The Mother's Promise(82)

Alice nodded. “I know what you mean.”





64

When George appeared in the kitchen, Sonja had his coffee ready.

“Here you go,” she said, handing him a coffee.

“Thank you,” George said.

It was almost as if they were a normal couple.

Ever since speaking with Alice, Sonja had thought a lot about leaving George. She’d even packed a bag of clothes and money and put it in the trunk of her car.

But George had been in a good mood these last few weeks. Only last night, he’d come home talking about Christmas. “Are we going to get a real tree this year?” he’d asked. “Stockings by the fire, that sort of thing?” Sonja didn’t know what to say. Usually she put up a few decorations—a wreath on the door, a small artificial tree in the front window—but it hardly seemed worth going all-out on decorations for just the two of them.

“Sure,” she’d said eventually.

It made Sonja wonder. Maybe retirement was starting to agree with him? Maybe he was finally starting to relax? She’d heard about it happening. Men who were harsh, cutthroat business people all their lives, suddenly becoming old softies in their golden years. Maybe that was happening to George? If so, after all the hard yards she’d put in, there was no point leaving just as things were looking up.

“Got much on today?” George asked her.

“I’m going to see Alice Stanhope,” Sonja said. “She’s out of the hospital but doesn’t have much support. I’m going to see if I can convince her to take Meals on Wheels.”

George was looking at her with an expression that was hard to read. “Alice Stanhope?”

“My client,” she said. “Ovarian cancer. She’s not doing well.”

George put down his coffee. He blinked, as though he’d received startling news, instead of a status report on her client. “Alice Stanhope?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Sonja said, confused. “Alice Stanhope. Why? Do you know her?”

George ignored the question. “You said Alice … isn’t doing well?”

“Not well at all. She’s dying.”

He stared off, his brow puckered. Sonja looked at him, wondering what on earth was going on in his mind.

George took another sip of his coffee, then put it down. He inhaled, steepling his fingers against his lips. “Sonja,” he said. “I have to tell you something.”





65

Kate wondered if it was ominous that she’d never shown anyone the box she kept in the top of her closet. It was, she thought, the aspirational area of her wardrobe. The clothes for holidays and vacations. Her wedding dress, wrapped in tissue. Some of her mother’s jewelry. And the box.

As she got it down, she thought about yesterday evening. When David had brought up the idea of Zoe coming to live with them with Scarlett and Jake, Kate had been floored by their responses. Jake had listened carefully when they’d explained the situation, and then said, “Wow, she has no one? Well, yeah. Of course we should help her.” Scarlett had been more inquisitive. “Where’s her dad?” she asked. “What about her grandparents? Her friends? Her neighbors?” She’d wanted specifics—how it would work, would they adopt her, would they be sisters? Many of the questions Kate and David didn’t have answers for, but they’d worked through them, one at a time. Finally she’d said, “Well, I’m cool with it, if you are.”

After the kids went to bed, Kate and David stayed up talking until 3 A.M. when they finally decided that they would keep Zoe. They also decided to find a relationship counselor to help them deal with their unresolved emotions around their fertility issues. It wouldn’t be resolved overnight, but they were both committed to fixing it.

She opened the box, and reached for the tiny white sleep suit—the one item she’d allowed herself to buy when she’d found out she was pregnant for the first time. Also in the box were her first positive pregnancy test and the letter she’d written to her baby that day. She’d planned to show the letter to her child, maybe when he or she was five, maybe on his or her eighteenth birthday or wedding day. When it felt right.

Now, she opened it out.

Dear You,

All my life I have dreamed about being your mother and today, we found out that you are coming into our lives. I want you to know that I grew up without a mother, so I understand the significance of the role. I want you to know that I may not always be perfect, but I will always try my best. Most of all, I want you to know … you will be loved. You are going to have a protective big brother, an adoring sister, and a doting father. Most of all, you will have a mother who will move Heaven and Earth for you. I promise. You will always be safe. You are the final piece of our puzzle.



All my love.

Mom

Kate read it twice, noticing but not bothering to wipe away the tears on her cheek. Then she stuffed everything back into the box and took it downstairs. And, because she had the house to herself and because she was feeling indulgent, she lit a fire. She planned to toss in the whole thing and watch it burn until nothing was left, but at the last minute, she tucked the letter into her pocket. It occurred to Kate that she might have someone to give it to after all.





66