Chapter Thirteen
Eva
It shouldn’t have really surprised me to see the woman I hated more than any other female alive show up at a Walker party.
What had really shocked me was when she approached me, asked to have a discussion with me privately. All I could think was that she was going to warn me that she’d expose me if I showed my face in her social circle again.
I braced myself for her lecture as she led me into a small, empty room that was just as plush as the rest of the country club.
“Please sit,” the older woman said.
“I’d prefer to stand,” I answered rigidly as I pulled my arm from her light grasp. I doubted this would take very long.
“It’s a rather lengthy story, Evangelina. Please.” She sat on a gold couch and motioned to the matching chair across from her.
Nobody ever called me by my full name, so she got my attention. I perched awkwardly on the edge of the chair, ready to duck out of the room if she started haranguing me.
Who was I kidding? This meeting just made me realize that even though my record was clear, I’d never be free of my past.
Time spent in prison had a way of catching up to a person, whether they were guilty or not. In some people’s eyes, I’d always be a thief, a convicted criminal.
My gaze drifted up from their previous position, which had been directed at the floor. I wasn’t guilty of anything, and I had no reason to fear this woman anymore. Still, our confrontation made me nauseous.
I barely knew Nora Mitchell, had only met her briefly once before her son’s birthday party. She’d never come to my trial, but had given a written statement. Supposedly, she’d been too ill to come in person at the time. She was attractive for a woman her age, which I guessed was probably in her early sixties. Unlike some rich women, she didn’t try to cover her age with hair dyes, and her short style was curly and an attractive silvery gray. Her dress was a pretty powder blue, elegant rather than showy, and she was sporting a few pieces of the jewelry that had once been missing, making me flinch as I recognized the gems.
“First, I want to apologize to you. I convicted you without knowing all the facts.”
Okay. She shocked me, and I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as I gaped at her silently.
She continued, “I didn’t want to believe that Karen could steal from me, when it should have been perfectly obvious that she had. All I could think about was protecting her. All I’d ever tried to do was protect her.”
“I don’t understand.” Why would Nora Mitchell care about my mother? She’d been a temporary companion for a very short amount of time.
“Karen was my only child, Evangeline. Your mother was my daughter.”
I put a hand on my belly as it began to roll in protest. “That’s impossible. My mother said her parents didn’t accept her or her pregnancy with me. She said her parents had washed their hands of her.”
Mrs. Mitchell shook her head, a remorseful expression on her face. “Your grandfather was a harsh man, and he wasn’t an easy man to live with. It’s true that he cut Karen off and never spoke to her again, and he didn’t allow me to see her either. I looked for you and your mother after he died and I re-married, this time to a kinder husband. But I couldn’t locate her. Eventually, I convinced myself that I was better off not knowing.”
That statement hurt because I didn’t understand how someone could so easily forget that she had a child and grandchild somewhere in the world, but I let the emotion pass. It didn’t matter anymore, and I was still trying to wrap my head around her claims. “Did she know who you were when she came to work for you?”
Nora nodded. “She knew, but she said she didn’t want me to give her anything. She was just there for a job. Since I couldn’t connect with her any other way, I let her take the position. I wanted to meet you, which is why she brought you to work at my stepson’s birthday party.”
“Stepson?” I hadn’t known he wasn’t her natural son.
“I have three stepchildren. Two boys and a girl. I love them all like they’re my own. But I never forgot your mother.”
Resentment started to rise from the pit of my stomach, but I pushed it back down. “But you apparently forgot you had a granddaughter,” I answered drily.
“I didn’t, Evangelina. Even after I’d convinced myself you were guilty, I wasn’t ever going to say a word, but I had to.”
Well, that explained why it had taken some time for Mrs. Mitchell to realize the jewelry was gone. “You were going to cover for me?”
She nodded, her gray head bobbing nervously. “Just like I always did for your mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your mother was never an easy child, and she became an even wilder teenager. If she got in trouble, I helped her and never told her father. Later, after she’d left and her father had passed away, I started reading a lot of literature on mental health. I’d say she was probably bipolar, and had some other issues from being raised by my first husband. He was abusive, both mentally and physically. I blame myself for that. I stayed with him, and Karen had to live with the abuse.”
“Are you making excuses for her?” I asked bitterly, knowing I had no place in my heart to forgive my mother.
“Not anymore. I just want you to understand what happened to her.”
“My father was a good man. He worked long hours to keep a roof over our head. We might not have had the material things like she did when she lived at home, but my father loved her, even when she treated him like dirt.” Mostly, that was the only way my mother had ever treated my father.
“I never met him, but I’m sure he was a good man. But your mother’s father was very conscious of his image, and he refused to have her unwed and pregnant in our house. I know it wasn’t right, and I felt so helpless when he threw her out when she was pregnant, but maybe I was hoping she’d be better off out of the house.” What Mrs. Mitchell didn’t mention was the fact that I was a mixed-race child. But she didn’t have to. It was obvious that had I been of a better pedigree, I would have been more readily accepted.
