From Amalia’s body language, it’s clear she’s blown away by what I’ve said. Indeed, if I blew on her, she’d tip over. She leans her hip against the island and puts her hand on her heart.
“It means the world to me to hear Reed said all of that. Thank you so much for telling me this, Georgie.”
“You’re welcome.” My heart skips a beat. It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out in a kitchen with a kind, older woman, and helped her cook a meal. The experience is causing my heart to flutter like crazy. “Reed actually referred to you as his second mother.” Am I fibbing? Did Reed say that, or did I? I can’t recall. But either way, even if I was the one who said it, Reed certainly didn’t correct me. And hedidsay he loves Amalia, and a photo of his mother and Amalia is one of the few personal shots in the house... So, I think it’s safe to say I haven’t told a lie.
“I love that sweet man so much,” Amalia says, more to herself than to me. For a moment, she looks lost in thought. But then she shakes off her reverie, sighs, and smiles. “I’m frankly quite surprised Reed said all this to you. Especially, the part about me being with his family until Mr. Rivers went to prison. Reed is an extremely private person. Especially about his father, and his childhood. I think he doesn’t like being reminded of anything unpleasant. He prefers not to think about it.”
My heart is galloping. I have a feeling, if I handle this conversation right, I’ll walk away with a goldmine of insight into parts of Reed he never shows the world. And I won’t have to pull it out of Reed to get it. “Reed actually told me a very poignant story about his father last night in the garage. A story about how Reed used to golf with his father every weekend. The point of the story was to explain to me how devastated Reed was when he realized his father had actually committed the crimes he’d been accused of. So much so, he doesn’t play golf now, because it brings up too many bad memories.”
Amalia’s jaw drops. Quickly, she looks down—and there’s no doubt she’s getting a grip on her emotions. When she looks up again, she looks pale. “I wish so badly I could have done more for Reed after his father went to prison. But there was only so much I could do.”
“Oh, of course, Amalia. I’m sure Reed knows that. From what hesaid, you’ve been a very calming, nurturing presence for him his whole life.”
Again, she looks shocked. “Wow. Reed reallyhasshared a lot with you about his life, hasn’t he?”
“Well, I have been assigned to write an in-depth article about him. But even more than that, we’ve really clicked, maybe because I’ve shared things about my life with him, too. I told him about my mother, who died when I was nine, and that’s something I never, ever talk about with anyone. The same as Reed, I’m a person who prefers not to talk too much about things that make me sad.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry about your mother.”
“Thank you. I think me opening up about that made Reed feel comfortable to do the same with me.”
“Well, that makes a lot of sense. You and Reed have a shared experience. I mean, it’s not the exact same thing, but both of you did lose your mothers at the exact same age.”
I’m stumped. Reed lost his mother at nine? “Right,” I say, like I know exactly what Amalia is talking about... even though, in truth, I haven’t a clue. If Reed lost his mother at age nine, then who’s the mother happily doing yoga and painting in Scarsdale with her boyfriend, Lee? Also, if Reed lost his mother at nine, why on earth didn’t he mention that fact to me after I told him aboutmymother? I mean, not last night, when I was screaming at him like a freaking maniac. But this morning, during our amazing, intimate conversation in the gym, when we were both so open and apologetic and kind?
I’m thoroughly confused.
Did Reed’s biological mother die when he was nine, and then his Dad somehow remarried before being shipped off to prison, and the woman in Scarsdale is actually hisstepmother—a woman Reed always thinks of as his mother? That could be it. But, damn, if that’s the case, Reed’s father got married after the death of his wife awfully fast. As quickly as my own father did. Which, again, I would have expected Reed to mention when I was telling him about my father and Paula.
My head teeming with thoughts, I chop some carrots for a long moment, and finally cast out my fishing rod. “I’m so proud of Reed for all he’s accomplished in his life,” I say, “especially after everything he went through as a child.”
“Oh, yes. I’m enormously proud of him for that, too. It breaks my heart, just thinking about everything he went through. But he’s come out the other side and made all his dreams come true, while still retaining his kind heart. That’s the best thing of all, if you ask me—that he’s as kind and generous and sweet as ever, despite all his success.”
Okay, who the fuck is Amalia talking about? I mean, yes, Reed has been enormously generous and sweet with me, but Amalia is making him out to be a saint.
“He really is so generous and sweet,” I agree. “I mean, he didn’t simply let Henn throw his wedding here. He paid for everything.”
“Oh, I know. But that’s Reed. If he cares about you, he’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy.”
“So I’m discovering. You know what I think? Reed is terribly misunderstood by people who don’t know him well.”
She stops what she’s doing on a dime. “Oh my gosh, yes, he is! I’m so glad you understand that about him, Georgina, so you can show the world therealReed in your article. So many people don’t see his heart. They think he’s only a shrewd businessman. But he’s so much more than that.”
“That’s what I like about Reed most. That he’s got so many layers.”
Amalia nods enthusiastically.
And we both fall silent for a moment.
Finally, Amalia says, “To be honest, it shattered me to watch poor Reed’s world come crashing down the way it did.”
I continue chopping methodically, even though my mind is reeling. Is that a reference to Reed’s father’s arrest and conviction?Or a reference to whatever happened to Reed’s mother when he was nine? “Yeah, from what Reed told me,” I say, “it seems like everything was extremely difficult for him.” What “everything” am I talking about? Honestly, I have no idea.
“I just felt so powerless to do anything to help him,” Amalia laments. “And then his father was arrested, only a few short years later, and I thought, ‘Oh my gosh. How much can that poor boy take?’”
“You did everything you could,” I say vaguely, even though I still don’t have a clue what we’re talking about. “Reed knows that.”
Amalia exhales deeply and stops what she’s doing at the stove, so I stop chopping and give her my undivided attention.
