Stonehill series collect.., p.15
Stonehill Series Collection, page 15
“It just got harder and harder, Harry. When the pictures stopped coming, it broke my heart. I wanted to know what he looked like, what he was doing, but how could I ask?”
“She said she sent you her address.”
“I sent money.”
“Until he was eighteen. What about college? Didn’t you think maybe she needed help putting him through college? I mean, we wouldn’t want him to give up having his education, would we?”
She lowered her face again. “Saying I’m sorry isn’t enough—”
“Damn straight.”
“What do you want me to do?” she demanded as she lifted her face to him again.
He’d never seen his mother cry. Even when his father had died, other than a few sniffles, she’d kept herself together. He had wondered then if she were even capable of it. Now, standing before him with tears on her face and her voice cracking, he wondered not if she were capable of crying but if she were being sincere. He swallowed and looked to where he’d left Kara. She was watching from a distance. She had no more flowers in her hands. Apparently she’d finished what she had come to do.
“Kara doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Harry said. “She says she doesn’t want someone in her life who is capable of doing what you did to her. And I don’t blame her, because I’m struggling with that myself.”
“Harry,” she called when he started past her. “I made a mistake. I was too scared to try to fix it. Being a parent means making mistakes, being scared that you’re going to lose the one thing that means the world to you. But those mistakes are made in the name of protecting your son.”
He sighed as he looked at her. “I have the most incredible granddaughter. She hugs me, and I forget all my problems. She is the single most amazing gift I’ve ever gotten. You didn’t just rob me of my child. You robbed yourself of your grandson. Do you think he wants to run up and hug you? Do you think he is ever going to look at you like you hung the moon? I’ll never have more children, Mom. You’ll never have another grandchild. You threw away the only chance you ever had at knowing how amazing it is to be a grandparent.”
“I didn’t mean for things to turn out like this, Harry.”
“Well, they did turn out like this. And it is your fault. You may have lost out on your chance, but I have my son back now. I have his mother back. And we’re doing everything we can to set things right. I don’t know if there’s room for you in that.”
“You have to forgive me.”
“No, I don’t.” He left her standing with her mouth hanging open as he walked to where Kara was waiting. Her eyes were still red from crying, and it made his sorrow run that much deeper.
“Are you okay?” she whispered as he neared her.
He pulled her into his arms, digging the fingers of one hand into her hair as he held her to him. He choked back his tears and hugged her for a long time. Finally, without a word, he eased up enough to guide her back to the car.
“Harry?” she asked when they were inside the car.
“They planned to tell me after I finished school, but Dad died and she chickened out.”
The weight of Kara’s sympathetic gaze on him was suffocating. He shook his head, hoping she understood he didn’t want to talk about it. She looked out the window as he left the cemetery. They drove home in silence. Phil and Jess hadn’t returned yet, making the house so quiet it set Harry on edge. He’d never liked the silence of an empty house, but now that he was used to hearing Jessica talking and Phil watching television and Kara telling him stories, the silence seemed so sad.
He dropped his keys on the table and looked at Kara’s painting hanging on the wall.
Kara put her hand on the small of his back and looked up at him. “You must be starving. I’ll make some dinner.”
He caught her hand as she started to walk away. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
She creased her brow. “What?”
“Graduation night. Us. It wasn’t a mistake.”
She smiled slightly. “No. It wasn’t a mistake.”
Pulling her back to him, he captured her mouth with his. She parted her lips, deepening the kiss as he’d done the night before. Harry was very nearly about to give up on his notion that he romance this woman before taking her to bed, but the slamming of car doors saved him from his lust. He gave her one more quick kiss and wiped her lips dry.
He turned and opened his arms as Jessica darted in. She wrapped herself around his waist and hugged him, and just like he’d told his mother, all his problems disappeared. At least for the moment.
13
Kara knocked on Harry’s door. When he didn’t respond, she eased the door open and frowned. Exactly as she’d feared. Self-inflicted pity party. Not that she blamed him. She’d been there and had most definitely done that. “May I come in?”
He finished taking a drink from the beer in his hand and nodded. Tossing a photo next to him on the bed, he leaned his head back on the pillows and watched her close the door and cross the room to him. She sat on the edge next to him and picked up the picture he’d discarded. She smiled at the image of a tiny Harry standing next to who was obviously his father. They were fishing on a pier somewhere.
“The resemblance between you Canton men is remarkable.”
He started to smile, but it faded. “Phil’s a Martinson, remember?”
She caught his gaze. “He’s a Canton, Harry. He’s your son.” She picked up the pictures, scanning them, pausing every now and then when one would catch her eye. Finally, she set the photos on the dresser. Rubbing his thigh as he finished his drink, she said, “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
She was torn between the urge to leave him alone and chastise him for being difficult. Instead, she grabbed one of the photos—a ten- or eleven-year-old Harry with a black dog—and showed it to him. “This day. Tell me about this day.”
