“I’ll call you, and we can arrange to spend some time together before I leave.”
Edwina smiled, nodding. “When are you leaving?”
Cherie’s smile matched hers. “Not until the end of the year. The current owners are building a house in Hawaii; they project that we can close on the sale of their current property around mid-December.”
Cherie hugged Edwina, then left the diner. She knew she’d surprised the older woman when suggesting they get together. Although they lived in the same state, it wasn’t often that they would see each other in person. Recently, phone calls and text messages had become the norm. She would send Edwina gifts for Mother’s Day, her birthday, and Christmas, but made up every excuse she could not to visit her.
There had been a time when she’d refused to take her mother’s calls because Edwina only contacted her whenever she’d needed money. It wasn’t until she’d secured the job waiting tables at the diner that Cherie realized Edwina was serious about becoming gainfully employed; she had even hinted about enrolling in college. Cherie wasn’t certain as to what Edwina wanted to study, but just talking about it was a positive step in the right direction for her fifty-two-year-old mother.
As she returned to the parking lot to drive home, Cherie realized she’d turned another corner. She’d finally made peace with Edwina, and she’d been the one to extend the olive branch when she’d invited her mother to come and visit her in North Carolina.
If circumstances were different for Cherie, she would’ve asked Edwina if she was willing to relocate to Coates Island with her. And if need be, she would withdraw funds she’d put aside for her retirement and purchase a condo for Edwina.
However, what Cherie did not want to do was put undue pressure on Edwina.
And if Cherie were truly honest with herself, she would’ve admitted that Edwina was the better woman, despite her circumstances, because she’d elected to raise her children the best she could, while Cherie had agreed to give up her child for money to embrace the lifestyle that had always evaded her.
What Cherie did not intend to do was sink into a morass of self-pity again because she had no one to blame but herself. What she had to do was look ahead and plan a future that would give her what she needed to achieve fulfillment.
December 20
It’s been a while since I’ve recorded anything, but today is special. I am leaving Connecticut—this time for good. I never would’ve thought or imagined I would leave everything familiar to embark on a journey of renewal. I know my mother thinks that I’m running away, and in a way I am. What she doesn’t realize is that I must leave or spend the rest of my life pining for something I could never have, and nothing, and that includes a man, is worth that. I don’t want to grow old and angry, which I have become over the years, when it would have been easier to accept the reality that I am who I am, and that Weylin is who he is. I’ll be closing on my new home in a couple of days, and that day will be like every festive holiday rolled into one.
Cherie closed the journal, capped the pen, and slipped both into her tote. The weeks and months had passed quickly for her once she’d gone through her closets and packed up what she wanted and needed, while donating items she hadn’t worn in years to her favorite charity. It had been the first week in December when she’d received a call from the realtor that a closing date had been set for the twenty-first. Three weeks had given her enough time to close on the condo with a buyer who was willing to wait until she’d vacated the unit. She had contracted with a moving company to ship the contents of the condo to a storage facility in Shelby, North Carolina, and then spent a week sleeping on an air mattress and eating out or ordering in.
She had also kept her promise to hang out with Edwina. They’d taken the Metro-North railroad into Grand Central Station to shop and sightsee in New York City.
Cherie had shared things with her mother that were a long time coming. Her attitude had become “better late than never”; she realized that if she weren’t relocating, she would never have the memories of enjoying their time together.
She looked around the empty apartment for the last time. She’d stored the mattress and several changes of clothes in the cargo area of the SUV for the nonstop drive to Wilmington, North Carolina, where she planned to spend the night before leaving for Coates Island the following morning. Retrieving her cell phone, she tapped Kayana’s name for a text message:
Cherie: I will close on the house on the 21st. Hopefully, I will get to see you before you shut down for the Christmas holiday.
She did not have to wait for Kayana’s response.
Kayana: We are not closing until the 23rd. Can’t wait to see you. Once we return, Leah and I will plan a special dinner to welcome our book club sister back—this time for good.
Cherie eyelids fluttered as she blinked back tears. She never counted as friends the girls at the private prep school or the ones she’d interacted with at Yale. It was the same with some of her former coworkers. Once they’d discovered where she lived, some were bold enough to question how she was able to live in the gated development on her salary. Rather than tell them off, Cherie decided not responding was more profound. It was enough to leave them guessing . . . and to leave her alone.
It had taken two forty-something women to make her aware of who she was and could be. She thought of them as friends and older sisters who did not bite their tongues when dishing out advice and opinions, and that was more than enough for Cherie to seriously give them some thought.
Cherie: Hugs and kisses.
Kayana: Same to you.
She slipped the phone into her crossbody bag, picked up the tote, and with one last glance at the empty space, she walked out, closing the door behind her. And when she started up her car and drove out of the development for the last time, it was without sadness or regret. It had taken days, weeks, and then months after leaving Coates Island this past summer for her to conclude there was nothing keeping her in Connecticut.
She did not have a mortgage on the condo, and she was only responsible for maintenance fees that were a fraction of what she would’ve paid for a one-bedroom rental apartment in a middle-income neighborhood. Then she had the money she’d received for selling her son. The Campbells were to Connecticut real estate as Bill Gates was to Microsoft, and knowing this, Cherie had established the terms for her giving Weylin an heir, though it had taken a while for her to come to the realization that she’d been nothing more than the surrogate for a childless couple.
Cherie did not know if Weylin had told his wife that he’d been carrying on an affair with another woman for more than a decade, but apparently that hadn’t mattered, as Weylin and Michelle Campbell allowed the press into their home for the first time as parents. It had been the first and last time the Campbells had allowed photographs of their son, and for that, Cherie was grateful.
She tuned the Honda’s satellite radio to a station featuring classic dance selections from Studio 54. The upbeat tunes were the perfect thing to take her mind off what she’d left behind, while she attempted to concentrate on what was to come.
Chapter 3
Cherie checked into the boutique hotel in Wilmington, ordered room service, then took a quick shower before it arrived. She’d stopped only once during the drive to refuel, order strong black coffee to remain alert, and take a bathroom break before getting behind the wheel again to make it to North Carolina before eight. One of her pet peeves was driving at night when she was unfamiliar with the road.
The shower was what she needed to offset her fatigue; she patted the moisture from her body with a thick terrycloth towel before applying a lightly scented body lotion and slipping into a pair of cotton pajamas. She picked up the television remote and turned it on at the same time that there came a knock on the door and a male voice announced room service.
