Before We Were Strangers

“Thank you, Monica. I see you paid Elizabeth a little visit. You didn’t actually hurt her, did you?”

 

 

“Of course not, but I did give her a piece of my mind. I wasn’t gonna let her off that easy.” She pointed her long index finger at me. “That woman took a shit inside the soul of this family.”

 

“I know.” I had already resigned myself to that reality, but I could tell Monica was still fighting it, or at least trying to figure out how to fix it. “It is what it is. I just have to try to be a part of my daughter’s life from here on out.” I nodded my head toward the door. “Take a walk with me?”

 

She hiked her large Gucci bag over her shoulder and picked up the bassinet. “Can we stop by Grace’s?”

 

“You’re going to give that to Grace?”

 

“Of course. As a gesture of apology for that wretched Elizabeth.”

 

“I don’t know if she’s home, but we can go by there and see. Here, I’ll carry it.” I took it from her hands and looked at the ornate wooden legs and fading varnish and wondered what Ash would have looked like as a baby sleeping inside of it, peacefully.

 

As Monica’s heels clacked down the sidewalk beside me, I laughed at the fantasy of her taking her shoes off and throwing them at Elizabeth. “What did you say to her?”

 

“Oh, I just told her that she was a thief and a liar. She stole something more precious from you than she could ever comprehend. Of course, she denied it and acted like she knew nothing. I told her I wouldn’t believe anything she said. She is the worst kind of person, Matt. A self-deluded, self-involved bitch.”

 

“Do you think maybe she didn’t know?”

 

We got to the corner and waited for the stoplight to turn. Monica sighed and pulled an envelope out of her bag. “She knew something, but she didn’t open the letters from Grace. She threw them away, all except for this one.” She handed me a sealed envelope. “If she was getting a letter every year and going to such great lengths to hide it from you, she must have known Grace was trying to tell you something. I don’t know if she really would’ve kept such a secret from you if she knew what it was, but denial through ignorance isn’t an excuse.”

 

I set down the bassinet, folded the envelope, and stuck it in my pocket. “You might be right.”

 

“You’re not gonna read it?”

 

We were approaching Grace’s building. “I’ll read it. Just not right now. This is it.” I looked up to the front door of the brownstone and then held the bassinet out to her.

 

“Aren’t you going to come with me?”

 

“No, Ash isn’t home yet. She’s still at school.”

 

“You don’t want to see Grace?”

 

“I can’t, Monica. Just go, I’ll wait here.”

 

I turned around and watched an old woman walk her dog down the street, but I couldn’t help but hear Grace answer the door. “Monica?”

 

“Hello, Grace. It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.”

 

“Yes it has. You look great. Life has been well for you?” Grace was still being sweet, even under the shittiest of circumstances.

 

“It has, but it got even better when I learned that I was an aunt.” Monica’s voice didn’t waver. She was determined to stay strong. “That’s why I’m here, to deliver this to you. I know Ash is a big girl now, but I wanted you to have it until the next baby in the family is born, wherever or whenever that might happen.”

 

“Thank you.” Grace sounded choked up but I still couldn’t turn around.

 

There were a few moments of silence and then Monica said, “Here’s my number. Please keep in touch. I know you tried, and I’m sorry about you and Matt and this whole big mess.”

 

“I am, too.”

 

“You’re family now, Grace. Please know that.”

 

“Okay.”

 

A few seconds later, Monica was at my side. “Ready?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Matt, why are you taking this out on her?”

 

“I missed my daughter’s entire childhood, Monica.”

 

“But that wasn’t Grace’s fault.”

 

“I don’t know. It’s confusing and I can’t think about that right now.”

 

The truth was that I couldn’t face her, knowing that she had spent the last fifteen years raising our child, mostly on her own. And for all of that time, she thought I was just a selfish asshole ignoring her letters and calls. She had no faith in me.

 

“I have to stop. My feet are killing me.”

 

“Well, Jesus, it’s those shoes. They’re unnatural,” I said.

 

She took them off and shoved them into her bag. “I know; stupid, isn’t it? The things women do in the name of high fashion.”

 

I put my arm around her shoulder. “You’re all right, you know that? I’m glad my brother married you. Thanks for coming out.”

 

She kissed me on cheek, “I love you. Now hail me a cab, would ya? I’ve got some shopping to do.”

 

I flagged down a taxi and opened the door for her. She ducked her head and got in. “I’ll be at the Waldorf-Astoria if you need me.”

 

Back at my loft I opened the envelope.

 

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