“That’s Buster. He was my best friend. My only friend. I would take him for walks. Feed him. The only thing I didn’t do was clean up his shit, which infuriated my mother. One day he disappeared. She told me he ran away. I overheard her a few weeks later talking about how she’d taken him to the pound. I was furious. I smashed open my piggy bank and rode my bike to the shelter to save him, but he’d already been euthanized.”
“Oh,” she gasped. “Harry.”
“She wasn’t even remorseful. She just said if I’d cleaned up his messes, she would have let me keep him. My entire life she’s been taking things from me. She’s such a selfish bitch. You’re right. You’re so right. There is no room for her in our family. Not after everything she’s done.”
Kara put her hand on his face, but he turned away.
“Don’t. Please. I just need to be alone right now.”
“Harry.”
“Please, Kara,” he pleaded on a whisper. “Just let me go through this.”
She hesitated, debating if she should push him harder. After a moment, she conceded with a nod. She went downstairs to her room, closed the door, and collapsed on her bed. She hated seeing Harry so torn up. He was the strong one, the one who talked reason into her, the one who reminded her that forgiving her parents was the equivalent of freeing herself from the pain. And he’d been right. The years of stress pulling at her had already started to fade. She had a long way to go with her parents, but the first step on the road back to being family had been taken, and with it, so much of her anger had left her.
She wanted that for Harry. She wanted him to find the peace that only forgiving his mother could bring. The problem was Kara hadn’t quite figured out how to forgive the woman herself. She could remember it like yesterday, how Elaine had put her on a bus and promised her she’d be well taken care of until Harry could come for her.
Had Elaine genuinely intended for Harrison to go to Oregon to collect Kara and Phil? Or had she just written them off like they were nothing? Had she gotten scared, like she said, that Harry would reject her and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing her husband and her son?
It was unfathomable to Kara, but who the hell knew what one person would do for the sake of keeping another. If she’d learned anything in her life, it was that everything could be justified if emotions were high enough. She’d justified not coming home for thirty years out of fear of rejection. Elaine had lied for thirty years.
And now Harry was feeling the same pain Kara had so long ago. So much anger and such a sense of betrayal.
He had pushed her to do what she needed to forgive her parents or at least move forward. She owed the same courtesy to him. Grabbing her cell phone off the nightstand, Kara connected to a search engine and looked up Elaine’s address. She knew she was in the same house, but it had been far too long for her to remember where that was. She jotted the house number and street name down on a piece of paper and headed for the front door before she could change her mind.
“I have to run out for a few minutes,” she called, passing the living room. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” Phil responded over the sound of sirens blaring from the television.
She climbed into Phil’s car and drove several blocks. She slowed as she neared Elaine’s address. Her heart was in her throat as she pulled into the driveway. Looking up at the two-story brick, she easily recognized it. Years ago, she’d stood on the sidewalk, staring up the house and working up the courage to knock on the door. She didn’t let the fear stop her now. If she was going to do this, she need to just get it over with. Just like she’d done with her parents.
Face it. Deal with it. Move on.
She rang the doorbell and held her breath. In those few moments, fear sneaked up on her, but she forced it down. She didn’t need anything from Elaine this time. She just needed to say her piece and leave.
The door opened, and the woman who answered poked her head out. Her curious eyes instantly saddened. “Hello, Kara.”
She swallowed hard. “Elaine.”
They stood in an emotional stalemate for a moment before Elaine stepped aside and allowed Kara to enter. The house looked familiar, but so much had changed since the last time she was there. Even so, when Elaine turned and started to walk away, Kara knew she was leading the way to the kitchen.
“I think we need some tea for this, don’t you?” Elaine asked without waiting for an answer.
Kara stopped in the kitchen doorway. The table, though different from the one that had been there before, was in the same place. She’d sat there and told this woman that she was pregnant with Harry’s child. She’d told her she’d been kicked out by her parents and she had no place to go. She’d begged Elaine to call Harry because he would know what to do.
She’d been sitting there when Elaine served her eggs and toast the next morning and explained how important it was that Harry finish school so he could support Kara and the baby. Elaine knew where Kara could go for the help she needed until Harry could come for her.
“How did you find the place where you sent me?” Kara asked without thinking.
Elaine finished filling the teapot with water. “My husband’s cousin told us about it while visiting over the summer. She lives in Oregon. She’d bought produce from the farm. She was very impressed by their mission—helping young, unwed mothers.”
“I imagine you were horrified.”
Elaine turned on the burner and faced Kara. “I wasn’t raised to have sex out of wedlock. Neither was my son.”
Kara lifted her brows. “And then I came along and ruined him, right?”
“As soon as you told me your name, I knew you were the girl he had been babbling about for years. He adored you. I had no doubt your baby was his.”
“And yet you still sent me away.”
Elaine returned her attention to her task, reaching for two teacups. “We thought we were doing what was best for our son.”
She scoffed. “What about his son?”
The cups clanked on the tile countertop as Elaine faced Kara again. “Your parents had kicked you out. Harry had no means to support a family. What did you want me to do? Adopt you?”
