She waited until the waiter left the room and then said, “Natalie Kane, my mother—though calling her ‘mother’ gives me the willies—left my father a farewell letter.” Her voice was filled with sadness as she added, “He kept it all these years. He wrote several letters to her, too, but they were all returned unopened. Those letters were in the lockbox along with the marriage certificate and divorce decree.”
“Did you open your dad’s letters and read them?” Sophie asked.
“Yes, I did. He left them, so he must have wanted me to read them. They were heartrending pleas for her to come home.”
“What did she say in her farewell letter? Did she give a reason why she was leaving him?” Sophie asked.
“And Cordie,” Regan reminded her. “She left her baby, too.”
Cordie reached under the table for her purse and set it on her lap as she fished out a folded piece of paper. “I made a copy of her letter because I knew you both would want to read it.”
“What about your father’s letters?” Regan asked.
Cordie shook her head. “I don’t want you to read them.”
Sophie understood. “You think it might color our opinion of your dad?”
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for him. I want you to remember him as a strong, loving father. Natalie was his weakness. Too late he realized he’d thrown his life away waiting for her.”
“Where did he send these letters?” Regan asked.
“The address on the envelopes was a post office box here in Chicago. He must have thought they would be sent on to her. Maybe that’s what she told him.”
Sophie read the letter first, and by the time she’d finished, her cheeks were bright pink. She was irate on Cordie’s behalf. “She’s going to pretend the marriage never happened and start over? Who does that?”
“Apparently Natalie Kane does,” Cordie said.
Regan finished reading the letter and handed it to Cordie, but before she could put it back in her purse, Regan grabbed it again and reread it.
“I can’t believe ‘You can have her.’ Shame on her. What kind of a mother . . .” She was sputtering and couldn’t finish her thought.
“I’m glad she didn’t stay around to raise you, Cordie. After reading this letter I have to say that Natalie Kane is a cold, unfeeling bitch.”
Regan agreed. “If she was going through some kind of mental issue, she had years to get her head straight and come back to her family.”
“No, she didn’t have mental issues. She just didn’t like being poor or being married to a mechanic. Remember what she wrote? If her family knew, they’d disown her.”
They continued to discuss the letter and Natalie’s motives all through dinner, though Cordie didn’t eat much because the topic made her stomach queasy.
“How does a mother walk away from her baby?” she asked.
“I wonder how she would feel if she knew your father left millions of dollars. From a humble mechanic to the owner of thousands of auto shops,” Sophie said.
“Money wasn’t important to my father, but getting Natalie back was all that mattered. That’s why he became so driven.”
“Even though he was worth a huge fortune, he lived like an ordinary man,” Regan said.
“On his deathbed he warned me not to follow in his footsteps. I guess he finally realized all the years he wasted pining away for her.” She sighed then and said, “He taught me a lesson. I don’t want to chase a dream anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Sophie asked.
“I’m not wasting another minute on any man.”
Sophie frowned. “When have you wasted a minute on a man? Men chase you, Cordie. It’s not the other way around.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I’m going to find her.” Cordie made the announcement and waited for a reaction.
“Why?” Regan asked. “What do you hope to gain?”
“I want to know how her life turned out. Did she find what she was looking for? Did the end justify the means?”
“She broke your father’s heart,” Sophie said. “I hope she’s miserable. And poor,” she added with a nod. “I really hope she’s poor.”
“When you find her, will you walk up to her and introduce yourself?” Regan asked.
Cordie pushed her chair back and stood. “No, I don’t want to meet her. I just want to see her with her family. I have no desire to interact with her.”
“Then hire an investigator to find her and get the information you want,” Sophie suggested.
“No, I have to go,” she said, and before Sophie could continue to argue, she asked, “Whose turn is it to pay?”
“Mine,” Regan said. “And I already took care of the bill, including gratuity.”
“Are you sure it was your turn?” Cordie asked. “I seem to remember—”
“I don’t want you to find your mother,” Sophie blurted.
“You wanted me to before you read the letter, and don’t call her my mother. She left when I was a baby. She doesn’t deserve to be called that.”
“I worry you’ll get hurt, Cordie. You just lost your father. You don’t need any more pain.”
“I have to do this, Sophie.”
Regan could detect an argument brewing and decided to deflect her friends’ attention. “Is that a new blouse, Cordie?”
“No, I just haven’t worn it in a while.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask, how did your meeting with Sister Delores go?”
“Not well at all. She likes to have her way.”
“That’s why she’s the principal,” Regan said. “She has to be tough.”
“I told her a long while ago that I wouldn’t be signing a new contract, but she’s determined to get me to change my mind. I’m not going to, though. I want to take some time off from teaching.”
“But you’re a wonderful teacher. The boys love you,” Regan protested.
“I’m determined to make some changes in my life,” Cordie explained.
“What kind of changes?” Sophie asked, frowning.
“I don’t know yet . . . just something . . . different.”
“Come on,” Sophie said. “We all ate healthy dinners, so let’s go in the bar, order cold beer and potato chips, and Regan and I will help you figure out what you want to change.”
Cordie followed Sophie out the door. “Since when do you drink beer?”
“Since I married Jack. I’m taking on all his bad habits.”
Cordie laughed. “Beer and chips. Best dessert ever.”
“Are you sure you want to go to the bar?” Regan asked. “If the guys from Vice are in there, they won’t leave Cordie alone. Both Woods and Zahner are smitten. Alec told me they think she looks like a sexy movie star.”
The hotel bar was filled with businessmen. There wasn’t a single woman in sight. Every eye was on the three of them as they made their way around the tables to get to the far side of the long mahogany bar. It was like walking a gauntlet of admiring stares, Cordie thought, but she didn’t mind. By the time she got to the end of the bar, her self-esteem had gotten quite a boost.
She could hear laughter coming from the poker room next to them. The door opened and Detective Zahner walked out carrying an empty bowl. To say he was scary looking was an understatement. He was the kind of man who made most intelligent people nervous and ready to bolt. He was big and muscular like a professional wrestler, and both his arms and neck were covered in faded tattoos. His hair was long and in desperate need of a comb, but it was the look in his eyes when he was angry that scared the bejesus out of his targets. The only man who rivaled Zahner in terror tactics was Regan’s husband, Alec, when he worked undercover. To Cordie, however, Zahner was a big teddy bear. He spotted her leaning against the bar and headed toward her, his wide grin making him appear a bit maniacal.