Wonderful You (27 page)

“Thanks, Ben.” She began to nibble at the edges of the round roll in tiny mouselike bites.

Ben, too, ate slowly, watching her face, knowing the pain she must be carrying inside. Had he not carried the same agonizing pain when he learned of his own mother’s illness? Knowing the turmoil she must be feeling, Ben thought her a wonder for being able to function at all.

As a child, Ben had always felt that Delia had been an anchor. As an adult, she had welcomed him back without one word of recrimination for his having stayed away so long. Delia was loving and caring and giving in every way. The thought that she might be ill caused waves of pain to shoot through Ben’s insides like carelessly aimed buckshot.

Finally, when he knew it needed to be said and dealt
with, he asked, “Nick told me you had news about your mother.”

Zoey’s blue eyes looked a paler shade from across the narrow wooden table.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat.

“Would you share it with me?”

“I don’t know if I can.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to tell you, if she’d want you to know just yet. Georgia doesn’t even know yet.”

“I promise not to tell her, Zoey, but it’s clear that you need to talk about it. Maybe I can help,” he added.

“I have a sister, Ben,” she said simply, not looking at him, but at a small red leaf that had dropped onto the table from a nearby Japanese maple.

“And I’m sure your mother will share her news directly with her.” Ben hoped he could be as strong for her as she would need him to be.

“No. I mean I have
another
sister.” She exhaled and looked up into his face. “Laura.”

Had he missed something? Who was Laura, and what did she have to do with Delia’s being ill?

“Who is Laura?” He asked.

“I just told you. She’s my sister.”

He stared at her, feeling incredibly stupid. “Georgia changed her name to Laura?”

“Ben, my mother had a child when she was barely seventeen years old. Her parents forced her to give the baby up for adoption. She recently located her. Her name is Laura.”

It took a minute for it to sink in.

“You mean, that’s Delia’s news?” He held his breath, waiting for her response.

“Yes.” She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

“That’s it? That’s
all?
”

“That’s
all?”
Zoey’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. “I tell you that my mother had a baby out of wedlock when she was seventeen, that she has found this child that she gave up for adoption thirty-five years ago, and that I just
found out that I have a sister I never heard of and you say
‘
that’s
all’?”

“Zoey, that’s wonderful!” He lifted her off the old bench and swung her around.

“Wonderful?” Had he lost his mind? “Can you imagine what it’s like to find out that you have a sister you never knew you had?”

“Well, to someone who
se father died before he was born
, has no siblings, and whose mother died when he was fourteen”—he stopped twirling her and set her down—“finding out
today
that I had a sister would be just about the most wonderful thing that could ever happen to me. And right now, you’ll have to forgive me, but I’m so relieved I could just about pass out.”

She continued to stare at him, still not quite understanding.

“Zoey,” he said gently, “when you and Nick were talking about Delia having news—and judging by your faces, neither of you were happy about
it—I
…
well, I’m sorry, but I just jumped to the wrong conclusion. I
thought something was really…
wrong with your mother.”

“You thought that my mother
was…
”
she said slowly, not even able to speak the last word.

He nodded.

“Zoey, for the record, I’d sell my soul if I could turn back the years and hear my mother tell me that she had found a child that she had thought she had lost, instead of hearing her tell me that she had six months to live.”

Zoey sat back down on the bench and kicked at some dried leaves with the toe of her black leather flat. “Well, that does sort of put it into a different perspective, doesn’t it?”

“I sure think it does. I don’t mean to
minimize
this, not by any means, Zoey. But in the grand scheme of things, one could get worse news.”

Zoey walked down to the creek and stared in. Small fish, minnows, fled to the safety of small rocks when they
sensed her approach. Clumps of dark green skunk cabbage just starting to unfurl grew along the narrow bank, and harbored some small frogs, judging by the plops she heard as they, too, sought shelter from her presence.

“I just found all this out last night,” she told him when he came and stood behind her. “I had thought that my mother was acting strange, but I passed it off as just being tired, touring with this new
book
…
”

Ben rubbed her shoulders gently, trying to ease out the tension.

