The Memory of Butterflies: A Novel

Her downcast look shifted in a heartbeat, and she smiled and hugged me. “Thanks, Mom.”

The girls drove away. I was tempted to speak with Liam again, but I took my own advice instead—have respect for a man who’d already had enough trouble in his life and give him a chance to get his work done. Never mind my own worries about his being here and Ellen hanging around.

I waved. He waved back, and I returned to my car and drove away. I didn’t get far before I pulled over and checked the location GPS on Ellen’s phone. The girls were already miles away. With a sigh, I put my phone back in my purse and drove home.

I couldn’t quite ditch the feeling that things were moving well beyond my ability to control them.

Soon, graduation. Two and a half months after that, Ellen would leave for college. I would miss her, but that was normal. We’d be back on track then, and this feeling of imminent dysfunction, this uncertain period, would be behind us.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Roger dropped by the house on Rose Lane. I’d been clearing out the closets and making big progress. One pile was for donations. The other was bound for the dump.

I opened the door. “Don’t mind the mess, please. I’m moving soon, you know,” I joked.

He held a folder of papers and wore an expression I couldn’t read. His eyes skipped right over the boxes and general disarray, and I knew his mind was on something other than our project.

“What’s wrong?”

“Here’s the paperwork for the fixtures. Please take a look at it. It’s past time to get this all ordered.”

“Roger?”

He shook his head. I pushed him toward the living room.

“Please sit down. Can I get you something to drink? Maybe tea?”

We made it into the living room, but he refused to sit. Instead, he moved his hands as if trying to find the right words, words that were eluding him.

“Just say it, please, Roger. Whatever the problem is, tell me.”

“Liam.”

“Liam?” Instantly, I thought of my secret. I thought of Ellen. “What about Liam?”

“The other day you seemed very friendly with him. Almost . . . cozy. Today, one of the workmen mentioned you’d been out there a lot, and he insinuated you were spending a lot of time on the porch.”

“On the porch? Does that mean with Liam?” I almost laughed. It was too close to what I’d warned Ellen about the day before. This was crazy. This was me. “What am I missing here? Am I not allowed to be friendly with other people? Why are you annoyed about Liam Bridger? You hired him, and I enjoyed talking to him. What’s the big deal?”

Roger’s expression was grim, his jaw tight. “You know I care for you. I have for a long time, but you’ve always kept me at arm’s length. I’ve tried to accept it.”

“Hold on, Roger. I have always appreciated your friendship, and I care about you, but you’ve had a few girlfriends over the years. I recall you were engaged to one.”

“It’s not a joke, Hannah.”

I drew in a deep breath before responding. “No, it’s not. I’d never want to hurt you. You must know that. But my first and most important job has been to take care of my daughter.”

“I respected your feelings early on, but I thought it would change. But the wall—the wall you built between you and the rest of us mortals—got taller and more impenetrable with each passing year.”

“Wall? We see each other almost every day.”

“As friends of a sort. And for business. I know Ellen approves of me. She’s told me. But you, Hannah Cooper? Sometimes I think you keep me dangling on the line, in case one day you’re desperate enough to need me. You don’t want me, but you won’t let me go.”

“Won’t let you go? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how whenever you need something, or something needs fixing, or you want to discuss something, you call me. You bring me back into your life.” He shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to help. But between being summoned into your life, I start finding my own way, meeting other women. If I don’t have the same feelings for them that I have for you—then neither do they have the power to hurt me by treating me like a hired hand.”

My jaw moved, my lips worked, but no words came out. I didn’t know what to say. But the silence lasted too long, and finally, Roger said, “Let me go, Hannah. Turn me loose. Tell me you’ll never have that kind of feeling for me, not enough to make it worth your while to take down the wall and give us a chance.”

“Roger.” He wasn’t asking for a lot. Honesty and unselfishness. But I couldn’t give him even that, not when I had so much to protect.

He closed his eyes for a long second, then opened them as he shook his head. “See you later, Hannah.”

I let him go. Roger deserved better. I understood he suspected Liam was claiming some piece of my heart he’d never been allowed to touch. How could I explain my heart, my whole heart, had already been claimed long ago when a sweet, tiny newborn’s fist had seized my finger and held it tight?



Roger was barely out the door, and I was still struggling to deal with what he’d said when Ellen rushed in.

“What’s with Roger? He didn’t say hi or wave.” She sounded breathless. “It wasn’t about me, was it?”

“No. He and I had a chat, that’s all.” I frowned. “Why would it be about you?”

She stared at me with her dark-brown eyes, and I saw when she accepted what I’d said. But something more was troubling her.

Her voice trembled. “Oh, Mom, it’s Braden. Or rather, his father. He told Bonnie’s father that you and he used to date.”

“Yes, we went on a couple of dates a long, long time ago. We talked about this at the hospital, remember?”

“Sort of. That night is fuzzy. But the point is that when he told Bonnie’s dad about it, it started everyone talking.”

“Everyone?” The shimmery sensation returned. I touched my chest, wishing away the odd feeling, and reached out to a nearby chair to steady myself.

“My friends. Their parents . . .”

It was just gossip, I told myself. Maybe Spencer’s pride had been a little wounded after the way I’d spoken to him.

“Sweetheart, I can’t see that they have much to talk about. It was nearly two decades ago.”

I moved into the kitchen, forcing her to follow and to give myself a moment to anticipate where this was leading.

“It was weird,” Ellen said. “And awkward. You know Spencer wasn’t married to Braden’s mom, right? At least not until a few years later, and then they divorced, so it was a mess, but Braden’s mom and Bonnie’s dad are cousins.”

“I still don’t see what’s bothering you. People date. It’s small-town drama.” I gave a little laugh to show how meaningless it all was. “It’ll blow over.”

“It’s not funny, Mom. This is about my father. I want to know about my father. When the others are talking about their parents . . . There are times when it’s wrong not to have your own info to share, like today, when people started making their remarks.” She looked away. “Did you know I make things up?”

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