When You Make It Home (29 page)

I was tempted. I wanted to know. Although I wouldn’t say it out loud, my whole life I’d deeply longed for the love and approval of the woman who’d walked out on me.

“What would your shrink say?”

Nina grinned. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Give it to me straight.”

“My shrink would say only you can decide if this is what you need to do.” Nina lifted her chin. “But you must find a way to break the pattern of loving men who aren’t available to you. You have to believe you deserve love. It will make a difference in your life, but more importantly, it will make a difference to your daughter. Otherwise, you’ll be teaching her the lessons you don’t want her to learn.”

“Okay, I need to think.”

“Let me know what you decide. I’m going to go home, pour a glass of wine, and drink it in bed.”

“I can’t convince you to stay?”

“No, I’ve appreciated the way you and Ellie have embraced me, but tonight I think I need to be alone. It’s been too long since he looked at me with that same level of kindness and compassion. If he doesn’t want to come home with me, then I’ll go home alone.”

“Are you sure you still want to help out with the Brooke and Bella event?” I asked, giving her a chance to bow out. “You know, Hazel and Dad will be there, too.”

Nina put on her most professional smile. “Absolutely! I have it all planned out. Everything is ready. I can deal with your father.”

“Ok.” I hugged the letters to my chest. “Thank you, Nina.”

I didn’t want to bring the letters inside, so I went and stood next to my car. Once I read them, I would confront Dad. If Steve found out I had them, he would tell me not to open old wounds. But I wasn’t ready to let go. Nina was right. I had to confront my past before it tore me apart. Maybe she was also right about my mother waiting for me to take the first step. At first I put the collection of envelopes on the passenger seat, but then I decided to slip them under the driver’s seat. Caught up in what I was doing, I didn’t notice him approach my car. I pulled myself back up and locked the car. When I turned around I stumbled into Theo.

His arms came around me to steady me. “Hey there,” he said. “I’ve looked all over for you. I thought you left.”

I looked up to the cloudless sky and then back at him. “Gosh, that must’ve been hard for you.” I tried to pull back, but he held me tighter.

“Wait,” he whispered, staring into my eyes until I stilled against him. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you.” He slid his hands up my back and held me against him. He buried his face in the curve of my neck, as if breathing strength off my skin. “I have some things to say to you.”

I inhaled the familiar smell of a man I’d craved for weeks. My body gave in, relaxed against him.

Theo’s cheek brushed against mine. His mouth blazed a hot path to my mouth. Once we connected in a kiss, time sped up, our lips sliding, tasting, hungry and hot for each other. Theo clung to me, devouring the moans that escaped my throat.

I thought the words before I said them out loud. “No, no.” I pushed against him, and took a step back. “You can’t do this to me again. I won’t let you.” I turned and walked on unsteady feet back to the house. Before I reached the porch I heard him start his truck and pull away. Relief washed over me, and I rested my head against the door for a minute.

I managed to pull it together and thank the guests as they departed. Wandering to the back of the house, I found Hazel and Dad rocking on a swing. They laughed, in on a private joke, lost in their moment. My fury flamed. How could he move on without Nina? I’d had enough.

I walked up to him. “Dad, why did you ignore Nina? She’s trying so hard to get you back, and you spend all your time with her.” I pointed at Hazel.

“Meg, don’t be rude.” He placed his arm comfortingly around Hazel’s shoulders.

“No, she’s right. I should leave,” Hazel said. She stood up from the swing and brushed the front of her pants.

“Hazel, don’t leave. You belong here,” Dad said.

“
Dad,
” I said exasperated. “She’s a store employee.”

“Meg—”

“No, I need to say this. You do a great job, Hazel, but you have no boundaries. My life is none of your business. The hours I work are none of your business. My married father is none of your business, and if you insist on wiggling your way into our family, Steve and I will need to let you go.” My chest rose and fell with the force of energy that surged from months of stuffing my outrage at her intrusiveness.

My father stood. “That’s enough, Meg.”

“She’s right,” Hazel said, ducking her head. “I have no business here.”

Dad took her hand. “Yes, you do, Hazel. It’s time. Tell Meg.”

