tears, calling her honey. “I don’t know,” she said. “Grateful, maybe. Embarrassed that I didn’t amount to more. That I couldn’t give my kids more. I don’t know what you must think of me.”
He was still on the floor, but he sat up a bit taller. “I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he said. “When I think about…” He just shook his head.
She wiped away tears with her fingers and pulled Berry onto her lap. “When you think about what?” she asked.
He had trouble meeting her eyes. He took a deep breath. “If I had approached you at fifteen or sixteen, told you where I was and that I’d do whatever I could to help if you needed me, if I’d done that, things would have been so different. But I didn’t.”
“Why?” she said in a breath.
He shook his head again. “I thought it was for you. But maybe it was for me. Maybe it was easier to avoid the possibility of any conflict—I’m guilty of that. I learned that about myself, that I’m too passive. If I had known she would do what she—that she would throw you out… My God. Please, you must not blame yourself.”
Nora looked at his sad eyes and thought, I’m not sure. He could be lying to me and I wouldn’t know the difference. “We have a long way to go, you and I.”
“A long way, yes, you’re right about that. And part of that has to involve coming to terms with how your mother was. Nora, we can spend a lot of time talking about how much pain she caused us. We could work that like a hangnail for a lot of years, you and I. But at some point we have to let some things go. For my part, I broke her heart. I hurt her. She obviously felt abandoned, robbed, cheated. Abused. I spent years feeling the hurt she caused me by keeping you from me, but certainly she must have felt deep hurt, as well.” He shook his head. “Who knows what that can do to a person?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what it does,” Nora said. “It makes them angry and unforgiving and unreachable.”
“She made mistakes, Nora. So did I. We don’t have to keep reliving them. We can make a decision not to repeat them. To do better.” He gave her a smile. “You’re obviously doing exactly that. Your children love and trust you. And after hardly any time at all I can tell, you’ll always be there for them.”
* * *
Jed’s trunk was full of stuff for his granddaughters—mostly clothes for the girls, which they needed. There was a jumper with a butterfly appliqué on it, the gauzy wings standing out and a few sequins sewn on that melted Berry’s heart and when she touched it she said, “Ohhhhh.” So Nora put it on her. While Berry was a long way from letting her brand-new grandfather cuddle her, she did gently finger that butterfly and look up at him with a slight smile.
He admitted that Susan helped with the shopping—there were even dishes and placemats for the girls. His gifts had not been extravagant. They were all necessities and he’d left the price tags on in case they should be exchanged. They were inexpensive, but so nice. And there was also a big bag of diapers, a case of formula, a box of wipes, a batch of bottles and sippy cups.
Then he took them all to Jack’s Bar for Sunday night dinner and it was the first restaurant experience Berry and Fay had. But there could be no more perfect place because not only was the grill stocked up on high chairs, booster seats and mini-meals for children, but there were a number of families there, including Jack’s. Jack shook Jed’s hand excitedly. “Welcome,” he boomed. “I didn’t know Nora had family nearby—that’s great. Nora is one of our favorites around here, just so you know. She’s helped out at the clinic, at the new school—a real trouper. And this town is made of troupers.”
A short time later Mel Sheridan came in with her kids and beamed when she saw Nora with her dad. Before even sitting down, she introduced herself and her children. “How fantastic you could visit! Nora’s become a good friend of mine. She reaches out to everyone, helping whenever she can—a godsend.”
Nora had the strangest feeling of being normal,