Julia stirred sweetener into her tea with an unsteady motion, carried it to the kitchen table, and placed it carefully in front of her as she sat down. How to do this? Where to start? Well, Claire had warned her and she’d waited too long to listen.
“Courtney, I’d like to talk to Beth alone for a few minutes, if you don’t mind?”
What Julia called her daughter’s black look descended on her face. “What’s so weird you can’t tell me? Some dark, terrible secret only Beth is old enough to know?” She folded her arms defiantly across her chest and refused to move.
Beth looked at her mother, then back at Courtney. “Go on upstairs, kiddo. I promise whatever it is, either I’ll tell you or Mom will. Go on.”
“No.” Courtney glowered. The only word for it. “I’m not moving. I have as much right as you to get some answers.”
Beth wrapped an arm around her sister’s stiff body. “You absolutely do. But can you just give Mom and me a few minutes? You have my word I’ll make sure you know everything.”
“So why can’t I know it now?” Courtney whined. “I’m not a baby anymore.”
“No, you’re not. And because you are turning into a mature young lady, a sister I’m proud of, you’re going to do this one thing for me. Right?”
Finally, Courtney uncrossed her arms. “Fine. Fine, fine, fine.” She stomped out of the room.
Julia flinched.
Beth sat down in the chair next to her. “Okay, truth or consequences, Mom. I’m over twenty-one, on my own, and whether you want to hear it or not, I’ve had sex already.”
Julia looked at her with a pained expression. “I can’t say I’m surprised but you didn’t actually have to tell me.”
Beth put her hand on her mother’s arm. “I’m telling you only because it gave me the experience to know immediately the atmosphere between you and Luke Buchanan was definitely not of a business nature. I don’t want any details, and to tell you the truth, I’m glad to find out my mother might be finally coming out of the deep freeze.” She smiled. “You’ve kept yourself in a very unhealthy place since Dad passed away. It’s time to move forward.”
“Would that be so bad if I did?” Julia asked anxiously. “Does it bother you?”
“No.” Beth shook her head. “What bothers me first is you think you have to hide it for some unknown reason.”
Julia started to answer her but Beth held up a hand.
“Not finished here. I’m going to stick my neck out and guess the reason you’re scrunched up in a ball is the fact my sister bears a striking resemblance to the man you were with. Am I right?”
Julia felt a pressure on her chest so great she thought her heart would stop beating. She lifted her cup with shaking hands, nearly spilling the tea, and took a sip, trying to give herself time to organize her thoughts. She opened her mouth to answer Beth but nothing would come out. Everything she wanted to say stuck in her throat, and even her favorite tea couldn’t loosen the log jam.
“Mom? Please answer me. You’re scaring me.”
Julia looked at her daughter, concern in her eyes and a hint of panic. Her inner voice was shouting to her to get on with it. That it was way past time. She took another sip of the tea and dredged up some measure of calm.
“I have a story to tell you, Bethie. It’s complex and there are parts of it you aren’t going to like at all. I just want you to remember no matter what I say and no matter what happened, your father loved you very much. And I have always loved you. Each of you. My children have always come first with me.”
“I know, Mom. You’re a great mother.” Beth leaned forward. “And nothing’s ever going to change how much we love you, okay? So whatever it is, just…say it. Unless you murdered someone, I don’t think there’s anything we can’t get through.” Her lips curved in a weak smile. “And depending on who it is, maybe we could even handle murder.”
“Hold on to that thought, will you? Let me fix myself another cup of tea first, and then I’ll tell you everything. And you have to promise not to say anything until I’m finished. After that I’ll answer whatever questions you ask.”
It took her two more cups of tea and a glass of wine to get the entire story out, the pain as she dredged it up consuming her. She spared herself nothing, doing her best to paint herself as the villain in the breakup of her marriage, to leave her children a good memory of their father.
Beth sat quietly, getting up only once to fix a cup of coffee from the new Keurig machine, and then to pour some wine for herself. When Julia was finished, an eerie quiet spread through the kitchen, almost as if someone had died.
“I know I can’t expect you to understand,” Julia began, but Beth interrupted her.
“Now there’s where you’re wrong.” She got up from her chair and went to stand at the sink, looking out the window to the view in the huge back yard. “Andy and I were just little kids when Daddy passed away, but even little kids know when their father can’t connect with them, when he thinks they’re a nuisance. When he…doesn’t know how to love. We’ve talked about it a lot over the years and wanted to ask you if there was something we’d done wrong, but you seemed intent on putting him on a pedestal and we were afraid to say anything.”
“Oh, sweetheart, no.” Julia went to stand by her daughter. “You and your brother were—and are—terrific kids. The best. I just wanted you to have memories to cherish.”
Beth made a sound half snort and half cry. “You have no idea what our memories of him are. We always hoped after he died you’d meet