“Tell me what?” Acid churned in my stomach. I didn’t care what she had to say; I knew from the look on my father’s face that trouble was ahead.

“You tell her,” Hazel whispered to my father.

“Meg,” Dad said gruffly and raised Hazel’s hand, gripped in his. “Meet your grandmother.”

My mouth went dry. I looked from Hazel back to my father. “But your mother’s dead.”

“Hazel is your mother’s mother.”

I stepped back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That doesn’t matter. She’s here now, and she wants to get to know you and Steve better.”

“She’s here now?” I raised an eyebrow, looking from Hazel to my dad and back again. “That’s really creepy. You… you’ve worked at the bookstore for over five years. I’m not doing this. I have to go.”

I raced through the house. Jake had taken Ellie back to her bed. Everyone was gone except for Steve and Chelsea, who were lounging on the sofa.

“Hey, good party,” Steve said. “I loaded everything in your car for you.”

I thought of the letters hidden under my seat, and I could hardly breathe.

“Thanks, I have to go.” My voice quivered. “Tell Ellie I’ll call her later.”

“I’m sorry about the other night,” Steve added.

“Me, too,” Chelsea echoed.

“That means a lot, thank you.”

Chelsea hopped up and came to my side. “I’ll walk you to your car.” She grabbed my hand, pulling me along. “What’s up now?”

“I can’t tell you.” I didn’t look at her.

“You can tell me everything,” Chelsea replied, squeezing my hand.

“I need to dump on someone. I need you to be my friend right now and not my brother’s girlfriend.”

“I’m both,” she said. “One doesn’t compromise the other.”

“So can I speak in confidence?”

Her hands landed on my shoulders, shaking me. “Absolutely, spill it.”

“Nina gave me letters my father’s been sending to my mother for years, and I finally know where she lives.”

“Oh goodie, I can’t wait to read them.” She bounced up and down, her boots crunching the gravel in the driveway. “Are you going to call her?”

I cringed. I didn’t want to share the letters with anyone. I considered Chelsea’s question. “I want to go see her.” Once the words came out, I knew it was the only decision I could live with. “Hazel is her mother,” I added.

“Hazel is whose mother?”

“Hazel is my mother’s mother—she’s my grandmother.” The words tasted sour on my lips. “Oh, this is too weird.”

“What?” Chelsea’s mouth fell open. “Well, there you go! She can fill in all the blanks.”

“I don’t want to hear what she has to say. My grandfather hired her years ago, and she kept her identity from Steve and me. ”

“So get to know her now.”

“
No
.”

“That’s plain stupid. You have a chance to fill in the blanks, and you want to stay in the dark. Sounds a little chicken to me.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, brushing her off. I couldn’t tell her what I was going to do. That would be asking her to keep too much from Steve.

“Sleep on it,” Chelsea said. “Everything will be clearer in the morning.”

As it turned out, she was right. By morning my plane had landed in Atlanta. I was on my way to meet my mother.

Chapter Twenty-five

I
read the first letter from the bottom of the stack after takeoff.

Dear Candace,

Come home. Please. We miss you. The kids are fine, but they keep looking for you, asking for Mommy. You would make us all happy if you would only come back. I love you with all my heart and I only want good things for you. If you’re not ready yet, just know I am always ready for you. Don’t question that. I will never stop waiting for you, my love. We want you back.

Truly yours,

Mike

If I could’ve sent a letter to Theo in the days and weeks after he left, it would’ve been very similar to Dad’s letter. Dad’s pain, from all those years ago, cut into me.

The letters increased in urgency. Dad bared his soul, and my mom never opened a single envelope. How could she deny Dad’s love? I was the first and only one to see inside his agony, and the ache in my chest grew until I felt like she was breaking my heart.

The letters changed about the time Nina came into his life. They became distant—simple updates about Steve and me. Then came a heart-wrenching letter:

Dear Candace,

I can’t do this alone anymore. I’ve lied to myself, believing you’d return. No more. I’ve met someone new. The kids like her, and she loves us. I never wanted to give you an ultimatum, but I have to ask one last time. Come home. You are my heart. You are almost out of time—when I move on that’s it for me. But still, I want you back, and the kids need you.

