“Did you really?” I knew next to nothing about my mom’s life before she was married to my dad. Nothing specific, at least, particularly about her dating life. “Who was he?”
“A young man named Daniel. I was in high school at the time. We didn’t see each other for very long. Just a few dates, really.”
“What happened?”
Her expression shifted, becoming neutral, like she was trying to hide her emotions. “Your father happened.”
“Oh. I guess the other one wasn’t meant to be.”
“No.” She patted my hand. “And we had you, so it was worth it.”
The implications of that statement were intriguing. This was the most in-depth conversation I’d ever had with her about my father or their marriage. I honestly had no idea how she’d really felt about him. Had she truly loved him? Did she miss him now?
I had so many questions, I hardly knew where to begin.
“Did you love him?”
“Who?” she asked. “Your father or Daniel?”
“Dad.”
She looked down, as if the answer were on the surface of her tea. “Yes.”
“Is that a qualified yes, or a straightforward yes?”
“I did love him. Even when I shouldn’t have.”
This was getting stranger by the minute. She got up, taking her tea with her, and wandered to the sliding glass door at the back.
“It really is pretty here, isn’t it? Is there anything on the other side of that hill?”
“No, just woods.”
“What kind of flowers are those?” She pointed to something outside. “I don’t think I’ve seen those before. Did you plant them?”
“No, they just grew.”
“Such a pretty color. You would have loved picking those when you were little.”
“You’re very nostalgic today. What’s going on?”
She paused, still looking outside. “I’ve just been thinking about a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“The past.”
“Are you okay? You’re not about to tell me you have a terminal illness, are you?”
She shook her head and turned to face me. “No. I’m not sick.”
“Then what’s going on? You decide to come visit out of the blue and then you’re talking about things we’ve literally never talked about as if it’s no big deal. I had no idea you dated anyone before dad. For all I knew, he was your first love.”
“Oh, he was. I didn’t love anyone before him.”
“Okay. That’s sweet, but I still feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“There are many things you don’t know, Audrey. Things I had to keep from you. It was always for your own good. You must understand that.”
The sudden urgency in her voice made me nervous. “What things did you have to keep from me?”
She started pacing, although slowly. “Your father wasn’t a bad man. He was good at heart. He loved his community. I’m sure every politician has a certain love of power, and he was no exception. But he did care about the people of Pinecrest.”
I wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “Okay?”
“I really didn’t know what I was getting into when I married him. He was older than me, and so sure of himself. Such big dreams. It was all very attractive. Even before he was in politics, he was very popular. Everyone loved him.”
“That’s not a surprise.”
“And he was good to me, for the most part. He gave me a comfortable life. And he certainly ensured a very comfortable life for me now that he’s gone.”
She stopped again and set her tea on the table. I didn’t know what to say.
“But there were temptations. Every man in power faces them. Most, if not all, succumb at some point.”
My eyes widened and a sick feeling spread through my stomach.
“He did succumb, for a time, at least.”
“Mom, what are you saying?”
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Your father had an affair.”
Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did, but her words sliced through my heart like a knife. I stared at her, dumbfounded. Heartbroken. Devastated.
“He what?”
“She was his secretary, if you can believe it. Some clichés exist because there is truth to them.”
“How did you find out?”
“He admitted it.”
“And you stayed with him?”
Her expression hardened. “You’ve never been in my shoes, so you have no room to judge me.”
“I’m not judging you, I just can’t imagine.”
“I had a young child and at the time, I hoped we’d have more. He confessed and made amends. We went to counseling. We decided it was in the best interest of the family if we made it work.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
A spasm of pain crossed her features and she looked away. “I didn’t think I’d ever need to tell you. Especially after he passed away. I thought, well, it’s all over now. He was never perfect, but who is? He made his mistakes and I made mine and it’s all in the past.”
“But?”
She pressed her lips together for a long moment, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. “They had a son.”
How I didn’t fall backward onto the kitchen floor, I had no idea. It felt like I’d just been hit in the face with a board. “What?”
“She got pregnant. He did the right thing. He supported them financially until the child was eighteen.”
“Did you know? From the beginning, did you know about all this?”
“Yes.”
Unable to keep still, I got up from the table. “Are you telling me I have a brother I never knew about?”
“Technically speaking, yes.”
“Technically?” It was hard to keep my voice from rising. “That’s not a technicality. Dad had a son, that makes him my brother. How old is he?”
“You were five when he was born.”
“Where did he live? Did I ever meet him?”
“He grew up in town. We took care to keep you apart, and with the age gap, you wouldn’t have crossed paths very often.”
This was so much to process, I didn’t even know where to begin. But there was a particularly nagging question at the forefront of my mind.
“Why are you telling me this now? Is the mom demanding money or threatening to go public or something?”
“No. His mother moved away from Pinecrest a number of years ago. I don’t know where she is now.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“I’ve decided to go to the police.”
I was about to ask why, when it dawned on me what she was saying. “You think he’s the stalker, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Who is he? Does he live around here?”
“His name is Jeffrey Silva. And I heard he’d moved to Tilikum a few years ago.”
I searched my memory, trying to place him. Five years younger meant we wouldn’t have attended middle or high school at the same time. I didn’t remember him from Pinecrest, but had I met him since moving to Tilikum? His name didn’t ring any bells.
“Does he know who his father was? Does he know about me?”
“I can only guess what his mother told him. But I suspect he knows exactly who his father was and who you are.”
“But what makes you think he’s the stalker?”
“Who else would hold such a grudge against you?”
I couldn’t believe I was about to argue for this when I’d been so adamantly against the idea when Josiah had brought it up. “Well, Colin for one.”
“Colin isn’t stalking you.”
“How do you know?”
“He wouldn’t.”
I rolled my eyes because that had been the extent of my argument. “I know it seems like that, but we don’t know. He might.”
“Fine. I acknowledge it’s possible. But I don’t think Colin is capable of that kind of madness.”
“Mom, I think he would have cheated on Lorelei with me if I’d been willing.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s stalking you. Besides, Lorelei is cheating on him. Everyone knows that.”
The burn of bile hit the back of my throat and I almost gagged. “How can you be so nonchalant about that?”
“Because he cheats on her. Everyone knows that too.”
My stomach churned and I moved toward the sink in case I did vomit. This was all too much for one afternoon, especially in the wake of the I hate you note on my car. “I can’t take all this. They’re cheating on each other and everyone knows it? And this is not a big deal to you?”
“There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“But you keep implying that I should have married him. Why would you imply I should have married a cheater?”