He sat up in bed, bracing on an elbow, and looked down at her. “We’d better have an honest conversation. I’m fond of you. I like you. I enjoy you. I desire you. You stimulate me in a lot of ways, intellectually and emotionally and sexually. I’m not in love with you, but there’s potential for that if things between us continue in this direction. I want you to ask yourself, right now, do you want that? Because you seem to be in a hurry for something. And I’m enjoying the now of us.”
“Maybe I should go?”
“You can if you want to. I’m not taking hostages. Or you can stay. It’s entirely up to you. But let’s not argue about the future of a relationship that started minutes ago.”
Jessie gritted her teeth and forced herself to be quiet when she actually felt like she had a lot to say, and none of it productive. Frankly, she was scared and didn’t know what to do because she didn’t understand why she was never quite satisfied, why she could never seem to get enough. She’d ruined more than one relationship this very way. The secret only she knew—if he had said he loved her, she’d then want to know when could they discuss their future.
Jason was right, she drove people away. She had no idea why.
She ended up staying the night with Patrick and in the morning he made them a delicious breakfast. Then he drove her home to get the proper clothes for sailing. She offered to take her own car to the marina but he said he’d be more than happy to drive her and take her home. “It will be early today because I’m in surgery tomorrow and that means I have homework tonight.”
“Of course,” she said.
She worked on not asking for more all day and it was torture. She thought it was a successful day all around—the sun was out and Jessie didn’t push for more. But by the time Patrick dropped her off she had a splitting headache.
I have a problem, she admitted to herself.
Anna checked in with Larry and told him about meeting Amy before she set up a visit. “Just remember, we don’t know who the anonymous benefactor is so don’t ask her about the will. If it’s not meant for her, she may decide to sue his estate to claim her share.”
“Huh,” Anna said. “Thanks. I hadn’t thought about that. If she is indeed his daughter, she could be entitled.”
Anna drove from her home in Mill Valley to Alameda, which was just south of the city and, following the directions on her GPS, found a darling little house in an established neighborhood within walking distance of the middle of town. When Amy let her in it was as much like a dollhouse inside as it was on the outside.
“This is so pretty,” Anna said, complimenting the decorating.
“A lot of redecoration and even remodeling had to be done, but now we have a new, modern kitchen and screened-in porch. Would you like something to drink? The weather is so nice we can take it outside.”
“A diet soda would be nice. Can I help you?”
“Yes, just sit with Gina on the porch while I get our drinks,” Amy said. Then she led the way to a charming and cozy porch decorated with indoor/outdoor weatherproof furniture—a sofa, two love seats, two chairs with ottomans at one end and a table that could seat six at the other. There were accent tables, as well, making it a perfect place for entertaining, but right now taking center stage was little Gina in her swing, sleeping.
Anna’s heart softened, for the baby was beautiful and so precious. What would her children think? Say? Would they be angry? Jealous? How could they be, once they saw her?
Anna was back with a couple of tall, iced drinks and that’s when she realized that, although Amy didn’t have the same hair color, she definitely resembled her children, especially around the eyes. Her kids all had dark brown hair and blue eyes while Amy was a blue-eyed blonde, which was more natural. She had someone else’s smile and her face was more round than oval. But now that she knew, Anna could easily see she was Chad’s daughter.
“Have you decided where you’d like me to begin?”
“I want you to tell me anything you’re comfortable with telling,” Anna said. “As you might guess, I’m mostly curious about your mother.”
“Well, I started asking about my father when I was very young and the only facts she was willing to share were that he was a good person, a very kind man, but he was not a part of our lives and wasn’t interested in being a part of our lives. But Bill was interested. Bill is my stepfather. He married my mother when I was five and they had two children of their own—Stephanie and David. They’re twenty and twenty-two now. I did a lot of babysitting. David is in grad school and Steph is still in college.
“When I was twenty-one my mother told me her story. She had fallen in love with a married man. She said she didn’t do it knowingly. And they weren’t involved for very long before he explained that one of the reasons he didn’t see her often was because he was married with children and by that time she knew she was pregnant. He had told her he traveled for work and was out of town all the time but eventually he admitted he’d made that up. So, they didn’t see each other after that. Her decision to have me anyway was strictly her decision. She promised she never begged him to leave his wife and family, nor did she ask for any help.”
“You said he contributed to your welfare,” Anna reminded her.
“Not at first, but later. My mother said he checked in with her occasionally, asking how I was getting along, asking how my mother was getting along, if there was anything either of us was doing without. He contributed to my welfare, though there was never a set amount either monthly or annually. My mother said she had been determined from the moment she found out I was coming that she would be a good single mother.”
“But how? What did she do?”
“She was a nurse,” Amy said. “Probably why I’m a nurse practitioner.”
“And she had a good marriage, in the end?” Anna asked.
Amy took a deep breath. “My mother and Bill were married for seventeen years. Bill had a drinking problem but he’s been sober since they separated. They divorced amicably. He’s still a part of the family, and when my mother was sick and then in hospice care, Bill was very much a part of our lives.”
“How old were you when she passed away?” Anna asked.
“I was twenty-two,” Amy said. “I had barely graduated. It was after that that I contacted my father. I wanted to let him know. We got together twice—we had two very long lunches to catch up. It would be fair to say we never had a real relationship. But he contributed to my college education.”
“Even your graduation and wedding...?”
“My mother said he attended my graduation but didn’t sit with the family and he wasn’t invited to my wedding. My mother had passed by then and it was Bill who walked me down the aisle. I did see my father one more time—to tell him he was going to be a grandfather. After twenty-eight years of knowing he was my father, it was that thing that rattled him. He actually cried. That was the first and only time we ever talked about the fact that I have siblings who don’t know I exist. That was the first time I had a whiff of regret from him. The first and only time he seemed to be sorry.”
“About those siblings,” Anna ventured. “Do you want to know them?”
“That’s really irrelevant, isn’t it? Do they want to know me?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “After all, I just learned about you and my husband is dead! I knew there had been an affair...”
“According to my mother, not much of one. But it only takes a moment to make a baby. When did you find out?”
“It was spring. I had a new baby.”
“Oh, how terrible,” Amy said, then instinctively reached for her baby, lifting her out of her swing and holding her close.
“Of course I didn’t know there was a child. I thought there was only another woman and that was difficult in itself.”
“Did he confess?” Amy asked.
Anna shook her head. “I accused him of seeing another woman, of having an affair. I was relentless and eventually he admitted there had been.”
“But you didn’t leave him,” Amy said. It was not a question.
“I stayed. I didn’t really have the means to support two small children, work, take care of a house and family... And he said he didn’t want a divorce. He wanted to be forgiven. It was a very long time before I could. Your mother must have had an equally difficult time.”
“I don’t remember it being hard, but I was so young. We lived with my grandparents and I was spoiled, an only grandchild. I actually had a very good life. I always felt something was missing but I can’t say I suffered. I didn’t ever suffer, not even later, when I was older. I just wanted to know why our family was different.”
“I grew up in a different family, too,” Anna said. “Mine was like yours. I never knew my father and he died before I ever had a chance. He didn’t help my mother and there were no grandparents. And now I’m a lawyer who specializes in the needs of women and children who are abandoned. I should rephrase, I’m a judge. Of course I’m a lawyer who became a judge. I should be a little pleased that Chad offered support. It was the responsible thing to do.” She laughed and shook her head. “Amazing the way things come full circle.”