Truly yours,

Mike

By the time I got to baggage claim, my feet throbbed, my back ached, and my stomach growled, although I didn’t want to eat. I’d planned only on a carry-on with enough for a few nights, but then I got wistful. I had packed my largest suitcase with scrapbooks, photo albums of me and Steve, my favorite books, my lucky shoes, and a pregnancy journal where I kept my sonogram images. I knew I might be setting myself up, but when I jumped in I tended to go feet first.

I sat in a blue, plastic-molded chair, pulled out the remaining four letters, and tuned out the swarm of people around me. I read until I reached the final one. It included a photograph of me and Steve wearing our gowns at our high school graduation.

Dear Candace,

This is the last letter I will send. They are all grown, and you’ve missed it all. You’ve missed all the beauty of their lives, the blessing of their growth; but most of all they’ve missed you. Through the years I held out hope you would come back to them. How could I have been so wrong?

Mike

“Excuse me, ma’am—is this yours?” an older guy asked, holding up my suitcase. “Are you alright, dear?”

I swiped away the tears that streaked down my face. “Yes, thank you.”

I took a cab from the airport to a high-rise in Midtown Atlanta. The air was still and humid. Beads of sweat formed on my upper lip. I wiped them away and forced the thick air into my lungs.

A man with cropped gray hair and a neat uniform approached me in the lobby of the high-rise. “Ma’am, can I help you find somebody?”

“I’m visiting Candace in apartment 916.” I forced myself to sound brave, confident, expected. Wanted. For all I knew she’d turn me away. But even with that risk, I had to see her.

He led me to the elevator in a well-lit alcove. “Good day, Ma’am,” he said with a nod. Alone, I rode the elevator up to the ninth floor. I looked in the mirrored elevator doors and realized I was a little rough around the edges. I powdered my face, applied fresh pink lipstick, and ran my fingers through my hair. By the time the doors opened, my heart was pounding violently. I walked down the emerald-green-carpeted hall, reading the numbers, until I reached apartment 916.

I knocked, and right away, I heard movement on the other side. The door swung open. She smiled, and I had no doubt: I was looking into the eyes of my mother.

“Hello.” I smiled back at her. “My name is Meg.”

She made a squeal of delight and jumped toward me. “I always
knew
you’d come see me, one day.” As she took me into a hug, I saw that her belly matched mine. My mother was pregnant.

Chapter Twenty-six

“L
ook at us.” She stepped back. “We match! I guessed we looked about the same, but not this close. Come in. Oh honey, what a nice surprise. You’re beautiful.”

She looked like a fairy. Her tiny frame was petite everywhere except where a baby grew. Her long hair was a shade or two darker than my honey-blond, and it fell in waves all the way down to her waist. I knew she was almost forty-two, but she appeared years younger.

I followed her into the apartment, my head spinning from the way she acted as though she’d only seen me two weeks ago. My whole life, I’d thought about what I would say to her if given the chance. But she took control of the conversation.

“When are you due?” She sat on a faded plaid sofa, tucked her feet up under her exactly the way I always do, and patted the cushion next to her. “Sit, sit, sit. Tell me everything.”

I dropped down next to her. “I’m due in six weeks,” I said, rolling along with the freakish way she seemed completely at ease. “How about you? Do you have any other children?” It occurred to me for the first time that my family could be bigger than I thought.

“No, this is my first,” she said, not catching her error. “You’re so lucky to be almost done. I have eleven weeks to go.” She leaped off the sofa like a cat. “Let’s go eat.” She turned down a hall. “Don’t you want to eat all the time? I can’t stop myself anymore. I woke up in the middle of the night and made a pimento cheese sandwich. I’ve never touched the stuff before, but now it’s like candy. Oh!” Her childish laugh was musical. “Get it? Like Candy! You can call me Candy.”

Her hair swayed from side to side as she waddled down the hall. She was definitely more of a Candy than a Candace, and we’d both be weirded out if I called her “Mom.” I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she pulled out bread and peanut butter. “Is this okay with you? I need to go to the store. I’m out of everything.”