“The man who got me pregnant is not who you are,” Laurel said, gritting her teeth.
Heat rose to her face, for perhaps the third or fourth time in Annie’s life. No matter how many beer cans under the porch, or escaped horses galloping through town, Laurel maintained an aggravatingly neutral demeanor at all times. Annie wished she’d lose her shit every once in a while, but Laurel was too rational for anything like that.
“He’s a little bit who I am,” Annie said, testing her. “Don’t you think it’s important—”
“Your father was a dangerous person,” Laurel said, her jaw tense as she spoke. “He fought battles for which he didn’t have the weapons and so I took us out of the crossfire. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him entirely.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“But he was unknown to me in the end, which is why your birth certificate says what it does. There’s also the legal side.”
“There always is.” Annie rolled her eyes. “Counselor.”
“Hey. It’s important. I didn’t want anyone trying to … stake a claim. That’s not the right phrase but I can’t think of a better way to put it.”
“So was he incapable of caring? Or you wouldn’t let him?”
“That’s not fair.”
“I agree,” Annie said. “It’s not. So, is he still alive?”
“No.”
She expected some hesitation, a pause for half a beat. But Laurel spat out the word so sharply and with such bite Annie almost felt a sting.
“All right,” Annie said, feeling off balance. “I guess that’s that. What about his family? Don’t I have, like, grandparents somewhere? Aunts or uncles?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. They wanted nothing to do with us. Why should I waste a single second worrying about them? For Pete’s sake, Annie, after twenty-two years now I’m not enough for you?”
“It’s not like that at all.”
“It’s exactly like that.” Laurel sighed and picked up the old book again. “We leave in a few hours and I have a lot to sort through before then. Maybe we can—I don’t know—talk more when we’re there. Banbury is … it’s hard to explain. It’s a different place.”
That Laurel didn’t have a way to finish the sentence bothered Annie because nothing about the trip made sense. The party line was that Laurel had to shore up a land deal in Oxfordshire. Family business, she claimed. But what kind of business could this possibly be?
As far as Annie knew, their family tree was mostly barren, woefully branchless. She didn’t have siblings, and neither did her mom. Laurel’s parents and grandparents were deceased. There was an uncle-type in Chicago, some third or fourth cousins in San Diego, plus a sprinkling of others throughout the country. All of them were Christmas-card cordial, but if she’d met them, Annie didn’t remember.
Yet there was another tree, somewhere. Her dad’s. Maybe it was as meager as theirs. On the other hand, perhaps it was a redwood, or whatever the British considered a significantly gargantuan tree.
“Does this trip have anything to do with him?” Annie asked. “The family land? Was my father British?”
“Uh, no.” Laurel chuckled without smiling. “The man who gave me you has nothing to do with Banbury.”
“Earlier today I told Eric that you’re more predictable than the sunrise. But maybe I was wrong. So many things don’t make sense. My father. This English home, which you’ve owned for decades but are only selling now.”
“It’s my retirement, sweetheart.”
Laurel sighed again and threw the blue book into a box. Annie leaned toward it and tried to make out the faded gold words on its cover. There was something familiar about the book, and her mother’s demeanor while holding it. It was curious as Laurel was never much of a reader outside legal tomes. This, despite a very crowded bookshelf behind her.
“Okay,” Annie said. “I get that it’s your retirement but where did the property come from? Specifically? Who gave it to you?”
“A distant relative, someone without any direct heirs. Might as well have picked my name out of a hat. I’ve had the home a long, long time.” Laurel smiled. “Almost as long as I’ve had you. Though of course you’re far more valuable. And the property is not so chatty.”
“Why are you selling it now?” Annie asked, still suspicious. “If you’ve had it for so long?”
“I wasn’t being flip when I said it’s my retirement. That’s always been the plan, and in the last few months the land around it has come up for sale, making my property more valuable. Most people can’t retire before age fifty. I’d still be working if I didn’t have this in my back pocket.”
“So that’s it? The mysterious house is nothing more than an investment?”
A funny look wiggled across Laurel’s face.