“A little fucking sympathy would have been nice.”
“Don’t you cuss at me.”
“Don’t you pretend you had no other choice. You didn’t want your precious little boy’s life to take a turn you hadn’t predetermined to suit your plans for him, but you never once, not for one minute, considered his little boy. My son, Harry’s son, grew up without a father, Elaine. He grew up thinking his dad didn’t want him. You were so scared that you’d lose your family that you robbed Harry of his.”
Her lip trembled almost as much as her hands. “What did you want me to do?” she repeated.
“You should have told him. You should have given him my letters. You should have let him decide what his life was going to be.”
“How could he have supported a family with a high school diploma? He deserved more than that.”
“But I didn’t? I was going to go to college, too, Elaine. I wanted to work in a museum preserving art. But instead of learning the proper technique for restoring paintings, I learned how to barter for diapers and food for my child.” Her vision blurred with tears that fell before she could stop them. “You tossed me out without a thought for the child I was carrying. I didn’t deserve what you did to me. None of us deserved what you did.”
The teapot whistled. Elaine stared at Kara for several long moments before she moved the kettle from the heat and turned off the burner. “Chamomile?”
Kara sighed and wiped her face. “Why not?”
“Sugar or honey?”
“Honey.”
“Sit at the table. I can’t stand you hovering with that disapproving look on your face.”
Kara cocked a brow and crossed her arms over her chest instead of sitting.
Elaine laughed quietly in response. “He was enamored by you. Still is, if I read him correctly at the cemetery. It took him a long time to get over you. I was so proud of him when he married Laura. She was so…”
“Boring?”
“Stable. I’d heard Harry’s stories about you. Free-spirited, sarcastic, rebellious.”
“The first two maybe, but I was far too intimidated by authority to be rebellious.”
“You’re the one who covered that boy in paint, aren’t you?”
She smirked. “That was me.”
“Harry very nearly got himself in trouble saving you.”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“Every now and then, even after he was married, he’d tell stories about you. It was like twisting a knife in my stomach. As if he knew on some level and couldn’t quite let you go. Out of the blue, he’d talk about how you defended his Mount Rushmore project or how you were a great artist. He’d see a painting and say something like, ‘Remember Kara Martinson—the girl I went to school with? I sure hope she’s still painting.’”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I’d see a man with his kid and think something like, ‘Remember Harry Canton—the boy who knocked me up and disappeared without a word? I sure hope he contracted an STD and his balls rotted off.’”
Elaine frowned as she held out a cup. “Sit. If we’re going to hash this out, we’re going to do it civilly.” She lifted her brows. “I assume you came to hash this out.”
Kara accepted the cup and sat at the table. “Harry is hurting because of this. I’d like to fix that if possible.”
Elaine stirred her drink. “I told Harry what happened. His father had died. I was alone.” She shrugged her frail shoulders. “I thought if I told him, he’d leave me here without anyone.” She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were watery. “He was all I had, and I didn’t know what I would do without him.”
Kara laughed at the irony.
“I read your letters,” Elaine defended. “You were raising Phil well. You’d made a life for him.”
“A life? Is that what you call it?”
“He was happy. I could see it in the pictures.”
“He was miserable not having a father, and he blamed me for that.”
Elaine waved her hand dismissively. “All teenagers are miserable and blame their parents.”
“He just wanted a normal life, a house, a dad.” Kara rotated her jaw angrily. “I couldn’t give him that.”
She looked into her mug. “Every time I got one of your letters, I tried to make myself give it to him. To tell him the truth and beg him to understand. Then the letter came that said you wouldn’t be writing again. I didn’t know what to do. I cried and cried. I wanted to write to you then, confess everything. I even considered asking you to help me tell Harry the truth. I thought he would be more forgiving if it came from you.”
Kara laughed bitterly. “Wow. What did you think I was going to do, Elaine? Pretend I hadn’t spent years trying to get him to accept his son via the postal service?”
“After the letters stopped,” Elaine continued as if Kara hadn’t spoken, “it started to seem like maybe it had never happened. Maybe it hadn’t been real. I could bury it. Forget. But every now and then, I’d pull out the pictures and look at Phil’s little face, and I’d wonder what he was doing.”
“You had our addresses. I always sent you our addresses.”
“I know. But I wasn’t brave enough to use them.”
“You sent money.”
“That was easy. That was impersonal.”
Kara lifted her brows. “He was your grandson.”
She nodded. “He must think I’m a monster.”
“I can’t say any of us have a very high opinion of you right now.”
Tears fell down Elaine’s cheeks.
Kara shook her head. “I can’t, for the life of me, begin to understand why you did what you did. I don’t know that I can forgive you, but I do know that the anger Harry is feeling right now is tearing him up, and I can’t stand to see that. I’m going to do what I can to help him come to terms with things and make peace with them. That means I have to make peace with you. But I want to make one thing very clear: I am doing this for Harry’s sake. Not for one moment am I taking you or your feelings into consideration. I am doing this for him. Not for you. Never for you.”
