Blue Ink

by Tess Thompson

  “Don’t look like that,” he said. “No one is as beautiful or special as you. Not to me.”

  “Oh, Ardan. This is so sad.”

  “She’s a sweet person, but she’s lost. She always has been. I’m afraid of the havoc she’ll bring to our house.”

  “But if she wants to come here, you can’t turn her away.”

  “She said she’s hired a private hospice nurse willing to come here.”

  I fidgeted with the necklace that nestled in the hollow of my throat. What could I say that wouldn’t sound either dumb or trite? I bit my thumb nail before yanking it from my mouth. Biting my nails? I hadn’t wanted to do that since I was in college.

  As if he could read my mind, he took my hands and kissed them. “I’m sorry this is happening. I wanted everything perfect for you.”

  “What if we’re supposed to take the baby?” I asked.

  “I don’t understand what you mean. You mean like it’s preordained?” The muscles below his cheekbones flexed. He pressed my hands against his chest. I felt his heart beating.

  “Yes, like we knew about each other?” I asked. “Will it be obvious?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  Images of a baby splashing in a farmhouse sink came to me. “We’ve done this before,” I whispered. “Raised a daughter.”

  “What?”

  I blinked. “Nothing. Just a weird feeling.”

  “That we’ve been together before? Like in other lifetimes?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve had them too. Mostly in dreams,” he said.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and he held me close. “Whatever happens, we’ll be together,” I said.

  “That’s all we know for sure.”

  “That’s all we need to know,” I said. “The rest will become obvious.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ardan

  * * *

  A member of the airline staff brought Felicity out to the gate in a wheelchair. I would not have recognized her if I hadn’t been expecting her. Only hints remained of the striking blond beauty she had once been. Her eyes were the same, although they peered at me from a thin face. In contrast, on her lap was a plump, pink baby with golden curls and her mother’s eyes. She waved a toy in front of her face and babbled.

  I approached, fighting tears and having a stern talk with myself. Keep it together. Be strong. Don’t let her see how shaken you are.

  “Hi, Ardan,” she said.

  I leaned down to kiss her thin cheek. “Hello.” I smiled at the baby. “And this is Isabel.”

  “Isn’t she pretty?”

  “She is. She looks like you,” I said.

  “Sir, would you like me to escort you to baggage?” The attendant was a young man with a military cut and a chipped front tooth.

  “No, we can take it from here,” I said. “But thank you.”

  “I can walk,” she said as soon the attendant was out of earshot. “They insisted I use this wheelchair, but I’m fine.”

  “How about if we just get to baggage and then you can walk to the car?” I’d parked close to the entrance. The Hailey airport was small, thankfully.

  By the time we were out of baggage claim, she’d shared the details of her affairs, including the sale of her condo and the trust she’d set up for Isabel. Her father had left her hundreds of millions, which would now go to Isabel.

  The next thing out of her mouth shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

  “How’s Ciaran?”

  I took a second to answer, thinking through the best way to talk to her about a sore subject between us. “He’s married.”

  “I know. I saw it in the papers.”

  “They just had a baby.”

  She made a sound like I’d punched her in the stomach. “I didn’t know that.”

  “You can’t possibly still care?” How could she still be thinking of my brother when she was facing death and leaving her daughter?

  “I’ll always care.” Her voice was dull and listless. “He’s the only man I ever loved. Now, as I’m nearing the end, I know it more than ever.”

  I didn’t respond. What was there to say? Unrequited love was the most painful of all its forms.

  “Tell me about Charlotte,” she said as we began the climb toward Peregrine.

  “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “Long enough to know she’s the one.”

  “Which is?” she asked with a smile.

  “A couple months.”

  She turned in her seat to look at me and winced in obvious pain at the sudden movement. “That’s all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you barely know her,” she said.

  “Wrong. I know her.”

  “When and where did you meet?”

  I shared how it had happened, including Moonstone’s prediction.

  “You guys hired her because a supposed psychic said to?” Felicity asked.

  “She’s not supposed. She is psychic.”

  “And you fell in love with this Charlotte in a few months?” she asked.

  “Actually, at first sight.”

  “What if she’s just after you for your money?”

  “She’s not like that.” I told her about Charlotte’s writing and her upbringing. “She’s turned Mother around. Before she came, Mother wouldn’t even get out of bed.”

  “I wanted you to raise Isabel, not some stranger,” Felicity said. “Charlotte changes things.”

  “I thought you would say that.” I glanced over at her. She stared out the front window with glazed eyes. “None of this is my business, but I really think you need to consider looking for a couple who wants to adopt.”

  “I want you.”

  “Felicity, Charlotte and I are starting a life together. We have plans. Ones that don’t include adopting a child.”

  “You don’t want Isabel?” Her voice had raised an octave. From the backseat, Isabel babbled.

  I gripped the steering wheel. “How could you ask me to do this? It’s too much.”

  “We go way back. We’re practically family.”

