was about to. He opened his wallet and pulled out a very old black-and-white photo he’d carried for a few weeks now. “This is why I called you.”
He offered the photo to Marie. She set down her fork after the first glance and soon pushed back her plate to set the photo down on the table. She didn’t say anything for a long time. She was looking at a photo of two people, one of whom would be unmistakable to her. “Henry knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
She turned over the photo, but there was no date. He knew the lady was sharp, quick to put together details, and she’d made the connection. He saw it in the way her expression subtly closed. And an awful pallor had begun to creep into her face.
“That was taken when she would have been about twenty-seven,” he said gently.
“You’ve got my attention, Daniel. There’s more.”
He hesitated and then removed the envelope from his inside suit pocket. “Would you recognize your mother’s handwriting?”
She reached for the letter as if she’d aged a few dozen years.
It was the shortest and tamest of the letters he’d discovered in the bank box, written in the good times between Henry and her mom, when he’d arranged to join her for the weekend about a year after Marie was born. The affair had lasted at least six years from what Daniel had been able to piece together.
He watched Marie absorb a hurt so deep it was killing her and tuck it away deep. The pallor had been joined by a hard set to her jaw, and she wasn’t going to let tears come; they were threatening, but staying forced away.
“You’ll have already done more than just speculate that I’m Henry’s daughter.”
“There were paternity tests run at the lawyers’ insistence years ago. Marie, Henry names you and Tracey in his will.”
“Mandy?” she whispered.
There were three sisters, and Henry’s will named only two. “No. I’m so sorry, Marie.” He’d just ripped her family in two. The oldest sister had a different father. The detective’s report said she had passed away years before, and part of Daniel was relieved at that, to not have to tell a third sister that she was, in reality, only a half sister to Marie and Tracey. The fact their mother had never been married suggested both men in her life during the decade the three girls had been born might have already been married, but it was not something he wanted to speculate on.
Marie shoved back her chair and walked away.
Daniel watched her, understanding some of the turmoil she was in.
He rose as she eventually returned and knew she wouldn’t be able to face more of a meal right now. And while the coffee might help, it would be simply patching over the awkward moment.
“Can we walk the grounds? I think… I need to walk.”
“Then let’s walk.” He settled a hand on her arm and guided her down to one of the exits tucked away, which led out to the landscaped grounds.
“This makes me what, your cousin?”
He pushed his hands into his pockets as he nodded. “Yes. I’d say welcome to the family, but I know it doesn’t feel like such good news right now.”
“Not Mandy.” Marie was still focused on the heart of the problem for her. “A six-year-or-more affair with your uncle, and my mom has someone else in her life before that?”
“I don’t know, Marie. My uncle rarely talked about his personal life, my aunt never hinted at past marriage troubles, and while I have information I’ve gleaned from a few saved letters and photos, it’s not much for answers. That kind of time-for what it’s worth it suggests they really did care a lot about each other.”
“Mom died shortly after Tracey was born. I have memories of someone who was happy, who laughed a lot, who liked to dress up, and who loved elegance. Not much to rest a lifetime of memories on. And she was involved with a married man. Didn’t your aunt know? suspect?”
“I honestly don’t think so. She wasn’t a wallflower, passive, or likely to stay in a marriage where her husband strayed. Even for those times and the turmoil of a divorce, she would have left him.”
Marie bit her lip. “My aunt knew.”
“Yes.” Daniel hated this, being the one who had to break the news. “It appears Henry had an arrangement with your aunt and had helped her financially in the past. Henry mentions you and Tracey in his will. He did have a heartfelt desire to recognize his responsibility and name you and Tracey as his daughters; I know he was waiting to do that somewhat out of respect for your aunt. And about the will-there’s money involved.”
She dismissed the words with a shake of her head, not ready to deal with the mention of money yet. She wiped at tears as she walked in silence for long minutes.
“I’m sorry, Daniel. This has to be particularly cruel to you.”
He was surprised at the direction she’d gone with her thoughts. “The one thing I know about family is that they tend to surprise you. And I can’t say I mind the idea of having cousins. Christmas was going to just be me this year and pretty lonely.”
“You’re not married?” She stopped walking. “I’m sorry. I know so very little about you, or Henry, when it comes right down to it.”
She didn’t say Father and he didn’t expect her ever to; Henry would do. “I’m single, a year older than you, and about the only family you’ll have to absorb now that Henry has passed away. There may be a distant third cousin or two, but I’m it for close family.” He smiled. “Why don’t we walk awhile and you can listen and kind of mull it around while I give you a sketch of this side of the family history.”
“That would help, Daniel.”
“My aunt and uncle married in 1959 while my aunt was finishing her architecture degree and Henry was working his way up to be vice president of a local bank. Henry left to start the Benton Group in ’67. I’d call Henry a venture capitalist; he would leverage other people’s assets and his own to fund projects around the state where he could potentially turn a healthy profit. Henry had one sister-my mother. She taught at the local high school, and my dad built up a successful real-estate business here in town. My parents died in a car accident about a year before I went to work for Henry. Over the last five years, Henry had been slowly handing more and more responsibility for the business over to me as his health failed.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you seeing someone now, Marie? Someone who can help you with this?”
“No. I’ve had other priorities the last few years.” She settled her hands into her jacket pockets. “I admit I’m not feeling much yet. How much money? I think I’m ready for that shock now.”
“A little over thirty million to you; just shy of thirty million to Tracey.”
She blanched. “He was that wealthy?”
“Yes.”
“What am I supposed to do with that kind of money? Thirty thousand I can use, but thirty million-it doesn’t register.”
“You can afford to keep the Denart if you’d like to.”
She laughed, a bit broken, but alive again for a moment. “Thanks, I needed that perspective.”
“Let’s get some coffee. I’m afraid there’s still a lot we’ve got to discuss today.”
“Yes, the coffee would be good now.” She walked back with him in silence, and he didn’t interrupt her thoughts. She sighed. “The press know about this?”
“They’re going to soon. How do you want to tell Tracey?”
“She won’t be as shocked as I was; Tracey is the kind of person who can flow with where life goes. She’s skiing with her boyfriend for a long weekend.”
“We could fly out to meet them tonight for a late dinner.”
Marie shook her head. “Let her stay skiing; they’re planning to come back Sunday night. Maybe by then the worst of the press can be pushed off and I can get past the not knowing what questions to ask. I’ll talk with her by phone and kind of ease into the news of what’s coming.”
“I’m going to enjoy getting to know her.”
“Are you wanting us to be family, Daniel? We can be fine being holiday relations, seeing each other a couple times a year. You’ve got your own life to lead, and we just got dropped in your lap.”
“I’d like us to be family, Marie, in the way the best of family can be. I never had sisters, and I’ll gladly take two
