, Florida

The following morning, Leslie was at her desk scanning the subjects of her numerous unread e-mails when she saw it. The subject line read:
It’s me…Grace.

Time stopped.

Leslie took a deep breath.

Slowly she moved the mouse over the subject, but paused before double-clicking to open the message. She couldn’t do it. The sender was Grace. The miracle of Jeff and herself.

Her daughter Grace.

What would the e-mail say? What would a fifteen-year-old girl be saying in e-mail to a mother she never even knew existed?

It’s me…Grace
.

Oh, my God
.

Reaching for the phone, Leslie dialed Dawn’s extension.

“
I need you to come down. I got an e-mail from Grace.”

By the time Dawn rushed through the door, she was as eager as Leslie to find out what Grace’s e-mail said.

Leslie rose from her chair and motioned for her to sit. “You read it,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the desk. Her back was to the screen. Her voice trembled. “Out loud.”

“Wow,” Dawn enthused, facing the computer. “She wrote to you.”

“Yeah—listen, the pointer’s already on it and everything; just open it.”

“Okay…here we go.” Dawn double-clicked, and the e-mail opened.

Leslie stopped breathing.

Dawn scanned the message, then began reading aloud.

To:
[email protected]

From:
Grace C. [
mailto:[email protected]
]

Subject:
It’s me…Grace

Message:
Dear Mrs. Cavanaugh,

I overheard you talking to my mom last night and decided to write this.

I don’t want to hurt my mom or anything, but I thought it would be okay to get in touch with you now. I’d really like to keep it secret for now, because, like I said, I don’t wanna hurt my mom’s feelings.

I guess the first thing I’d like to ask you is…why? Why didn’t you want me? What happened to make you not want to have me with you? I think I have some idea from what Grandma Ingrid says, but it’d be nice to hear it from you.