Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1

by Freethy, Barbara

  "She died in a fire," Susan began, then stopped. "But that picture you showed me... Can I see it again?"

  Julia handed her the photo and watched the myriad emotions cross Susan's face as she studied the picture. She traced Sarah's figure with a shaky finger.

  "This is her, my baby, but she's so much older than when I last saw her."

  "She was fifty-one then, fifty-eight when she died this year."

  Susan started shaking her head again. "She was thirty-three when she died. I know, because it was right after her birthday. We got a call from Chicago," she said haltingly. "A woman we didn't know. She said she was Sarah's next-door neighbor and that she had horrible news. There had been a fire in their apartment building. Sarah didn't get out. There was nothing but ash when it was over." Her voice caught and she struggled for control. "I couldn't believe Sarah was dead. I thought it was a nightmare, and I would wake up, but I didn't." She turned to Julia, her brown eyes big, pleading, filled with pain. "Why? Why would anyone tell me that she was dead if she wasn't?"

  Julia swallowed hard, her heart breaking at the agony on her grandmother's face as she relived the moment when she'd heard her daughter was dead. Only now she had to grapple with the fact that Sarah hadn't died then. She'd lived for another twenty-five years, but she'd never gotten in touch. Why not?

  "My mother said that you turned her away when she got pregnant," Julia said again. "Do you know why she would have told me that?"

  Susan's face was a portrait of confusion. "I don't know. Sarah was pregnant once, when she was twenty-seven years old. She had an ectopic pregnancy, in the tubes, you know. She had a lot of complications. The doctor said she'd never have children after that. She was devastated by the news. Her boyfriend left her. He couldn't bear the thought of marrying her and not having kids. It was a very sad time."

  Julia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But she had me, and she had another child, too, my little sister, Elizabeth. She had two pregnancies after that one."

  "How old are you?" Susan asked.

  "I'm twenty-eight. My mother was thirty when she had me. How could you have not known about me? That would have been three years before she supposedly died in that fire."

  Susan started to speak, then began to cough, choking on the emotion, Julia thought, as her grandmother's cough turned to sobs. Susan struggled to get up. "I have to..." She didn't finish her sentence, but they could hear her crying all the way to the bathroom.

  "This is awful. We're killing her," Julia whispered. "I don't know what to do."

  "You can't stop now," Alex said. "You're in the middle of it, and she deserves to know the truth, too, don't you think?"

  "Maybe she would have been happier not knowing. I'm ruining her life. Her daughter lied to her and never visited her or spoke to her in twenty-five years." Julia shook her head, not understanding how her mother could have done such a thing. The woman who had raised her had been kind, gentle, and compassionate. How could she have turned her back on her family? Unless there was some misunderstanding... That had to be the reason. Sarah had obviously believed the Davidsons didn't want her. Why?

  "I wish my grandfather was still alive," she said to Alex. "Maybe he knew more than he shared with his wife."

  "Somebody knew something," Alex said. "If we ask enough questions, maybe we'll get to the truth."

  "This is hard."

  "Just stay focused on what we're trying to accomplish."

  She eyed Alex thoughtfully. "Is that what you do when you're in a difficult situation—you simply put your heart on hold?"

  "It's how I survive."

  "I don't know if I'm made that way. I hate hurting people."

  "In the long run you might be helping her. She may have lost her daughter again, but she's gained two granddaughters. That should be worth something."

  She smiled at his attempt to make her feel better.

  "That didn't work, but I appreciate the effort." She rose as Susan walked back into the room with a box of Kleenex. Her eyes were red and swollen now, and she appeared to have aged ten years since they'd arrived, but she wasn't crying anymore. That was something. "Are you all right?" Julia asked.

  "I don't think so. But I want to hear the rest of your story."

  "I'm glad," Julia said, offering her a thankful smile. "It means a lot to me."

  "You're really my granddaughter?" There was a note of wonder in her voice, but no sign of anger or disappointment.

