To me, Mr. Henderson asks, “Did you know about their affair?”
I shake my head, dumbfounded. “No.”
He exhales, pursing his lips. “As I thought.”
Confused and with all eyes on me I slide off the rubber band and open the top envelope to find a letter with a man’s handwriting: My love, Stop sending back my letters. Stunned, but still not believing it’s for my mother–there is no name, it could be to anyone!–I unfold the next to find my mom’s gentle, cursive handwriting staring back at me. My hand flies up on a gasp to my lips. My mother died of cancer right after I turned eighteen. To see the smooth curves of her l’s and g’s absolutely ruins me. It’s like one last chance to hear her voice…
“This is her handwriting.” I caress the paper with my thumb. The room is as still as glass as a tear falls down my cheek. I’m starting to understand what’s going on, but I can’t believe it. But yes, I see Sean and Jack’s faces with new eyes, can see similarities, feel the telltale heart-pounding of a truth I don’t want to face beating louder by the second. To think my mother would have held something like this from me; it’s too horrible to believe. And yet… these letters in my hand and this money that’s been left to me… from a man I’ve never met. There can be only one reason.
An ache throbs in my chest. Trying to hold onto a shred of forgiveness for my mother, I ask in a voice no louder than a whisper, “But I don’t understand. Did he want to leave me money because he loved her?”
Jack explodes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You can’t be that naïve! It’s staring you in the face. Why do you think he left you the money, jackass?” He stops himself and jumps out of his chair to pace it off by the dusty old books. He jerks a hand to me. “Tell her!”
“Jack, calm down,” Sean warns him.
“CALM DOWN? Sean, there’s nothing to be calm about!”
Mr. Henderson waits until they’re quiet. “Ms. Calliwell…”
Lowering the letters to my lap, with a sinking feeling that life is never going to be the same again, I ask, “Yes?”
Mr. Henderson says calmly, “Maxwell Stone was your father.”
I shake my head and close my eyes. “Shit.”
Chapter Five
SEAN
A ll the blood leaves Rue’s face. She’s horrified, not elated, and I can’t help but be grateful for that. The letters are what have Jack and I surprised. We didn’t know about them. I’m guessing yesterday when Tom told us and our mother the news, he knew if she was aware of their existence, she would have grabbed and destroyed them.
“FIFTY MILLION!???” Mom had yelled. Jack and I just stared at Henderson, probably with the same expression Rue has now. “You have got to be joking!”
“I’m afraid I’m not. I know this must come as a shock…”
“Tom, that’s the understatement of the fucking year.”
“…but the money won’t come out of your known equity. Maxwell kept this money hidden away from the other assets. It won’t make a dent with what you all have.”
All three of us stared at him, processing this. Then Mom said, “You’re telling me that not only did he sleep with one of our servants, but he kept a secret stash of money aside for his bastard daughter, too? How long was this going on under my nose.” She waved her hand around. “The affair, not the money.”
“The years aren’t clear, but when it ended, is. It was around…”
Impatiently, again she interrupted him, “Twenty one years and nine months. I’m not an idiot.”
Jack muttered, “Idiot, no. Blind, yes.”
Mom cut her eyes to him and spat, “Shut up, Jack!”
I couldn’t blame him for the jab, but I wanted answers. “She was the maid?”
“I don’t know. What was the whore’s name?” Mom asked.
Mr. Henderson answered gravely, the task he’d been given not an easy one, “Olivia Calliwell.”
Mom sat back in her chair like she’d been punched into it. Her answer to me sliced the heavy air around us like a slow knife, “She was your nanny.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled, sinking under the concept. The nanny slept with our dad, cared for us, and then slept with our dad again. Wow. “Did you know she got pregnant? I mean, I guess you didn’t know about the affair, but…”
Jack hotly interjected, “But did you at least see her getting fatter by the second, is what’s he’s asking.”
