“Now I understand why you were so freaked out when I hugged you,” Hattie said. “It wasn’t because it was me, but because I was basically a stranger.”
“I was outside my comfort zone, that’s for sure.”
“And I know how hard that is. I’ve been out of my comfort zone every minute of the last couple of years. Most days I feel as if I’m never going to find my comfort zone again.” She pulled a face. “Do you think I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life in my discomfort zone?”
It was hard to be distant with someone so likable.
“I have a feeling you’ve reached a turning point.”
“Let’s hope so.” Hattie curled up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her. “So how does your job work? Companies call you when something awful has happened?”
“Sometimes. If they’re wise, they get me in before it happens. I work with senior teams to try and identify all the possible areas of vulnerability. Then we put together a plan. But not everything can be predicted. The unexpected happens.”
“It certainly does.” Hattie leaned back against the sofa. “Life is full of bombshells you never saw coming.”
“And you’ve had a few of those.” Erica took a sip of wine. She’d thought she didn’t want to get involved, but now she discovered she wanted to know more about Hattie. “You’ve had a tough few years. How are you coping?”
Hattie shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t ask myself that. I just deal with today’s problem and then move on to the next one.”
“That sounds like an excellent strategy.”
“It’s the only strategy, really,” Hattie said. “I’ve learned that there’s not much point in having a plan because something always derails it.”
“I should imagine there are plenty of interruptions and disturbances, what with running an inn and being a single mother.”
“You have no idea.”
Erica put her glass down. “Actually, I do. I was raised by a busy working single mother.” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. “I apologize if that was tactless.”
“Tactless because Dad was the one who left her as a single mother, you mean?” Hattie removed a small toy wedged behind her back. “That’s not tactless, that’s honest.”
She’d expected Hattie to sugarcoat it. To tell a version that bore no resemblance to the real version. “You’ve obviously known about me a lot longer than I’ve known about you.”
“It seems that way.” Hattie leaned across and topped up Erica’s glass and then her own.
“Thanks. So when did you find out?”
“About you?” Hattie put the bottle down and snuggled back on the sofa. “I’ve always known.”
“Always?”
“Yes.” She took a mouthful of wine and nodded. “This is good.”
Erica was more interested in the conversation than the wine. “What do you mean, always?”
“Dad never kept you a secret. I can’t remember when he first told me he had another daughter. I feel as if I’ve always known, so I suppose I must have been very young. He told me that when he was much younger he’d done a terrible thing. He had a relationship with a woman and when she ended up pregnant, he panicked. He left. It was the worst thing he’d ever done in his life, and it left him deeply ashamed. He said that there was no excuse for it. At the time, he was terrified by the responsibility. Terrified that he wasn’t able to be the person he needed to be.”
“He left my mother terrified, too. He walked out of the delivery room and never came back.”
“I know. It was an awful thing to do.” Hattie nursed her wine on her lap. Far from defending her father’s behavior, she appeared to be in complete agreement. “Truly awful. I can’t even imagine. If Brent had done that to me I would have tracked him down and haunted him forever. That’s if I ever recovered sufficiently from the panic attack to leave the delivery room. And it’s no consolation at all, but Dad knew that. He never forgot it, and he never, ever forgave himself. But he did learn from it. It colored everything he did.”
“What do you mean?”
Hattie pulled the throw around her. “For a start, he was determined never to let anyone down again. My mother died soon after I was born, and he said he felt that same terror because the responsibility was crushing. I suppose he had a taste of how your mother must have felt being left alone with a baby. But this time he was determined to do it right, and not only because he was the only person in the world I had left.”
Erica thought about the photo she’d seen on Hattie’s desk when they’d checked in. “He was a good dad to you.” There was a stab of something she didn’t recognize. Envy? Loss? How could she feel loss for something she’d never had?
“He really was a good dad. And I don’t know if that makes you feel better or worse, but it’s the truth.” Hattie gave a half smile. “And maybe, in a way, I have you to thank for the fact that he was. He learned a hard lesson.”
Erica felt the past change shape around her. Not a selfish man walking away from responsibility and never looking back. A youthful mistake, a terrible error in decision making. Remorse carried through a lifetime. “I think if someone learns from a mistake, makes a major change in their lives because of it, that’s to be applauded. Not everyone learns.”
She thought of one particular CEO she’d dealt with in the past who couldn’t manage to rein in his behavior even though it was damaging the reputation of the company. He’d made excuses. Blamed everyone and everything except himself until in the end, Erica had walked away from the business, and felt sorry for his senior executives who were less able to do so.
She admired people who took responsibility. It seemed that her father had taken responsibility—the second time around.
Hattie took a sip of wine. “Dad was a good person. But he made a bad decision.” She lowered her glass. “He did try to put it right. A few years after you were born, he contacted your mother, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. She told him never to contact either of you again.”
A strange feeling washed over her. Her mother had never mentioned that contact, either. She’d assumed her father had never thought of her again.
But she imagined for a moment how her mother must have felt. She’d weathered those hard early days alone, handling both a baby and the loss of her love. She’d lived with the hope that he’d come back or at least get in touch, and when he hadn’t, she’d lived with the grief. She’d learned to cope with the practical and the emotional. She’d done everything she could to strengthen the places where she’d been vulnerable, including her heart. She’d accepted no help and reached out to no one.
It had been the only life Erica had known, and at the time it had seemed normal, but now she realized how very lonely her mother must have been. Between working and caring for Erica she’d had no time to pursue friendships, and by the time her father finally made contact, her instinct to protect herself and her daughter would have been entrenched. It would have taken great reserves of courage to trust him a second time.