“Then someone called in on one of my cooking shows and said something about seeing me in Boston last week with my mother. But of course I hadn’t been there. I called her to ask about it. Mrs. Colson said she was away for a few days and gave me the name of the place where she was staying. The Bishop’s Inn, right near the Delaware-Maryland border. So I drove down there, thinking I’d surprise my mother and find out what was going on.” Zoey shuddered, recalling the moment she had turned to look into Laura’s face. “I’m afraid I’m the one who got the big surprise.”

“You met her? Your sister?” he asked gently.

Zoey nodded.

“What’s she like?”

“She looks like me. A lot.”

“She must be a knockout.”

“She’s taller than me by just a little, and our builds are a little different. We have different mouths, but the same
eyes
.
”

“How did you handle it?”

“Oh, badly.” Zoey grimaced. “Couldn’t have handled this much worse if I had tried. I just couldn’t believe it,
Ben…
”

“I’m certain it was a big surprise, Zoey, but surely—”

“Surprise? Try shock.” Zoey turned on him, her face a map of desolation. “Ben, this is my
mother
we’re talking about. About a part of her life that none of us ever even suspected existed.”

“Poor Delia,” he whispered. “It must have broken her heart, to have given her child away.”

“It did, Ben. And it broke my father’s too, when he found about it. That’s why he left us.”

“Your father left your mother, left all of you, because Delia told him she had had a child out of wedlock?”

Zoey nodded.

“Wow” was all Ben could think of to say.

“Yeah. Wow,” she repeated. “At least I know now why he left.”

“And now that you know the truth?”

“It certainly hasn’t done anything to make me feel more kindly toward him, that’s for sure. It’s been bad enough all these years wondering why he left. To find out that he left because of something my mother did before she even knew him
…”
She wrapped her arms around herself and blew out a long-held breath from between clenched teeth. “I mean, that had nothing to do with us. He could have still been our
father.
He simply chose not to be. If anything, it makes me think less of him. If that’s possible.”

“Well, at least in the midst of all this, there is something to celebrate.”

She cast a dubious look in his direction.

“Can you imagine what a joy it must have been for your mother to have found her? She must have ached so terribly, all these years.”

“The Christmas angel,” Zoey whispered.

“What?”

“The Christmas angel. When we were little, there was always an extra Christmas stocking. My mother always said it was for the Christmas angel. We’d fill it with all kinds of things and on Christmas Eve my mother would take it to the church and they would give it to a child who wasn’t expecting much of a Christmas.” Tears started down Zoey’s face again. “I think that Laura was the Christmas angel. I think that Mother hung the stocking for her.”

Ben encircled her in his arms and swayed with her gently, as if rocking a child from side to side to comfort her.

“Laura has a little girl,” she told him through big long sniffs. “A little girl. Her name is Ally. She looks like she is maybe three or four.”

“So. Delia not only found her daughter, she found a granddaughter as well,” Ben murmured. “She must be beyond joy.”

Zoey nodded. “I think she would be, if she wasn’t so afraid of how we’d all react to the news. To Laura.”

Ben reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a white linen handkerchief and blotted the fat tears from her cheeks.

“And of course, I’m afraid I didn’t do much to help her through this. I sort of bolted and ran out the front door.”

“But there’s this thing about doors, Zoe,” he told her gently. “They open out, but they open in, too.”

She leaned back against him, dappled light sprinkling down through the maples that lined the clearing.

“I could go back,” she said softly.

“You could.”

“I could tell my mother”—she bit her bottom lip—“I could tell her how happy I am for her, that she’s found her Christmas
angel
…”

He held her very close, his heart swelling for her.

“And I could tell Laura”—she swallowed hard— “that I would like to get to know her.”

“I think that would be a beautiful thing to do, Zoey.” He kissed the tip of her earlobe. “And I think that Delia will be very proud of you.”

“I wonder how Georgia will feel, when Mother tells her.”

“What did Nick have to say, by the way?”