Mom shook her short, silver hair, unscrewed another cap and poured several small white pills into the palm of her perfectly manicured hand. “No. She must have left right after she found out. I’m sure he didn’t love her. She probably tried to blackmail him and then when he didn’t cave, he got rid of her. It’s clear he got rid of her. Olivia Calliwell. And to think, I treated her like a sister!”
Jack and I shared a look at that. We knew how mother treated the help and there was nothing familial about it. If she treated our nanny like a sister, I’d eat a turd right here and right now. “So we must have been two and three years old then.”
Jack stood up and walked to the window behind Henderson’s chair as Mom swallowed the pills. “Well, this Olivia Calliwell is going to be happy her blackmail finally paid off.”
Mr. Henderson solemnly countered, “She passed away. Three years ago.”
Jack paused and continued on the same track, “Well, Rue then. Rue Calliwell is about to win the fucking lottery and I can just picture it. She’s going to be a trashy skank we’ll have to have over for Christmas.”
“The hell we will!” Mom cried out in disgust. “The hell we will,” she repeated and leaned back in the chair to let the sweet fog descend upon her from the inside out.
Chapter Six
SEAN
Rue is sitting in that same chair looking helpless and very un-skanky. She’s a little mousy, if anything. She’s got light brown hair that blends in with her light brown eyes. She’s pretty, but doesn’t know how to show it. She’d look good as a redhead, if you asked me. If I had my way, I’d get her to a salon and give her a makeover, shed some sunlight on her entire presentation. But I would never say that, and especially not with those words. If I did, Jack might guess the truth about me. Dad wasn’t the only one in this family with secrets, and as I sit here looking at our half-sister, I can’t help but feel closer to Dad for it. It’s painful living a double life. And here I thought I was the only one. Dad couldn’t come out about loving the help, and I can’t come out about loving my same sex. I don’t feel safe to be who I am, not with our public life. Who wants to live a life of ridicule from strangers, the press, and maybe even my family. Twitter would have a field day. I can’t even think about it, so I break the silence. “Rue. Who did you think your father was?”
She looks at the letters lying in her lap and whispers from miles away, “Mom said he died in Desert Storm. I thought he was a soldier.”
“Well, that would have been more respectful,” Jack mutters. “Except that it happened before you were even born.
Irritated, I snap, “Jack, lay off her. And we didn’t know about the letters. Maybe he loved her.”
“Don’t say it!”
“What did you read, Rue? Did he?”
Jack doesn’t wait for an answer. He yanks them from her hands. “Give me those.” He runs to the other side of the room, but she leaps out of her chair and chases him. He holds them out of her reach and like a wild cat, she climbs up his body as he yells at her to get off him. She launches her hand up like a claw and snatches them back from him, pushing him back with force as she jumps off, clutching them to her chest. “No!” They’re both panting and staring at each other like neither can believe that just happened.
Henderson and I are standing in front of our chairs, risen in disbelief by the frenzied spectacle. We exchange a look.
Rue brushes her hair away from her face and says, “I’m sorry, but these were meant for me.”
Henderson clears his throat. “Okay. Okay. Let’s all sit down. This is a difficult and unusual situa
tion. There are bound to be arguments and assumptions, but if you can take my considerable age as an indication of what I’ve learned, and thereby take my advice, I’d like to impart that family is important.” We all settle back into our chairs, but Jack’s still grumpy. He doesn’t want to listen to advice. He never has. “You’ve both lost a parent, and Rue has now lost, in essence, three. Perhaps you can go easy on one another.”
We all wait as she looks up. Her lips separate slowly and she whispers something I never thought I’d ever hear: “I don’t want the money. I couldn’t possibly take it. It’s not mine. It belongs to them.”
I shift in my seat. “You don’t?”
She looks at me with a small shake of her head. “No. What am I going to do with all that money? I would feel awful.”
