Chương 2
Richard remained in the hallway.
Vanessa stood opposite him, holding the silver cane as though she had suddenly forgotten what it was for.
Between them, the pastry tray sat untouched on the console table.
A raspberry tart had slid half an inch from its porcelain plate.
It was such a stupid detail that Elena remembered it for years.
Inside the blue sitting room, Lily refused the sofa and sat on the carpet instead.
Elena sat beside her.
Lily held the teddy bear against her chest.
“Is he my dad?”
Elena had learned that children often asked the hardest questions without giving adults enough time to lie properly.
“I don’t know yet.”
“She said he was.”
“I heard her.”
“And he said he looked for me.”
“I heard that too.”
“So he is.”
Elena tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind Lily’s ear.
“Sometimes grown-ups know part of something and think they know all of it.”
Lily stared down at the blue ribbon.
“My mom said my dad didn’t know about me.”
Elena’s hand stopped.
Lily noticed.
“She said that before she died.”
Elena kept her voice steady. “When did she tell you?”
“At the hospital.”
“Was anyone else there?”
“My aunt.”
Elena knew about the aunt.
At least, she thought she did.
Lily had arrived at the Hale residence three weeks earlier with a small suitcase, the bear, and a letter from an agency that coordinated emergency domestic placements for families known to several private household staffing companies. Elena had been told the girl’s legal guardian, an aunt named Claire, had been hospitalized after a car accident. Lily needed temporary care during the day while social services and extended family sorted out where she would stay.
That explanation had never made complete sense.
The Hales did not run a daycare.
Vanessa had insisted Lily could stay in the staff wing temporarily because “it would reflect poorly” if they refused help to a child connected to one of Richard’s charitable foundations.
Richard had been traveling in Chicago and San Francisco for most of those three weeks.
He had seen Lily twice.
Both times briefly.
The first time, he had passed her in the kitchen and stopped because she had been eating strawberries from a ceramic bowl while helping Elena fold napkins badly.
The second time, he had found her asleep in a chair near the library, the teddy bear tucked under her chin.
He had looked at her longer than politeness required.
Elena remembered because Vanessa had appeared in the doorway and sent Lily upstairs immediately.
At the time, Elena had assumed Vanessa did not like children in the formal rooms.
Now she wondered how many explanations she had accepted because they were convenient.
Lily touched her sleeve.
“Do you think he knew my mom?”
“What was your mom’s name?”
Lily looked surprised.
Elena felt stupid for never having asked.
“Rebecca.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“Rebecca what?”
“Mercer.”
Elena knew the name.
Not from Lily.
From a framed photograph that had once sat inside Richard’s private office.
She had seen it three years earlier when a pipe burst over the west wing and staff had moved boxes and furniture before water reached the carpet. The photograph showed Richard in his late twenties standing beside a dark-haired woman on a dock. He had one arm around her waist. Both of them were sunburned and laughing.
On the back, written in blue ink, were four words.
R + Rebecca, Block Island.
Elena had placed the frame inside a dry cabinet.
Two days later it disappeared.
She had never thought about it again.
Until now.
Lily watched her face.
“You know her?”
“No.”
It was technically true.
It also sounded like a lie.
Lily lowered her eyes.
Elena sighed.
“I’ve seen her picture.”
That brought Lily’s head up.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In Mr. Hale’s office. A long time ago.”
“My mom was here?”
“I don’t know.”
“But her picture was.”
“Yes.”
Lily pulled the bear tighter.
“Mom said he had a big house.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
There were footsteps outside.
Lily scooted closer to her.
Richard entered alone.
He had removed his suit jacket. His dark tie was loosened slightly, which Elena had never seen before ten in the morning.
He stopped several feet away.
“May I sit?”
Lily looked at Elena.
Elena nodded.
Richard sat in an armchair rather than beside them.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
A lawn mower droned faintly somewhere beyond the east windows.
Richard looked at Lily.
“What was your mother’s full name?”
“Rebecca Anne Mercer.”
His eyes closed.
Only for a second.
When they opened, the composure had returned, but it looked assembled rather than natural.
“When did she die?”
“February.”
Richard looked toward Elena.
Elena understood the question he could not ask Lily.
“Leukemia,” Lily said.
He turned back to her.
“My mom was sick a long time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She didn’t like when people said that.”
Richard’s mouth tightened.
“What did she like people to say?”
Lily thought.
“That it sucked.”
A sound escaped Elena before she could stop it.
Not quite a laugh.
Richard looked down at his hands.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds like Rebecca.”
Lily studied him.
“You knew her.”
“Yes.”
“Were you friends?”
Richard took a slow breath.
“We were more than friends.”
“Boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“For a while.”
“How long?”
Richard’s eyes flicked toward Elena as if he had hoped adulthood might provide an escape route.
Elena gave him none.
“About three years.”
“Did you love her?”
Richard rubbed the edge of his thumb against his watchband.
“Yes.”
Lily looked at the bear.
“My mom said my dad loved her once.”
Richard leaned forward.
“Lily, where did you get the teddy bear?”
“My mom.”
“When?”
“When I was born.”
“Did she tell you where she got it?”
“She said somebody gave it to her when they were happy.”
Richard stood abruptly.
Lily startled.
He stopped.
“Sorry.”
May you like
He sat back down.
Elena had never seen him apologize to a child. She had barely seen him apologize to adults.
