“How could you say that?” Kara grimaced.
“Ihaveto protect myself and Daisy because if I don’t, no one will.”
“You have me,” Kara said with a hitched breath.
“Kara, did you know that your mother kicked me out when I found out I was pregnant?”
“What?” Kara’s face went slack. “No, she didn’t. She said you wanted to go live with Lil after the summer.”
“No, she told me to never come back. She said she would pack my stuff and send it. That being unwed and pregnant would bring shame to the family and you.”
Kara shook her head. “No, that’s not true. My mother would never. She volunteers at the church, for God’s sake.” Kara’s face was bright red, in defense mode.
“But it is true. She had big dreams for you. She wanted all of this for you.” Dahlia pointed to the house and party. “And she didn’t want me holding you back. Like I said, we come from two different worlds. I have to go.” Dahlia got into Betty and sped away, leaving Kara reeling from the truth about her mother.
Later that night, with still no word from Noah, she headed to Lil’s barn. It was a place that always made her feel better and less alone. The colorful walls never failed to envelop her in love, creativity, and a sense of belonging. The minute she opened the door, she was greeted by the aroma of old grass and pine. She stood motionless inthe doorway, anchored in the past. The flimsy door snapped shut behind her, waking her from this moment of peace. She turned on the lamp beside Lil’s chair, making everything glow. The terra-cotta pots lined shelves, and the garden tools hung in an orderly fashion below. Every single time she entered, she noticed something different. Yet another gift that kept on giving.
She lifted the window and soaked up the sounds of the twilight summer night. The crickets and cicadas chirped in sync, taking turns while Dahlia sank into the worn chair. She was sure Kara would never speak to her again. Dahlia regretted outing her mother for being cruel, but she was also tired of pretending. She kicked her feet up onto the nearby crate. As much as she wanted to be at peace, she still ached all over. If being with him came with this kind of cruelty and criticism, then she wanted no part of his world.
Her head said one thing, but her heart another. She had been through worse, yet grief was grief. It was still brutal, no matter the depths or circumstances. She wrapped a nearby blanket around her, feeling her lids lower.
Dahlia dozed off and woke with a vibrating phone in her hand.
“Noah?”
“Hello? Is this Dahlia Newberry?” a frail but soothing voice asked.
“Yes, it is.” Her mouth was suddenly dry.
“This is Gene.”
Gene, oh my gosh.It was him.Don’t be awkward, she told herself. Dahlia couldn’t get her voice to work. She wasn’t one for fanfare, but she still couldn’t believe she was on the phone with a man who’d won two Oscars.
“Hello, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Dahlia sat up straight. “I’m just surprised you called me back. I didn’t think this would reach you, or if it did, that you’d respond.” She could have been a crazed fan for all he knew.
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “When I received your email, I was intrigued. I have so many questions.”
Dahlia pinched her lips. “As do I.”
“You said you thought we were related.”
“Yes, I believe you may be my biological grandfather.” Hearing her say it aloud made the possibility sound absolutely insane. But she had proof. Of what she wasn’t sure, but it was something. “I’ve been cleaning out my family’s house in Southold, getting it ready to sell, and have uncovered some surprising information.” She paused. “I’m sorry, this is a lot.”
“It’s okay.” He sounded sweet. Not at all what she expected. “I do have some questions, though.”
“Of course, anything.”
“When was your mother or father born?”
“My mother, Rose …” She heard Gene’s breath hitch. “She was born May eighth, 1956.” There was silence, so she continued being careful not to jump to the end. The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him. “My grandmother raised her with my grandfather. Up until last week, that was the only truth I knew.”
“I see,” he said. “May I ask why you think it’s me?”
“I found a letter my grandmother wrote to you in 1965 saying as much. She took my mother to seeThe Best Man, not knowing you were in it.” Tiny fractures lined each word. She was still angry, yes, but her heart ached over not knowing the truth sooner. “It was a congratulatory letter that expressed her love for you.”
Again, silence.