  "I think so. Why don't we sit down? We can start at the beginning, wherever that is."

  "Why don't we start with Sarah and her years at Northwestern," Alex suggested as Susan and Julia took seats on the couch.

  Susan twisted a Kleenex between her fingers as she considered Alex's question. "Sarah was in Chicago a long time. After she got her bachelor's degree, she went to graduate school to get a master's degree. She wanted to work at the United Nations, something important like that. She always had big dreams of changing the world. She used to sit with my mother for hours, listening to her stories of life in the old country. I think that's where her passion for the language began. She would often call my mother on the phone just to practice her accent."

  Julia's heart skipped a beat. She had the terrible feeling she knew what accent Sarah had been practicing. She looked to Alex and saw the same gleam in his eyes.

  "What language did Sarah speak?" Alex asked.

  "Didn't I say? I'm sorry. My mother was Russian. Sarah spoke fluent Russian."

  Chapter Nine

  Julia couldn't stop the gasp that slipped through her lips. "Your mother was Russian?"

  "Yes, my mother came over to this country right before the revolution. She never lost her accent or her desire to speak her native language. I'm afraid I didn't share that desire. It embarrassed me that my mother spoke a foreign language, but Sarah was different. My mother came to live with us when Sarah was a teenager. They loved each other very much. They had a special bond." Another tear drifted down her cheek. "My mother died when Sarah was twenty-four. It was a very difficult time for her. They were so close." She wiped her face with her tissue.

  It was too much to take in, Julia thought. She had so many questions, she didn't know which one to ask first. She got up and paced around the living room, too restless to sit. She walked over to the mantel and picked up a photograph of Susan and a man who was obviously her husband.

  "That's Henry," Susan said. "He died last year."

  Julia picked up another photograph, one of Sarah as a little girl, sitting at a piano—the same piano that was in the corner of the living room. "She told me she didn't know how to play the piano," Julia murmured.

  "Really? Sarah was very good at it," Susan said.

  "It's strange. I've seen the picture, but I don't feel as if we're talking about the same person."

  "I don't, either," Julia replied.

  "Tell us what happened after Sarah got her master's degree," Alex interrupted. "What kind of work did she get?"

  "She got a job teaching Russian at a university," Susan replied. "She fell in love with a professor there. He was the father of the baby she lost. After he broke up with her, she quit her job, and I'm not sure what she did next. She told me she was traveling, taking time for herself. We didn't see her much, a handful of visits in three years. Then she was—gone."

  "You never had a fight or disagreement that harmed your relationship?" Julia asked.

  Susan shook her head. "Nothing. The last time we spoke she said she loved me very much."

  "When was that conversation?" Alex asked.

  "About two weeks before they told me she died."

  Alex frowned at her answer. "Didn't you ask questions? Didn't you inquire into the circumstances of her death?"

  "Alex, give her a chance to explain," Julia said quickly. Alex wasn't nearly as emotionally involved with Susan as Julia was, and she wanted him to take it easy on her grandmother.

  "I'm sorry. I don't mean to push you. I just wonder how you came to
believe Sarah was dead."

  "Henry asked all the questions. He went to Chicago, and spoke to the police. They said the fire was due to a spark near a gas can. There was an explosion. By the time the fire department got there, the town house was engulfed in flames. Sarah was the only one at home. Her roommate was actually out of the country at the time. So she escaped..." Her voice broke, and tears began to stream down her face once again.

  "It's okay. You don't have to say any more," Julia told her.

  "When Henry asked to see her... they said there was nothing left to see." Susan drew in a deep, painful breath. "We buried her ashes in the cemetery down the road. I've gone there every year on her birthday. I pray for her and I talk to her and tell her about our family, our life." She sniffed as her mouth crumpled once again. "How could she have been alive and not let me know?"

