Could he possibly be right that seeing how her mother was literally blossoming away from her dad had shaken her values, made her question everything she’d believed about marriage and the possibility of happily ever after? Had seeing Bridget slowly reach out for her own fresh start reminded Heather of all the reasons she’d had when she first left Connor?
No, she thought fiercely, that couldn’t be right. She’d left Connor not because she’d craved independence, not because she didn’t love him and want a future with him, but because he wasn’t offering one. Now he was, and she’d said no. Maybe she did need to see a shrink, after all.
Or maybe it was time she went back to listening to her heart.
CHAPTER 21
Heather couldn’t seem to shake Connor’s theory about why she was holding back on marriage now that he was ready for it. Did it have anything at all to do with whatever was going on between her mother and father? And what was going on?
Certainly Bridget seemed to be in no big hurry to get back to Ohio. She was going to church on Sundays with Nell and had even joined her women’s group at the church on a couple of occasions. Last week, she’d played bingo there one evening, as well. And she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying working at Cottage Quilts and teaching classes. It appeared she truly was settling into Chesapeake Shores.
Feeling oddly disgruntled, Heather watched her mother’s efficient movements as she prepared dinner for the three of them. She was making spaghetti. It was one of little Mick’s favorites—and also his dad’s. Bridget didn’t even seem to mind the mess he was bound to make. In fact, she had incredible patience with her grandson, who could test even Heather’s nerves from time to time.
Heather maneuvered herself to her feet and used her crutches to cross the room. She settled on a stool at the kitchen counter. “Mom, can I ask you something?”
Bridget looked up from the sauce she was stirring. “Of course.”
“What’s going on with you and Dad?”
Her mother’s expression froze. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do,” Heather said impatiently. “You must. You’ve been here for several weeks now. He hasn’t come to visit. He hardly calls anymore. At least, not when I’m around. Is this some kind of separation?”
To her horror, a tear leaked from her mother’s eye and trickled down her cheek. “Mom?” she whispered, shaken by the sight of her mother crying. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, it’s okay,” her mother insisted. “You should know what’s going on. The truth is, your father and I separated months ago.”
Heather regarded her with shock. “Months ago? And you never said a word to me? Why?”
“You had a lot going on in your own life.” Bridget sighed. “The truth is we should have done it years ago, but we thought staying married was for the best.”
“Because of me,” Heather guessed.
“You, and because I wasn’t raised to accept divorce as an option. When I spoke those vows in church, they meant something to me. With divorce off the table, it didn’t seem to make sense to disrupt everyone’s lives with a separation.”
“And now?”
“I just don’t know,” Bridget said wearily. “I still believe divorce goes against God’s will, but it seems wrong for two people to remain tied together forever when they’re both so unhappy. It’s not that I expect to meet someone new at my age, but just separating indefinitely the way it’s been these past few months would be like living the rest of my life in limbo. I honestly don’t know what my next step should be. Being here, not having to face that decision right away, has been a relief.”
“I wish you’d talked to me about this sooner,” Heather told her. “Not that I have any answers for you, but at least I could have listened.”
“I didn’t want to burden you. I was still struggling to accept that you and Connor had a child together and had no intention of getting married. Because of the way I raised you, I knew you had to have conflicting feelings about that. I thought my problems might just add to your confusion.”
Heather wasn’t ready to admit that perhaps they had. Instead, she asked, “Mom, do you believe marriages ever work?”
Bridget looked startled by the question. “Well, of course, I do. There’s evidence all around of that.”
“But there’s just as much that proves they don’t,” Heather reminded her. “Look at the divorce statistics. Look at your own situation, for heaven’s sake.”
“Too many people run at the first sign of trouble,” Bridget declared with feeling. “I’m not saying marriage isn’t hard. It is. It requires determination and compromise and enough love to weather the storms. But even with all of that, sometimes people just have to admit they’ve made a mistake. That’s the way it is for your father and me. We were a mismatch from the beginning. I’m a homebody. I like my routines. He’s a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy who’d rather hang with his buddies in a bar than sit at home with me. I thought when you came along, he’d change, but that only made things worse.”
She gave Heather an apologetic look. “Not your fault, of course. He had no idea what to do with a baby, and I started to resent him not being around to help. I could go on and on. We tried, though. I even got him into counseling for a couple of sessions, but the truth was, he didn’t want to change. I just had to accept that.”
Heather regarded her mother with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She turned the heat under the sauce to low and sat down next to Heather. “I’m painting a picture of all the things that