“Nicky met Laura last week. On Monday. He drove down to the inn to introduce himself. He spent the day there. He liked her very much.”

“As I’m betting you will. And Georgia will too. How could you not?”
She looked up into his face, the question in her eyes. “She’s Delia’s daughter, Zoey. How could she be anything less than wonderful?”

For her mother’s sake, Zoey hoped he was right.

21

Z
oey sat in her car, motionles
s except for the light tapping o
f her fingertips on the steering wheel. She had, just the day before, polished her nails with a pale dusty rose shade, but already she had managed to chip and peel at the polish so that her nails looked blotched, like a pinto pony. Had she noticed, she would have fled to the nearest drugstore in search of nail polish remover and would have swiped her nails clean. Being distracted by other, more pressing things, however, the sorry state of her fingernails was low on her list of priorities this morning.

She had risen at dawn to drive back to Bishop’s Cove. Now that she was there, she sat in tike car, mentally running through all the reasons why she should stay where she was for a while. It was too early to knock on someone’s door. Laura would probably be getting Ally ready for school. She probably had guests to tend to. Delia might be sleeping late. She recited this litany while watching the numbers blink on the digital clock on the dash of the car. It was interesting, watching time pass by, the seconds and the minutes of the day blinking away,
and it held her attention for almost four minutes. Maybe, she thought, she should get a cup of coffee at that little store she passed on her way onto the island. She could get a newspaper, too, and read while she waited.

Waited for what? She sighed and looked across the street to where the Bishop’s Inn reigned over the co
rn
er of the long block. This is silly. My mother is in there. There is no reason why I can’t just—

Movement at the inn’s front door caught her eye and she leaned over the steering wheel to watch. Ally bounced out onto the porch dressed in a dark blue jumper and a short-sleeved white shirt. Laura stepped out behind her and held up the backpack that Ally sort of backed into, sliding her arms through the straps and shrugging it up onto her shoulders. As Laura bent down to smooth her daughter’s hair and plant a kiss on the little girl’s forehead, Delia appeared in the doorway. She stood with her hands on her hips and watched as Ally readjusted the backpack. After exchanging a few words with Laura, who patted Delia on the back, Delia took Ally’s hand and walked with her down the steps, down the cobbled walk, down the street toward the corner. Ally danced a step here and there, and their hands swung between them. Zoey felt her chest constrict just a little as she watched her mother walking her granddaughter to school.

It stung a little, and she was trying to figure out exactly why it should have, when she realized that Laura was walking toward her car.

She must think I’m an idiot, sitting here at eight o’clock in the morning, staring after my mother without speaking to
her
…

“An idiot or an ax murderer,” she muttered as she turned off the ignition.

“Good morning,” Laura called to her as she crossed the street.

“Good morning,” Zoey called back, her palms sweating and her heart pounding. Had she thought that any of tins would be easy? “I guess you’re wondering why I was
just sitting there. Why I didn’t let my mother kno
w I was here…
”

“Not at all.” Laura reached a hand out to her through the open car window and touched Zoey’s arm lightly. “I know you were just permitting Delia to have that time with Ally. And I thank you for it. That was very generous of you.”

Zoey’s cheeks flushe
d, knowing that other emotions—
embarrassment at being caught watching the inn, combined with a sort of morbid fascination at watching her mother in a totally unfamiliar role—rather than any great generosity of spirit, had kept her from calling out to her mother.

“Actually, Laura…
” Zoey sought to explain, not wanting to take credit for insights and sensitivities she hadn’t had.

“Come in and have coffee with me.” Laura had taken Zoey’s hand, and had not released it. Now she tugged at it, and Zoey got out of the car and slammed the door. “The staff is already tending to the guests, so we can have some time together.”

The inn was cool, in spite of the rising temperatures outside. Laura led the way into the big stainless steel kitchen where breakfast was being prepared by a young woman in her twenties.

Laura peeked over the cook’s shoulder. “Ummm. French toast. Lucky guests. How many for breakfast this morning, Jody?” She reached into a tall cabinet and pulled out two dark green ceramic mugs emblazoned with the inn’s logo and began to fill them with steaming, aromatic coffee.