“Of course she wants the money,” Jack mutters, angrily. “She’s playing you! Sean, help me out here. Why am I the fucking bad guy? We’re talking fifty million dollars. Who the fuck turns that down. Open your eyes!”
My eyes are open, because now with the money taken out of the picture, I’m suddenly aware of the humanity behind all of this. That what Tom said, is true. She’s just had her entire world turned upside down. The father she thought she had doesn’t exist. The father she never got to know is dead, but obviously cared about her. She now has us judging the fuck out of her. And of course then there’s the mom who lied to her, and who isn’t around to answer any questions.
We need to give her some space. It’s the right thing to do.
I grab the thick arms of the leather-bound chair and rise up. She flinches like she thinks I might blow up or hit her or something. That was Jack’s doing, and as usual, I have to undo it. Holding up my hands like I’m unarmed, I say in my most reassuring voice, “Whoa. It’s okay. Look. This is a hideous situation. You probably have a lot of questions and you don’t need us hovering over you while you ask them. We’ll be outside.”
Jack growls, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I give him a look. “Jack, think about it. She’s seen her father…”
“Our father!” he snaps.
“On the news her entire life, and now that she knows who he is, she can’t get to know him for real.”
“Like that’s a big loss,” Jack grumbles.
I exhale, getting nowhere. “Rue, I want to speak for both of us when I say it’s a credit to you that you don’t want to keep the money. You’re a bigger person than I. Jack...let’s go. We’ll be in the reception area.”
I rarely put my foot down like I’m doing now. Begrudgingly, he stands and follows me, but before we make it to the door, Rue stands up, adjusting the hem of her dress quickly. “No! This is about you, too. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to find out what you did. Please stay.” She looks at Henderson and says with determination. “I don’t want the money! I’m doing fine without it.”
“Oh please!” Jack explodes. “Nobody turns down fifty million bucks when they work at fucking Ralphs! What are you going to do, stay there hoping to make it to manager so you can stop living in a shoebox?!”
“Jack. Go easy…” He cuts me off.
“What!!! I mean, come on! Don’t you see the act she’s playing? So sweet and so good and soooooooooo bullshit. Sean, wake the fuck up. Stop being the hero. What about being on our team? Mine and mom’s? You just met this girl! Why are you defending her? How can you possibly believe she would turn down the golden ticket?”
Rue is staring at Jack like she just realized she hates him. She takes a step toward him with her finger pointed up. “Now look, you spoiled jerk. Not everyone believes the world revolves around money! And you can knock my job, but I’ve got dreams just like everyone else. Why do you think I work graveyard? I work it so I can audition and train during the day! Do you think it’s easy to do that? It’s hard work! Something I bet you know nothing about! And here I was feeling sorry for you for finding out your father was a cheater and did this behind your back. You know what I’m sorry for now? That my mother had to quit raising you, because had she stayed, you would’ve turned out a nicer person!”
A chocked laugh escapes me. Jack glares at her, and without another word, storms out. She hit home. Henderson is the only one seated. I look to him, not surprised to find him sporting a small, satisfied smile. “Well now. I bet he doesn’t get that kind of set down very often.”
Rue’s still locked on the door that seems to be vibrating from when he slammed it. “God! What a jerk!” She plops back in the chair and mutters to herself, “He deserved a slap is what he deserved.” Picking up the letters from where they fell, she runs her thumb across them for comfort. “My mom would’ve been good for him,” she whispers.
She must have loved her mother very much. I love mine, but not like this. We were raised by one nanny after another, and my mom was barely around. She said she loved us and told anyone who’d listen, They’re the best thing I’ve ever done, but she accepted every chance to get away from us she could. Every invitation. Every vacation getaway. Always leaving us behind, or cared for by a virtual stranger who often envied us and wasn’t nice.
I step away from the desk and bow my head out of respect. “I’m going to go, Rue. You must have questions for Henderson. We’ll wait for you outside. I’d like to ask you… never mind. It can wait.”
