“Fine.” Meredith’s mouth pursed. “I’ll leave off calling you princess as long as I don’t have to hear that ridiculous nickname again.”
“Agreed.” Carrie’s cornflower blue gaze met Avery’s. “Do you want more help on the Gray issue or should we start with the boxes?”
More help? Avery pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Her sisters had talked in circles without offering one piece of concrete advice. The last thing she needed was more help, although she realized she felt less anxious than she had when she’d first arrived. Hard to say whether that could be attributed to the sisterly support or the alcohol.
“Boxes,” she answered.
Carrie rose from the chair, swaying ever so slightly. “I found most of the contents in the desk drawers in Dad’s office. I started to go through it, but there were personal letters and photographs.” Her knuckles grew white as her fingers clenched the box’s lid. “I couldn’t manage it on my own.”
“Why not just throw it all away?” Meredith asked, eyeing the box like it contained a den of venomous snakes.
“I don’t know,” Carrie admitted. “I thought maybe something in here would offer a clue as to why he made the choices he did. Don’t you all wonder?”
“Of course,” Avery answered at the same time Meredith bit off, “Nope.”
“That’s a lie,” Carrie said. “I know you care more than you’ll admit.”
“Whatever,” Meredith mumbled, leaning over to reach for the box. “If we aren’t going to dissect Avery’s love life, let’s get on with this. I have horses to feed later.”
“You said your dad was taking care of them tonight.” Carrie lifted an eyebrow in challenge when Meredith rolled her eyes.
Instead of arguing or admitting to the lie, Meredith flipped off the lid to the cardboard banker’s box and pulled out a stack of papers.
“What is all this?” Avery grabbed a few off the top, her breath hissing out as she recognized a familiar face in the photos tucked between scribbled notes and random receipts.
“Mom,” she whispered.
Both Carrie and Meredith stared at her. “Your mom is in one of the photos?”
She nodded, unable to manage a cognizant thought with the riot of emotions tumbling through her. “She was young.” She held out the photo after staring at it for several long seconds. “In San Francisco with Niall.”
Her mother looked carefree in a way Avery didn’t recognize. She wore a paisley-patterned sundress with her hair piled high on her head. Niall’s arm was draped around her shoulders, both casual and possessive, and her mother smiled at the camera with so much joy it was physically painful to see.
“This must have been when they met.” Carrie took the photo, then passed it to Meredith. “Didn’t your mom tell you it was a one-night stand?”
Avery nodded. “But they look too familiar for that. I didn’t ask her for details even after learning about Niall. She doesn’t like to talk about it. I think she considers a surprise pregnancy one of the few true failures of her life.”
“Of course she doesn’t think that,” Carrie said, her voice sharper than Avery would have expected. “She got you from it. No matter what else, that’s a blessing.”
“Right,” Avery agreed, because what was the alternative? Saying out loud that her very existence was a mistake?
“Wait.” Meredith shuffled through the papers in front of her. “Here they are again. Niall has a mustache in this photo.”
“That’s impossible.” Avery snatched the photo from her sister. “My mom only knew him for a night...or a weekend...or...”
“They had a longer relationship than she’s told you?” Meredith kept digging. “Most of the stuff is junk. Old receipts or notes that I can’t even read because his penmanship is horrible.”
“It always was,” Carrie murmured. “He started dictating his correspondence to me when I was in high school. He refused to use a computer. Everything had to be in longhand.”
“I don’t know about that,” Meredith countered. “Here’s a typed note signed by Niall and addressed to someone named Melissa.”
Avery swallowed. “That’s my mom.”
“He tells her he’s glad she