“Sixteen. The Bartons in the Green Room left early to go crabbing with Larry.”

“Do you have enough help?” Laura asked.

“We’ll be fine. Jenny should be here any minute, and Clarence will be in before nine to help clean up.”

The young cook turned and smiled at Zoey, then looked back at her again and said, “Wow. You two must be related.”

Laura glanced over her shoulder and caught Zoey’s eye, as if to ask permission. Knowing that she had to, Zoey said, “We are related. We’re sisters,” and found that the admission had not been as difficult as she might have expected.

The cup Laura had just filled rattled slightly as she set it on the counter. “Cream, Zoey?”

“Yes, please.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Mrs. Bishop,” the young cook said.

“Until recently, neither did I.” Laura forced a smile at the cook, then handed Zoey her coffee with a sort of sideways motion that permitted her to grab her own cup from the counter at the same time. “Shall we take our coffee down to the beach, Zoey?”

“That would be lovely. Yes. Thank you.” The stiff formality of her response caused the cook to turn and look at her curiously, though Laura seemed not to notice. “But if you’re busy here, I don’t want to be in your way.”

“I think breakfast is under control.” Laura gestured for Zoey to follow her through a door that opened onto a brick patio over which a pergola of wisteria draped viney arms and long purple fingers of clustered flowers.

“Oh, they’re so fragrant.” Zoey reached up to touch the delicate blooms.

“And oh so attractive to the bees.” Laura grimaced. “There are so ma
n
y of them that the patio is pretty much off limits during the day while the wisteria is in bloom. But it does scent the back rooms on the second and third floors, and the guests seem to like it. I have an elderly couple who come every year around this time to stay in that room”—she stepped back into the yard and pointed to the co
rn
er bedroom on the left side of the house— “because the wisteria reminds them of their honeymoon cottage in the English countryside.”

“The inn is yours, then?” Zoey fell into step with Laura as she walked down the driveway.

“Yes. Lock, stock, and the bats in the chimneys.” She paused for a moment, then added, “My parents owned
this inn, and their parents before them, and their parents. I’m hoping that someday Ally will want to run it.” Zoey stood on the curb and sipped at her coffee and waited for a lone car to pass before following Laura’s long stride across the street.

“The beach is this way.” Laura pointed to the right.

“I know,” Zoey said. “I found it the other night, on my way home.”

“I should have given you directions.”

“I don’t think I gave you the opportunity,” Zoey said, slowing her pace just a bit. If she was going to get to know this woman, it would have to be on honest ground. And there was no time like the present to start. “I ran like a scared child.”

“I don’t know that I would have done any differently,” Laura conceded. “As a matter of fact, given the circumstances, I thought you handled yourself admirably. I’m the one who ran, Zoey.”

“You?”

“Right out the back door.” Laura laughed wryly and kicked her sandals off at the edge of the beach.

“You’re kidding.” Zoey leaned over to untie her sneakers and pulled them off. “I thought you
were so together, so cool…
”

“Me? Cool? I was so rattled about meeting you that I actually went looking for a cigarette. And I quit smoking almost five years ago.”

“Did you find one?”

“No, thank heavens.”

Zoey followed Laura down the wooden incline, a boardwalk of sorts, that led onto the beach. They walked in silence across the coarse sand toward the water. The waves slid onto the shore, gentle waves that left traces of foamy wash on the beach, and sea birds dipped and dug for sand crabs and other tender morning treats. The morning was still unfolding, but it promised to be a beautiful day.

“Do you mind sitting on the sand?” Laura asked. “I could go back and grab a few sand chairs.”

“No, this is fine. I like it.” Zoey plunked unceremoniously onto the sand and drew her legs up to her chest.

“Me, too. I love it here, particularly in the morning,” Laura told her. “I can’t imagine not living by the ocean.”

“Did you grow up here in Bishop’s Cove?” Zoey asked.

Laura nodded. “Lived here all my life except for the four years I went to college.”