  Julia had no idea how Sarah could have let her mother suffer the way she had. For twenty-five years she'd kept her silence, allowing her mother to believe she was dead. Unless... was there another explanation? Had there been a third party involved in the deception? Had Sarah been told her parents didn't want her at the same time her parents were being told she was dead? Was that even remotely possible? There was a time discrepancy. And that time was what bothered her the most. Sarah had supposedly died when Julia was three years old, about the time that photograph was taken. But Sarah had always told Julia that her parents had disowned her when she became pregnant.

  "I just can't understand why Sarah would have hurt me that way," Susan added, dabbing at her eyes. "I thought I'd cried out all my tears, but they just keep coming."

  "I'm so sorry," Julia said, feeling helpless in the face of such terrible grief. "I shouldn't have come here and dropped these revelations on you."

  "You said I have another granddaughter, too?"

  Julia nodded. "Elizabeth. I call her Lizzie. She and I have different fathers. I don't actually know who my father is, but my mother married Gino DeMarco when I was four and a half, and nine months later Lizzie came into the world. She's twenty-two now. And she's beautiful. She looks a lot like our mother."

  "You don't look anything like Sarah," Susan said.

  Julia knew Susan didn't mean anything by her somewhat harsh words, but they still stung. "She used to say I had her nose and her long legs, but you're right. We really didn't look much alike."

  "And she told you that we disowned her?"

  "That's what she said."

  Susan shook her head in disbelief once again. After a moment, she asked, "Where do you all live?"

  "San Francisco."

  "That's so far. How did Sarah end up in San Francisco?"

  Julia could only shrug. "She never spoke of her past. She said it was too painful. And she kept her silence until the day she died."

  "How did she pass?"

  "She had breast cancer. She fought hard for two years before she lost the battle."

  Susan's eyes teared up once again. "My mother had breast cancer. They shared that, too." She paused for a long moment. "I'm glad Sarah got to be a mother, that she found love." Her voice was heavy with sadness. "I'm sorry she didn't want her father and me to be a part of her life. That I'll never understand."

  Julia looked to Alex for help. She didn't want to say any more. It seemed as if every word that came out of her mouth only brought her grandmother more pain.

  "Maybe we should go," he suggested.

  "No, don't go," Susan said suddenly. "Not yet. I have so many questions to ask. Do you have any other photos of your mother?"

  Julia nodded. "Yes, I brought several with me. I was wondering if you had any pictures of her when she was a little girl."

  "Upstairs." Susan stood up. "I'll show you everything I have, and you'll tell me about your life together. And maybe somewhere we'll find some answers."

  * * *

  It was after midnight by the time they left Susan's house and checked into the hotel near the airport. Julia was exhausted but also wired. She'd seen her mother's bedroom as well as dozens of photographs of Sarah as a little girl. She'd learned about her grandfather, grandmother, and assorted relatives. They'd shared stories and tears. Alex had been as patient as a saint through it all. She glanced at him now as they took the elevator to the third floor and walked down the hall to their adjoining rooms, wondering what he was thinking.

  "Are you going to go to sleep right away?" she asked. "I feel like talking."

  "That's all you've been doing for the last four hours." He unlocked his door and opened it. "Aren't you talked out yet?"

  "Not really. We probably bored you to death, didn't we?"

  He shrugged. "It wasn't too bad."

  "I guess I'll see you in the morning." She checked her watch. "Which is in about five hours. Good night."

  "Good night."

  She walked into her room and set her purse and a small overnight bag on the table. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she flipped on the television, but it was late and there was nothing on but infomercials. She turned off the set, knowing she should just go to bed, but her head was spinning with everything she'd learned. She smiled when she heard a knock on the connecting door. Opening it, she said, "Did you change your mind?"

  "I can't sleep, either." Alex walked past her and sat down on her bed. He stretched out his legs, resting his back against the headboard and patted the mattress next to him. "Why don't you sit down?"