Without looking up, she gives a small, helpless nod. Her bravada has melted, and now sits a girl who is melting my heart. I believe her that she doesn’t want Dad’s money. I believe her that she feels badly for all of this. And I have a strong, growing desire to protect her from Jack.
I walk to the door, quietly open it, glancing back before I leave. I have to admit it; I’ve fallen in love with the girl. Who knew I wanted a sister?
Chapter Seven
RUE
I stare at the precious letters in my hands. I’ve already figured out that she never accepted his money. I’m guessing since he left me this inheritance, he wanted to support her at one time, too, and she must have turned him down. Now I understand why she went to work looking so plain, when in reality, she was beautiful. At least to me she was. But when she’d go to work as a nanny, she always tied her hair in an unattractive way with too many barrettes, and wore loose fitting clothes whose colors washed her out. I used to say, Why don’t you put on some lipstick or something, Mom? And she’d always reply, I feel better this way, Rue. Trust me. I look fine. She must have done that so she never attracted an unfaithful husband again. But I’ve always wondered if hiding herself the way she did, didn’t give her the cancer. But now I have to wonder, maybe it was sadness at loving Maxwell Stone that took her away from me when she was so young. I’ll never know…
“I want to go home and read these letters. That’s all I want to do,” I say, under my breath. Looking up into Mr. Henderson gravely curious eyes, I tell him, “It’s obvious my mother never took his money. Why should I?”
He purses his lips and considers this. “That’s a good question. One I didn’t expect to ever hear in my lifetime, but a good question, nonetheless. The thing is, Ms. Calliwell, you’re right about your mother turning it down. Max told me he’d tried very hard to give it to her. She threatened to never speak to him again if he did, and that’s what staid his hand.”
I blink at this. “You mean they spoke after I was born?” A lump of pain is in my throat, so sharp it has edges. My stomach turns over and I moan, “Did they continue the affair? Please tell me.”
The old man tilts his head with compassionate patience. “She sometimes took his calls, but they never saw each other in person again. He would search her out, and watch her from afar, but he was sure she never knew. If she did, is unclear.”
“He stalked her?” I’m picturing handsome Maxwell Stone in his car watching my mom go into the bank, the post office, or taking me to the park. I can’t get my mind around it! It’s just too bizarre and awful. “He must have loved her.”
Mr. Henderson pauses before he nods. “I’m glad the boys are gone. Can
I trust you to keep what I say next, between us?”
“Of course!”
He regards me for a couple seconds, and then says on a long sigh, “I’ve known this family my whole life. My father used to be their grandfather’s lawyer. I took over and… oh, well, you don’t care about an old man’s ravings. What you care about is the truth. I can see that. So if you’ll allow me, I’ll tell you on the one condition you don’t tell Jack or Sean. Do I have your word?”
I nod, clutching the letters tightly. “Yes. Yes! I promise.”
He licks his lips, the raisin-like skin shifting around them as he considers how to say what he’s about to. He glances to his desk and moves two pens into a container, one at a time. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to ever think your mother was any of the things the press will surely call her. Maxwell pursued her. He told me about it all when I tried to convince him that his will would cause a lot of pain, and not just for you. The whole family. But he looked into my eyes–and mind you, Max Stone was not a gentle soul. He was shrewd. Romantic is something I never would have called him. But he looked into my eyes and said, I’ve only ever loved one woman. And she had my child. I’m not allowed to see that child, nor the woman who has my heart, Tom. Do you understand I must do something for the girl?” Mr. Henderson stares at me as I take this in, a tear falling down my cheek again. “I asked him why didn’t he divorce his wife if he loved Olivia so much. He shook his head and said that he hadn’t been brave enough. He knew the press would tear them all apart. He said–and it broke my aging heart to hear it–I was a coward. And I’ve paid for that mistake with my soul.”
I wipe my cheek, looking again at the letters. What kind of answers do these thin, worn envelopes conceal? “He wanted to see me?”
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