  “I’ll keep in touch with her, like an uncle would. I can manage the trust until she turns eighteen. I can promise you I’ll make sure she’s all right. But she needs a couple who wants her. Do you know how many infertile couples there are out there?”

  “Would you be saying this if it wasn’t for Charlotte? Is she the one who doesn’t want her?”

  “If you want to know the truth, Charlotte said we should meet her and see how it feels, like if it’s right that we take her. I wouldn’t have taken her, with or without Charlotte. Especially without Charlotte. I was a single guy. What would I know about raising a little girl?”

  “You’re gentle and kind. And you’re a Lanigan.”

  “What does that mean?” Was this about her obsession with Ciaran?

  “I want her to be with your family. I want her to have what I couldn’t.”

  “You want her to be a Lanigan? That’s funny.”

  “Funny?” she asked. “I’m serious.”

  “My family’s far from perfect.”

  “You were. Before Finn died anyway,” she said.

  “You were on the outside looking in.”

  “I know what I know.” She crossed her arms and turned away to look out the window. Isabel had fallen asleep with her head tucked into her neck. A beautiful child.

  Not yours.

  It was my father’s voice.

  Not yours to keep.

  “Felicity, I’ll help you find the right family for her. But it’s not me.”

  “Wait and see. You’ll fall in love with her. Everyone does,” Felicity said. “She’s special.”

  Not yours.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charlotte

  * * *

  I sat with Mrs. Lanigan on the patio basking in the late afternoon warmth. Effie had already b
rought Mrs. Lanigan her cocktail and left to make dinner and homemade apple sauce for the baby. Mrs. Lanigan sipped her drink as I read to her from my second Luci manuscript. After I finished the chapter, she clicked her tongue. “Why that agent can’t sell this one is beyond me.” She closed her eyes and lifted her face toward the sun. “I’ve been thinking of my parents. How devoted they were to me.”

  I set aside my laptop to give her my full attention.

  “Do you know I can’t even remember what Teagan and I last fought about?”

  “You could send her an email,” I said. “Invite her to come home for Ardan’s wedding.”

  “It would be a good excuse,” she said.

  I opened my laptop and logged into Mrs. Lanigan’s email account. I’d been checking for her each day to see if she had any mail. I picked Teagan Lanigan from the contact list. “What do you want to say?”

  She puckered her lips. “What should I say?”

  “Just say you’re sorry and you want her to come home.”

  “That seems too simple.”

  “Sometimes simple is best.” I typed into the computer, while speaking out loud.

  * * *

  Dear Teagan,

  This is Charlotte Wilde. I’m writing on behalf of your mother. She wants you to know how sorry she is for the misunderstandings between the two of you. She’d very much like it if you’d come for a visit and bring Christopher.

  * * *

  “Tell her that it’s my fault—everything. I’m a stubborn old woman and I want to make amends before it’s too late.”

  I typed the rest without speaking out loud.

  * * *

  Your mother’s contrite and humbled. Being vulnerable has changed the way she views her relationships with her children. She feels a sense of urgency to fix things between you. She’s doing much better than when I arrived. She’s up and moving—healing and learning to cope with her lack of sight. I know it might be hard to let go of the anger and resentment but think how much better it would be if you were able to reconcile now, rather than live with regret.

  * * *

  “You’re typing a bunch. What’re you saying?”

  I looked up. “I simply told her that you’re feeling unsure of your future and that you’d like to reconcile before you go.”

  “That about sums it up,” she said with a stubborn set of her jaw.

  “Should I hit send?”

  “Yes.”

  I glanced at my words one more before hitting the send button. When I looked up, I realized Mrs. Lanigan was crying.

  “What is it?” I asked, alarmed. I set the computer aside and grabbed a handful of tissues from my pocket.

  “I wasted all this time being angry with Teagan and now I won’t know what my grandson looks like.”

  I placed a few tissues in her hand and took in a deep breath, her pain, my pain. “I’ll be here the whole time. I’ll describe him to you. Every detail. You’ll be able to hear his voice and feel his face and skin and smell his hair. You’ll still know who he is. His true essence isn’t what he looks like. Souls are felt, not seen.”

  She sniffed and dabbed her cheeks. “I thought the eyes were the windows to the soul.”

  I thought about Ardan’s eyes, how they had seemed that way to me the first time I looked into them. “There is more than one pathway to the soul. All you need is quality time with him. You’ll see.”

  “What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “He’ll like you. Everyone loves their grandmother. You might consider taking your sharp tongue down a notch, though. He’s only six.”

  She let out a shaky laugh. “I can’t be you.”

  “No, but you can be ‘fun grandma’ ”

  “How? I can’t do anything with him. Not without my eyes.”

  She had me stumped. It did seem that activities a six-year-old would be interested in weren’t necessarily a good fit with Mrs. Lanigan.

  “What is this? For once you don’t have an answer?” she asked.

  “We’ll think of something. Once we meet him, we’ll know.”

  “You’re a ridiculous optimist.”

  “Who else could put up with you?”

