“I don’t see why you can’t simply invite someone to dinner,” Mum said. “What about Lady Erin? She’s well-born, educated, connected with charities. You’ve known her most of your life.”
“Do not start, Mum. I’ll not cull through a list of potential candidates. Besides, if I ask any lass to dinner, the media will have us engaged and down the aisle by week’s end. No thanks.”
Even worse, any consideration of moving on felt like a betrayal.Yet… Lately, when he was alone, reading, or sipping a good port before bed, acceptance whispered through him. Flash rays of sunshine broke through his clouds, and hope became a subtle prospect.
He’d not confess it here, but last month, he’d attended a dinner party at his mate Larrabee’s place. He’d been seated next to Sydney Templeton, a distant acquaintance, and to his surprise, they talked for two hours, laughing, going on about anything and everything. He touched her arm. She touched his knee.
Afterwards, when he’d gone home and crawled into bed, he realized he’d not thought of Holland once, and the icy dread of forgetting her froze every ounce of the evening’s joy.
Holland must be remembered. She must.
“Have you spoken to her parents?” Mum said as if reading his private thoughts.
“Not really. We’ve given each other space. We’ve not connected since we donated her clothes six months ago.”
It was as if they wanted to forget he’d been a part of their family. He understood. He reminded them of their loss.
“Very well. There is one more item on my agenda. A special request. Please do not refuse me.”
“I reserve the right, but what is it?”
“Will you go to Tennessee and make acquaintance with Scottie?”
He laughed. Truly. “You want me to meet with your long-lost daughter? I’m sorry, Mum, but Scottie O’Shay is your concern, not mine.”
“She’s your sister.”
“Half sister but your full-blood daughter.” John rose for the tea trolley. The puffs under the glass called to him. A moment like this needed a pastry. “Why is this my mission and not yours?”
“I’m the woman who abandoned her. Who she believed was dead.”
“I’m the son of that woman.” He returned to his chair with a plate of puffs, offering one to Mum who refused. “If you want a connection with Scottie O’Shay, invite her here. Or go there. Surely Dad would love a trip to America. Or Rachel. Even better, Aunt Arabella. Promise a shopping trip in Manhattan and she’d spend a day or two in small-town Hearts Bend, Tennessee.”
“Or, you could go, spend time with Buck and JoJo. They’ve asked you over several times and you’ve yet to respond. Another delay and they might be offended.”
“I hardly doubt— Mum, please tell me you didn’t ring Buck.” When John met the country music star on his European tour two years ago, their friendship was instant.
The entire Blue family loved Buck Mathews and his wife, JoJo. Mum invited them to Perrigwynn for New Year’s last year. They attended John’s wedding and met up with him and Holland on the end of their Riviera honeymoon. And last year, Buck left his world tour to attend her funeral.
“He’s home for the summer, darling. You could go for a month. You could golf, fish, read, rest. I know from Briggs you’ve made no summer holiday plans.”
“I don’t care about golfing or fishing. I don’t want to rest.” Doing nothing made him remember what he wanted to forget. “Buck and JoJo hold Holland’s memories for me. Past and future. We talked about having children at the same time, spending holidays and vacations together.”
Though they had yet to announce a Mathews offspring.
“You cannot abandon their friendship,” Mum said with her kind wisdom. “Build new memories with Buck and Jo. When you find love again, you will bring her in to your relationships. You can still have children at the same time, arrange holidays together. In the meantime, help me bring healing to our family.” Mum’s eyes glistened. “To me, to Scottie.”
John paced around the chairs, irritated that Mum’s plea touched him. Even moved him enough to elicit a yes.
“Tell me again why you can’t go?”
Mum rose up and moved to the window, gazing out over the palace grounds, over the lower tip of her kingdom. On the edge of the horizon were the bluish-green waters of the Port Fressa Bay and the spiral steeples of the ancient cathedrals. The ones that created the phenomenon, the Heart of God.
“You said you can’t imagine your future? I can’t imagine facing Scottie. I’ve run through every scenario a thousand times. Where we’d meet, what we would say. And it all ends in shambles with me sounding like a selfish shrew and Scottie cursing me, slamming the door on her way out.”
“Give her some credit, Mum. She’s an adult. She understands. You gave her to her father to raise because you had no choice. I’d think she’d be more miffed at her dad and grandparents for claiming you were dead.”
“Yet they were the ones who stayed, raised her, loved her. I simply walked away. Let Trent raise her alone. I supported the lie that I was dead.” Mum’s tears were evident when she turned from the window. “Please, go. Talk to her. Get a feel for whatshewants. Is she interested at all in meeting me? In being a part of our family?”
