“I am.”
“Bless your soul.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Thank you doesn’t seem quite enough, but I don’t know what else to say. Thank you.”
He picked up his coffee. “You’re welcome.”
It felt good to do something nice for her. He had the money and no one else to spend it on. Kyle certainly wasn’t interested. And Joyce had kept him from completely losing himself to grief.
Flying her sister here was a small thing to do in comparison.
He smiled as he ate some more of his pancakes. It helped, too, knowing that doing this for Joyce was something Jeanie would approve of.
ChapterFifty-Three
Harper and Frankie sat on the same side of the booth, their backs to the wall, facing the door. Harper thought they probably looked odd sitting like that but once Sharlene arrived, it wouldn’t be weird. If she arrived.
Maybe they’d get lucky, and she’d flake. Except Frankie wouldn’t like that, and Harper didn’t want her sister to get hurt. This was already a tenuous situation.
Harper took a sip of the ice water the server had dropped off for them. She was so conflicted. On one hand, she wanted the meeting to go well so Frankie would feel good about the whole thing. On the other hand, Harper would be fine never meeting the woman.
Her life didn’t require a connection with her birth mother. She had Annie, her adopted mother, and even if the woman she considered her mom didn’t know who she was anymore, Harper had long ago made peace with it. Dementia might have erased her from her mother's mind, but it could never erase Harper’s memories. Annie, would always be her mother. No one was going to change that. Regardless of biology.
Shar was merely the human conduit that had brought her and her sister into the world. Yes, she’d gotten them through the first few years of life but then she’d abandoned them to the care of the state. To Harper, that negated her ability to consider herself a mother.
“What was that?” Frankie looked at her.
“What was what?” Harper asked.
“You just grunted.”
Harper frowned. “I don’t grunt.”
“You do and you did.”
Harper took a breath. Apparently, she’d externalized her internalizations. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About Shar?”
“Who else?”
Frankie gave Harper a quick side hug, arm-around-her-shoulders style. “I know you have anger issues when it comes to her, and I don’t blame you for that. You’re allowed to feel however you need to feel. But maybe hearing her side of things will change that. Or at least help you find some peace about it. We don’t really know what happened. It might have been beyond her control.”
Harper knew her sister was trying to smooth things out. To get her into a good head space before Shar arrived. But this approach wasn’t working. For Frankie’s sake, Harper kept her tone calm. “Frankie, you realize that if she gave us up for reasons beyond her control that’s actually worse, right? It means she was in a seriously bad situation. Like alcohol. Or drugs. Or who knows what.”
Frankie blinked like that was just now occurring to her. “I’m just saying we don’t know, and we should at least hear her out.”
“I’m sitting right next to you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to listen.” For how long, Harper couldn’t say. There was every possibility she might have to step outside at some point if things got to be too much. She had a lot of resentment when it came to her birth mother. Birth father, too, but she had far fewer memories of him than she did of their mother, and he seemed completely out of the picture.
Frankie gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I know I’ve said it, but thanks again for being here with me. It means a lot. Probably more because I know you don’t want to be here, but you’re doing it for me.”
Harper watched a drop of condensation trickle down the side of her glass. “I hope you get what you want out of this. I mean that. Finding peace is a big deal.” She doubted that meeting Shar would bring either of them any kind of peace, but sometimes things like that had to be experienced firsthand.
The café’s door opened, and a stout, older woman came in. She had shoulder-length curly red hair faded by age, a well-lined face, and vibrant blue eyes. She wore an emerald-green peasant blouse embroidered with flowers, a denim skirt, and gold orthopedic sandals.
“Shar,” Frankie said with breathy anticipation.
The sight of her hollowed Harper out. It was as if everything she’d been prepared to feel no longer existed and had been replaced by numbness. This was the woman who’d abandoned them. Who might have willingly given up her children.
Harper’s stomach twisted and she felt sick. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to talk to this woman. She didn’t want anything to do with her.
