The ache in Erica’s chest grew more intense. “That’s right.”
The three of them absorbed the implications of that.
“Well—” Claudia swallowed. “I mean, she seems nice. Don’t you think so, Anna? Warm and caring? Also, she has great taste in boots. And a good eye for interior design if the inn is anything to go by.”
“Yes.” Anna pressed her hand to her chest. Her eyes were shining. “Erica, you do realize what this means? You have family. Actual family. And Hattie has a daughter, which means you’re an aunt.”
“Stop it. You know that word freaks me out.”
“I know. You refused to let my kids call you Aunt Erica.”
Erica tried not to recoil.“Too heavy. Too much responsibility.”
“Being an aunt freaks me out, too. Mostly because it’s expensive,” Claudia warned. “I told my sister to stop at two, but did she listen? No. Start saving now.”
“Butfamily.” Anna emphasized the word and Erica sighed.
“Only in your world isfamilythe equivalent of an all-weather down duvet ready to protect you from everything. Hattie and I are not family, Anna. We’re strangers.”
“But not for long. You’re going to fix that. When are you planning to tell her? Do you want us to be there when you do it? How can we support you?”
Erica rubbed her hand over her chest. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this stressed. “I’m not planning to tell her.”
There was a shocked silence.
“Wait—you’re not planning to tell her at all?” Claudia enunciated the words carefully. “Not ever?”
“That’s right.” Erica turned back to the window. Her legs were shaky and she felt a little sick.
“But if you’re not going to tell her,” Anna said slowly, “why did you come here?”
It was a reasonable question and one she’d been asking herself constantly. “Because I only now this minute made that decision. Before arriving here, I hadn’t made up my mind what I was going to do. I was just doing the research. I read about her in the report. I read that she was widowed, and on her own with a child, and I thought about how she might be struggling, the way my mother struggled. And I thought I’d come here and check things out, see if maybe I could—” She stopped. Could what, exactly? Saying it aloud made her realize how ridiculous the whole situation was.“I thought maybe she needed help, but honestly it was a crazy idea. What sort of help would I be? What exactly would I say?Hi, you don’t know me—you probably don’t even know of my existence—but I wanted to check you’re okay. Hattie is clearly okay. She has a whole community looking out for her, including the Christmas tree guy, and even if she wasn’t okay, what am I going to do about it? I don’t know anything about kids. I don’t know anything about running an inn, particularly a country inn. I’m a city person. And honestly, she’d probably be less okay if she found out about me. It’s probably best if I just slink back into the shadows and stay as my father’s dirty little secret.”
Claudia frowned. “You don’t think she knows?”
“She doesn’t know. Why would she know? It was forty years ago. My father had a different life then. He clearly reinvented himself, very successfully, it seems.” The more she thought about it, the more she could see she’d made a big mistake. Some things were best left alone, and this was one of them. “I shouldn’t have come here. I think you’re right about leaving, but I don’t have the energy to go anywhere right now. We’ll stay one night, then check out tomorrow and go to Boston as you suggested. We’ll think of an excuse and let Hattie keep the money. I’ll pay for the next place, and I’m really sorry I’ve ruined our vacation.” And she felt terrible about that because she knew how important this week was to them all.
“You haven’t ruined anything,” Anna said. “And if you want to leave, then of course we’ll do that.”
She felt a rush of love for her friends. “Thank you. You probably think I made a bad decision coming here.”
“No.” Anna shook her head. “I think coming here was absolutely the right thing to do.Also, it’s so typical of you to want to check on Hattie even though you don’t know her and the whole thing is painful. It’s caring.”
Erica had a feeling that leaving without telling Hattie who she was would be more caring.
“What I keep wondering,” Claudia said, “is why your mother kept that card? If she didn’t intend to share it with you, which she obviously didn’t, why keep it?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question. I don’t know the answer.”
Anna was watching her. “At least if we stay tonight that will give you some time to reflect and be sure of your decision.”
“I’m already sure.” The more she thought about it, the more confident she was that she was making the right decision. “To Hattie, I don’t exist. And it’s better if it stays that way.”
“She doesn’t remember her mother, and she lost her father years ago, then her husband.” Anna’s voice was soft. “She might be pleased to discover she has family.”
“I don’t think so, but that’s because you and I are different. You see family as this wonderful positive force.” Erica paced to the fireplace and stared at the flames. “Sometimes it isn’t that simple.”
“You are her family.” Claudia was logical. “Whether you tell her or not doesn’t change that.”