  She hesitated, her instincts telling her that that could be a dangerous move. They'd been so caught up in the search, she'd been able to ignore her attraction to Alex. But now they were alone in a hotel room, and the kiss they'd shared the night before was back in her mind.

  Had that been only last night? So much had happened since then.

  "What's the matter, Julia? You look worried."

  "I'm engaged."

  "Yeah, you've mentioned that a few times."

  She sat down on the side of the bed, deliberately putting some space between them. "I should call Michael and Liz, too. They're both probably wondering where I am. And I have so much to tell Liz."

  "I thought you left messages for them."

  "I didn't say where I was, just that I'd be home tomorrow."

  "Sounds like a good message to me. Do you really want to tell them over the phone?"

  She thought about her options. With the time difference, it would be only nine o'clock in San Francisco. Still, what would she say? That she was in New York with Alex, that she was at this moment sharing a bed with him? That didn't sound like a good idea. They would be back tomorrow. It would be easier to explain everything then.

  "You're right. This information should be delivered in person. I'll talk to them both tomorrow." She didn't like his knowing smile. "What? Why are you grinning at me like that? Did I say something funny?"

  "You keep making excuses not to talk to your fiancé. Don't you ever ask yourself why that is?"

  "I've been a little busy lately. And what do you know about it anyway? Have you ever been in love? Ever been engaged, married, or shacked up with someone?"

  "Do they still call it 'shacked up'?"

  "You know what I mean. Don't be evasive."

  "Have you heard the phrase 'it's none of your business'?"

  "That doesn't apply to us. We're friends, and friends share."

  "You don't have many male friends, do you?"

  "What? Is your love life a secret?" She pulled her legs up beneath her, sitting cross-legged on the bed, so she could face him. "There must have been a serious girl at some point in your life. You're in your thirties, right?"

  "Thirty-four," he said. "There have been a few women, one serious. We lived together for about a year when I was in my twenties. She wanted more than I could give her. End of story."

  She eyed him with interest, pleased he was finally telling her something. "She wanted marriage?"

  "A house, kids, the whole deal. But I was just starting my career. I knew I wasn't ready for any of that. I thought she might wait, bu
t she didn't." His voice was dispassionate, cool, but there was something in the tightness of his expression that told Julia he wasn't as uncaring about the failed relationship as he pretended to be. "After that, I focused on work and put relationships on the back burner."

  "It sounds kind of lonely, Alex."

  "Believe me, it's not," he said, the grin back on his face.

  "I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking about relationships."

  "That's the difference between men and women. We want sex. You want a relationship. I realized a long time ago that I'm not cut out for the married life. I like to be free—just like my father."

  "But your father married your mother," she pointed out.

  "Yeah, and look how well that turned out," he said in a voice filled with sarcasm.

  "You're not your father. Maybe things would be different for you now that you're older. You're established in your career. You're successful. Maybe it's time to try another relationship."

  "Are you volunteering?"

  "No." She immediately squashed that idea. "I'm—"

  "Engaged. Yeah, I got that. You're on your way to a permanent address, what every woman wants."

  His arrogance put her back up. "How do you know what every woman wants? That's a very generalized statement."

  "That's what you want, isn't it?"

  She started to answer yes, then stopped. Is that what she wanted—a permanent address? She'd been raised to want that. But did she? Did she really?

  "It's not that difficult a question, Julia," he said dryly.

  "I was going to say yes, but the truth is I'm not sure what I want anymore. Every girl grows up thinking about marriage, a home, and babies. I know I want children someday, but not anytime soon. I have things I want to do first."

  "Like what?"

  "Travel. I want to see some of the world. I'd also like to get my radio show nationally syndicated. And there's this charity that brings music to poor children in other countries. They provide musical instruments to those who can't afford them. I run a concert in San Francisco that helps out the charity, but I'd like to do more. I believe that music brings a peace and a harmony to people, that it inspires and heals and..." She paused at his smile. "Too much information?"