“She never changed. She was just as crazy out of your home as she was when she lived there. Maybe she was bipolar, but she was also sociopathic. Everything was all about her, and if things didn’t go her way, she made everybody around her miserable.”
“I figured that out after some time in her company as my companion,” Mrs. Mitchell agreed. “I begged her to get treatment for her mental health issues, but she refused.”
“Why in the world did you let her hook up with Trace’s father?” No man had deserved my mother, and by all accounts from Trace, his dad had been a good man.
“I felt guilty for the life Karen had lived when she was younger. I thought maybe if she made a good marriage, she’d get better,” Mrs. Mitchell said contritely.
“She was selfish, she was a thief, and she was a liar. Trace’s father didn’t deserve getting stuck with her without knowing exactly what he was getting into.”
“I know all of those things, but it didn’t erase the fact that she was my baby girl, my only child. I made excuses for her when she was younger. I think I was still trying to make her a better woman than she really was. Of all people, I knew she wasn’t right in the head. But I didn’t want to admit it.”
Tears of remorse was running down Nora Mitchell’s face, but as I thought about the stone cold fear that I’d lived in for most of my adult life, I had a very hard time feeling sympathy for her. “So I could be sacrificed to protect her?” I asked flatly.
“No. And you shouldn’t have been. But it took me a long time to be honest with myself.”
I gritted my teeth. “When? When did you decide to see the truth?”
Nora dug into the large purse she was carrying and pulled something from inside. “When Trace came to me for answers, I finally read her journal. She left it at my house when she went to marry your father. Trace showed me the video, and he told what he believed to be true. He was right.”
I stared at the plain black notebook. She was offering it to me, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to take it.
She dropped it on the small coffee table that separated us. “I’m so sorry, Evangelina. I should have always known it was Karen. But I thought she was going to marry Trace’s father and everything would go right for her.”
“What about me?”
“I convinced myself you were guilty, and that you deserved to spend time in prison.”
“I didn’t do it. I’ve never stolen anything in my life except discarded food occasionally.” I’d done what I had to do to survive, but I’d always hated it. Even if it was garbage, I knew it wasn’t my garbage, and I shouldn’t be taking anything that didn’t belong to me. But survival was a strong instinct to fight.
“I understand. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know that I was sorry.” The woman broke down in tears, one of her hands fisted to cover her mouth as though she wanted to hide the fact that she was crying.
I watched as fat tears dripped down her cheeks, and my heart started to bleed. I stood and walked over to her chair. I crouched down and took the hand that was lying on her leg. “She’s not worth it, you know.”
“Who?” Mrs. Mitchell’s voice was scratchy.
“My mother. She’s not worth the pain that you carry inside you. She probably never was.”
“I’m not crying for her,” she answered tearfully. “I’m sad for you.”
I didn’t want this woman’s pity. “Don’t. I’m safe now. Trace has helped me in ways nobody else could or would. He trusted me.”
“Trace Walker is a good man, Evangelina.” She stroked the diamond on my finger. “I’m glad that you’re going to be happy. It was pretty obvious to me that he loves you.”
I swallowed a denial, realizing that Trace had never told her the truth about our engagement. He didn’t love me, but he did care. “He’s an intense man,” I answered noncommittally.
Nora sniffled. “Sometimes those are the best kind. I’ve buried two husbands now. And I know the difference between a good and a bad relationship.”
“Did Trace set up this meeting?” I was pretty convinced that Nora being here was more than a coincidence.
“Yes. He didn’t like it, but he agreed that you should know the truth.”
“The truth shall set you free,” I murmured, doubting how right that biblical quote was in my situation. “I’m glad you told me.”
I stood up and placed her hand gently back on her thigh.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered again.
I looked down at her and realized she was just as much a victim as I had been. Though her motivation was skewed, she’d been trying to right her wrongs. She didn’t have to be here telling me the truth. She could have been in denial for the rest of her life, letting me forever take the blame in her mind. It would have been easier, and kinder to her psyche.
“It’s okay,” I told her softly. “I survived.”
“You should have had so much more than survival.”
I picked up my mother’s journal, knowing I had to read it. “I did. I had my father for fourteen years. He was more than enough.”
“You really loved him,” Mrs. Mitchell stated.
I nodded. “I really did. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“I’d like to be part of your life someday, Evangelina. You’ve grown into an amazing woman.”
At one time, I would have given anything to hear that from family. Now, my mind was cluttered with information, and I was still trying to process the details I’d been given. “I need time to think.”
The older woman nodded her head once. “Of course. Call me after you’ve had time to think it over. I’ll understand if you don’t.” She nodded her head at my mother’s journal. “It’s going to be hard to read. She was very angry.”
I walked to the door and twisted the handle. “It’s nothing I’m not used to,” I informed her, then walked out the door.
Trace was there to support me, his arm around my waist. “Are you okay?”
His expression was unreadable, but I knew he was asking if I could accept what I’d just been told. “I don’t know.”
Escorting me to the elevator, he didn’t say a word to me or anyone else on the way out.
I waited until the elevator doors closed us in alone before I hurled myself into his arms and cried.