“Let me guess.” Zoey grinned. “University of Maryland.”

“How’d you know?”

“A woman called into one of my shows once and said I looked like her daughter’s friend from college. She said they went to the University of Maryland.”

“Gee, I wonder who that was.”

“I don’t remember her name.” Zoey leaned back upon her elbows.

“I watch you now on TV all the time,” Laura confided. “Whenever I can, anyway.”

The two women stared at each other for a long moment, so much unspoken. Where to begin?

Finally, Zoey said, “You know, it was a caller that made me
realize that something was…
” Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to say
wrong,
so she said, “
…
that something was going on with Mom.”

“The woman who said she saw you and Delia in Boston
,
” Laura said.

“You saw the show?”

Laura nodded, “And I told Delia that she could not put off
…
talking to you and your sister—she had already told Nick. I knew you would put it together after that, and I was so af
raid…”

“Afraid for who?”

“For Delia,” Laura’s voice dropped slightly. “And for you and Georgia, too.”

“Why?”

“Because it was no way to learn of such a thing.” Laura stared straight out at the horizon. “I mean, Delia and I knew about each other, we both knew the other
was out there, somewhere. And I think that we both knew that someday we’d find each other. But the three of you
…
you just didn’t have a clue. I thought that for you to find out about me would be such a shock. For you to find out from someone other than Delia
…
I just couldn’t imagine being blindsided like that.” She shuddered. “I urged Delia to tell you that night.”

“Why didn’t she?”

“You’ll have to ask Delia that.”

“You don’t call her Mother,” Zoey observed.

“I have a mother,” Laura told her. “I have the best mother a girl could ever have had.” She dug her bare heels into the sand. “From the time I found out that I was adopted, I always wondered what she looked like, that woman who gave me away. I had this image in my head, when I was a child, of some very tall person in a long flowing robe tossing this baby bundled in pink blankets over the side of a cliff, and my parents jumping up to catch me, shouting, ‘It’s a girl! We’ll take her!’ I never for a minute regretted being adopted. My parents were wonderful, Zoey. I could not imagine anyone having better parents than I did.”

Laura picked up a half-buried piece of clam shell and began to dig little valleys in the sand. “I never thought a whole lot about my birth parents when I was growing up. I had a mother and father who loved me and gave me all the love and security and sense of
family
that any child could need. My brother and I grew up here, on the beach and on the bay.” She pointed back over her shoulder toward the bay side of the island. “I had a wonderful family. Yes, of course, it was always there, in the back of my mind, that there was
someone out there,
but please don’t think of me as Delia’s orphan child who prayed all her life that her real mother would come back and rescue her from a life of loneliness. I don’t remember ever pining for her. I never felt that I had to.”

Zoey protested, “Laura, I never thought for a minute that—”

“I just wanted to get that out of the way, Zoey. Some
people still have this misconception that all adopted children are desperate to find their ‘real’ parents. I have never felt that burning desire to confront my birth mother. I
had
real parents, all my life. My dad was a great man, and I’ve missed him every day since we lost him five years ago. I have a mother I adore. I’m not out to steal yours.”

“Laura, if I gave you the impression that I thought that you—”

“It’s just that I know that Delia is a well-known, wealthy woman, and I don’t want you to think that I set off to find her hoping to cash in on the fact that she gave birth to me. I had no idea of who she was until that day she showed up as speaker at the historic society luncheon. I mean, I knew that my birth mother’s name was Cordelia Hampton—it was on my birth certificate—but I had no way of knowing that
Cordelia Hampton
and
Delia Enright,
the famous novelist, were the same person. I cannot begin to tell you how shocked I felt, sitting in that room, all of my friends sitting around me, and hearing our illustrious speaker mention her maiden name. I thought I was going to have a heart attack and die on the spot. I just couldn’t believe it. That she would show up like
that
…
I later learned that she had managed to arrange to be there, that she had known how to find me.” Laura looked at Zoey from the corner of her eye and said, “I’m just telling you this because I don’t want you to think that I found out who my birth mother was and chased her to make her acknowledge me.”