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“You’re my son’s choice, and a mighty fine one, my dear. My sons have great taste in women … like their father,” Ronnie said with a smile. He took Harriett’s hand in his and patted it. “Happy birthday, sweetheart, I bet this is a birthday you’ll never forget … because I think there was another potential granddaughter in that conversation somewhere.”
Harriett chuckled. “That’s why you are such a fabulous businessman, Ronnie, you can sniff the commodities out in a whole jumble of conversations.” Everyone laughed and Tammy looked suitably embarrassed. I actually felt sorry for her, because had it been the other way around and James had been my brother, I couldn’t swear with my hand on my heart I would not have reacted the same.
“Right, now that’s settled we’ll be seeing you at the twins’ birthday party?” Billie asked like nothing had happened, and I nodded.
After the family discussion we only stayed another forty minutes, in which time Tammy apologized, looked sheepish, and eventually burst into tears. It felt touching but I still wasn’t sure whether she’d cried for the fact James would never have children or because her own family had ripped her apart. Either way, it had been made clear to me that I had been welcomed as part of the family.
Chapter Sixteen
The following week after our trip to The Hamptons, Marnie called.
“Tricia, we’re going to have to tell Dad about Erin,” she blurted, sounding alarmed before I could say hello.
“What?” My heart almost exploded. Why?
“We’ve been talking about what he wants to do now that Mom has passed away, and he’s decided he wants to sell out. Franco and I had offered to sell our house and move in permanently, but he said he’s had enough of the land. Apparently, he’s wanted to give it up since he was seventy-five, but Mom wouldn’t agree to downsizing.”
“Damn her. That woman has so much to answer for,” I growled.
“Yeah, I knew she was overbearing but I had no idea how bad it was for Dad. I’m telling you, Tricia, I’m glad she’s dead or I would have killed her for sure. But that’s not why I called. This morning, Dad asked to make a start cleaning out the attic. You know what a hoarder Mom was, right? Anyway, you remember what it looked like up there with piles of old schoolbooks, stuff from Gran and Gramps’s old place—heaps of shit that should have been thrown out years ago.”
“And,” I prompted, anxious for her to spill why she’d called.
“Anyway, so I’m sorting through what needs to go and a couple of hours later Dad brought me a drink and began poking through a section I hadn’t gotten to by then.”
“Come on, Marnie, get to the point,” I barked anxiously, as I picked at the leaves of a plant I had stopped by when I’d first answered her.
“Hidden among all the old cardboard boxes was a small metal lock box—you know—like one of those home file boxes you keep important documents in. There wasn’t a key with it, so Dad busted the lock. Tricia, I almost died because there was a bunch of letters and pictures inside … pictures of Erin.”
“Pictures of Erin? Of my baby? My mom had pictures all those years and hadn’t shared them with me?” For a moment I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, my heart felt as though it had been ripped from my chest. I reached behind me for a chair but I couldn’t reach. I was paralyzed by fear that my dad had found out and I hadn’t been given a chance to explain.
“No, honey, listen, there are pictures of her as a newborn and a couple for every year of her life. The dates on the envelopes stop about two years ago.”
“What’s wrong?” James asked, breathless after he’d opened the door to the apartment. He’d stopped dead fresh from his daily run, when he caught sight of my face. I shook my head; speechless from the knowledge my mom had known about Erin for all those years and hadn’t once mentioned her again to me.
“Have you read the letters?”
“No … Dad hasn’t either … well, he did the first one, but I’m sure he noted the date on the envelope and he stared at the baby … the thing is he did look at some of the other pictures, but thankfully the last one he saw was when she must have been around sixteen. But you won’t believe how alike you and she were at that age.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He did remark how the girl in the pictures reminded him of you but asked me if Mom had ever mentioned those people to me. He mumbled something about them being relatives of Mom or something and remarked how strikingly alike you and Erin were.”
“Relatives?” I blurted out, confused and I leaned on the back of the couch, physically shaking.
“Yeah, but I think it was a guess, he didn’t sound like he knew them, maybe he was embarrassed he didn’t know?”
James moved over to me and slid his hand around my waist. He took my cell from hand and placed it to his ear. My heart rate had gone through the roof and I had begun to shake uncontrollably. Noting this, he led me to the couch and sat me down. With his free hand he pulled me tight to his sweaty chest, and spoke to my sister.
“She’s in shock. I need the CliffNotes version of what you’ve just told her.” He sat quietly beside me and listened to her relay the story again.
“If we come to New Jersey is there any way you can bring that over to us tonight?” he asked when she’d finished. Marnie replied and he nodded. “Yeah, she’ll be okay after a sweet tea, I think. She should see those letters and photographs for herself … and read what’s in those letters before your dad does. I think we all do, then we’ll be able to support them both better.
* * *
We drove down to New Jersey and my sister arrived six whole agonizing hours after her phone call earlier that day, in New York. Time had dragged at a snail’s pace.
When James saw her arrive he opened the door, ran down the steps, and took the small metal box from her hands. Taking it into the living room, he set it down on the low coffee table.