  “I have proof I’m not a good grandmother.” Her voice sounded raspy. “Rori, Kevan’s daughter, and I don’t exactly have the closest relationship. As far as I can tell, she thinks I’m a horrid old lady.”

  “Do you want me to send her an email?”

  “Let’s call her instead. I’d like to hear her voice.”

  “Did you remember to put your phone in your pocket?” I asked.

  “I’m blind, not senile.” She reached in and found it easily. I took it from her outstretched hand.

  “You’re doing well.”

  “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself. It’s very unbecoming.”

  “See there? You saw right into my soul by deciphering the tone of my voice.”

  She shook her head. “You think too much of yourself.”

  I pulled Rori’s name up from the contact list and pushed the call button.

  A second later, Rori answered. “Hi, Grandmother.”

  “Hi. You’re on speaker phone,” Mrs. Lanigan said. “Charlotte’s here with me.”

  “Hey, Charlotte. Uncle Ardan texted that you guys are getting married. That’s so awesome.” She had a sweet, almost raspy voice. “I’m excited to meet you. All the girls in my dorm are passing your book around. Uncle Ardan sent a few paperbacks out to me.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I said.

  “Everyone loves it,” Rori said. “Even though it’s kept a few of us up too late reading when we should be studying.”

  “Will you be home for the summer?” Mrs. Lanigan asked.

  “For sure. I wouldn’t miss the wedding. Plus, my boyfriend and I want to spend the summer with my family.”

  “Same boyfriend?” Mrs. Lanigan asked.

  “Yes, same one. Cole.”

  “Isn’t it time you moved on from him?” Mrs. Lanigan asked.

  “Moved on?” A sharp edge crept into Rori’s voice.

  I tapped Mrs. Lanigan on the knee. “Be nice,” I whispered.

  She ignored me.

  “His mother’s a drug addict,” Mrs. Lanigan said. “He wasn’t exactly raised in the most stable environment. Is he the man you want to be the father of your children?”

  “Cole and my dad are super close,” Rori said. “We’re all the family he needs.”

  “Sure. With all the money we have, who wouldn’t want to be close to us?” Mrs. Lanigan said.

  “Grandmother, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Isn’t your father paying for his college?”

  “So what?” Rori asked. “My dad offered. He believes in him.”

  “What’s he like?” I asked, hoping to defuse the tension.

  “He’s a computer genius,” Rori said. “Super smart, funny, sweet. We’ve been together for years now. He wants to get married after I’m done at the University of Oregon.”

  “Oh, brother,” Mrs. Lanigan said under breath.

  “He sounds great,” I said. “I look forward to getting to know you both.”

  “Me too,” Rori said. “But hey, I need to go. Lots to do.”

  “Bye, Rori,” Mrs. Lanigan said.

  “Bye, Grandmother. Bye, Charlotte.” She hung up.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Can’t I share my opinion?”

  “No, you can’t. Not when it sounds like criticism.”

  “I worry. Cole’s mother is about as trashy as you can get.”

  “Do you see how you alienated her?”

  “Well, excuse me for looking after my own granddaughter.”

  “You know full well that wasn’t the way to do it.”

  “Fine. You’re right. I’m a work in progress.”

  “You can say that again,” I said. “If we can get Teagan to visit, you have to hold your tongue. Not everyone needs your opinion a
nd most don’t want it.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “You’re always asking for my opinion.”

  “That’s because we’re close. We’ve established trust. We understand each other.”

  “Why can’t everyone be as easy as you?” she asked.

  “It’s easier because we’re not family. There’s no history there. No easily uncovered scars. The closer you are to people, the more they can hurt you.”

  We were interrupted by the sound of a car in the driveway. I drew in a deep breath. As much as I’d tried to convince myself otherwise, I was frightened. Felicity Spinner was an unknown. Despite my bond with Ardan, he went way back with her. He’d once fancied himself in love with her. He’d admitted how many times she’d wreaked havoc on his life. Would this be yet another occurrence?

  Mrs. Lanigan shook her glass at me. The ice rattled like the thoughts in my head. “You do what’s best for you and Ardan. This baby is not your responsibility.”

  The sound of the patio door opening stole any chance of further discussion. I had a feeling it was the first of many.

  Ardan carried a baby on his hip. Fine blond hair stuck up in tufts on top of her perfectly round head. Big blue eyes seemed to take everything in at once. The woman next to him was not the same woman I remembered from television footage of her parents’ funeral or from the society section of Vanity Fair. She was as thin as the pages of Augie’s letters. Her once long and shiny blond hair had been replaced with a pink scarf. I silently cursed cancer.

  I stood to greet them as Ardan introduced us. “Felicity, this is Charlotte Wilde, my fiancée.”

  “Welcome,” I said as I held out my hand.

  She gave it a quick but faint squeeze—frail and weak. Why did it have to be this way? “It’s nice to meet you.” Felicity’s smile was warm and inviting. Even cancer couldn’t strip a woman of her beautiful smile. Felicity knelt closer to Mrs. Lanigan and kissed her on the cheek. “Mrs. Lanigan, it’s nice to see you.”