Chapter 3 – The Question She Never Asked

“You told Lauren I was keeping her daughter away?”

I stared at Vanessa.

She had gone pale beneath the warm chandelier light.

“That isn’t what I said.”

Lauren shook her head.

“You told me Rachel was afraid of losing Maisie, so she wouldn’t admit the child wanted to see me.”

Vanessa looked toward Luca.

“Darling, you’re letting them twist everything.”

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“Then tell us exactly what happened.”

She crossed her arms.

“Maisie asked whether someone who’d stopped drinking could become a good parent again. I assumed she was thinking about Lauren.”

I looked at my daughter.

“Sweetheart, is that true?”

Maisie nodded.

I felt a sudden ache in my chest.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

She stared at the table.

“Because I thought you’d be sad.”

I swallowed.

“Why would I be sad?”

“Because you might think I wanted another mom.”

I pulled my chair closer.

“Maisie, you can wonder about Lauren without hurting me.”

Her eyes filled.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She glanced at my sister.

“Sometimes I just wanted to know if she was okay.”

Lauren made a small sound.

Then Maisie continued.

“And sometimes I wanted to know if she remembered me.”

Lauren pressed the silver elephant charm against her palm.

“I never forgot you.”

Maisie looked uncertain.

I couldn’t blame her.

Remembering someone and showing up for them were two very different things.

Vanessa leaned forward.

“That’s why I contacted Lauren. I thought Maisie deserved answers.”

Luca looked at her.

“Why didn’t you speak with Rachel first?”

“Because I thought she’d refuse.”

“You didn’t know that.”

“I knew she was protective.”

I shook my head.

“Protective isn’t the same as unreasonable.”

Vanessa stared at me.

“Rachel, you’re not the only person who cares about this child.”

I felt my cheeks burn.

“No. But I’m the person who goes home with her every night.”

Lauren looked down.

I hadn’t meant to hurt her.

But it was the truth.

And for seven years, I’d learned that a child needed truth more than beautiful promises.

Luca pulled his chair closer to ours.

“Lauren, how did you meet Vanessa?”

My sister took a breath.

“Through a recovery employment program in Milwaukee.”

Vanessa shifted uncomfortably.

Lauren continued.

“I was working at a bakery when the program helped me get additional training. Vanessa came to speak about their family-support initiative.”

Luca looked surprised.

“You never mentioned meeting Rachel’s sister.”

Vanessa avoided his eyes.

“I didn’t know Lauren was connected to our household at first.”

Lauren nodded.

“That’s true. We met about eight months ago.”

“How did you discover the connection?”

“I told Vanessa about my daughter. I mentioned that my older sister was raising her in Chicago.”

Lauren looked toward me.

“Later, when I told her your name, she recognized it.”

I stared at Vanessa.

For eight months, she’d known.

She’d seen me putting away groceries at the mansion.

She’d heard me discussing Maisie’s homework.

She’d asked about my daughter almost every week.

All while knowing Lauren was trying to find a way back into our lives.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.

Vanessa’s voice softened.

“Because Lauren wasn’t ready.”

My sister looked surprised.

“I asked you not to contact Rachel until I could figure out what to say.”

Vanessa nodded.

“Exactly.”

“But that was months ago,” Lauren continued. “Last week I asked you to help me arrange a conversation.”

Luca leaned forward.

“And you turned it into a surprise reunion?”

Vanessa’s face tightened.

“I wanted Lauren to have a chance.”

“Then you should have given her a chance to ask Rachel herself.”

For the first time, Lauren looked directly at Vanessa without gratitude.

“You told me Rachel had agreed.”

Vanessa said nothing.

“You said she wanted us to start rebuilding the family.”

“I thought she would.”

Lauren’s voice shook.

“That’s not the same thing.”

Maisie leaned against my shoulder.

I felt how exhausted she was.

Too many adults had been speaking about her as though she weren’t sitting there.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered, “would you like us to stop talking for a little while?”

She shook her head.

“No. I want to know why everybody thought I was leaving.”

I looked at Luca.

He nodded.

“That’s a fair question.”

Vanessa glanced toward the far end of the table.

Several guests were watching us.

One of them, a silver-haired woman in a dark green dress, looked particularly troubled.

Vanessa noticed.

Her expression changed.

“Luca, we should discuss this privately.”

“We are discussing it with the people involved.”

“But there are guests here.”

“You introduced Lauren to those guests.”

Vanessa lowered her voice.

“Please. There are people here who have supported my work for years.”

Luca frowned.

“What does your work have to do with Maisie?”

She hesitated.

“Tonight was supposed to demonstrate what the program can accomplish.”

The silver-haired woman looked up.

Luca stared at Vanessa.

“What program?”

Vanessa swallowed.

“The Homecoming Table initiative.”

I’d heard that name before.

Vanessa had spent months developing a program to help parents in recovery reconnect with their families.

She’d hosted fundraisers.

Organized volunteer dinners.

Talked about giving people second chances.

I’d thought it was generous work.

Until tonight.

Luca looked toward the guests.

“Vanessa, please tell me you didn’t invite Lauren and Maisie here as part of a fundraising presentation.”

She said nothing.

The silver-haired woman slowly stood.

“My name is Evelyn Ward,” she said.

“I’ve helped fund the program.”

She looked at Maisie with deep concern.

“I’m very sorry, sweetheart.”

Then she turned toward Luca.

“Mr. Moretti, we were told tonight’s dinner would include a mother and daughter who had already agreed to reunite.”

She glanced at the unused train tickets.

“And we were told the child was going home with her biological mother tomorrow.”