“I do.” Samantha sighed. “All right. I’ll meet you there. But please reassure me that your expectations are realistic. She is not going to clasp you to her bosom and say how much she loves you and how proud she is of everything you’ve achieved.”
“Do you think she is finally going to apologize?”
There was a pause. “I doubt it. Not after five years.”
“But she called us!” Ella lowered her voice and walked to the opposite end of the kitchen so that Tab couldn’t hear every word. “That’s her reaching out. That has to be a good sign.”
“You are such an optimist. Which I love, but it scares me. We don’t know why she’s reaching out. And if you go there thinking that this is all going to end happily, you’ll be hurt again and I can’t bear that. I know you can’t talk properly because you have Tab there, but you do know what I’m saying, don’t you?”
“Yes. Are you okay?” Ella quickly glanced at Tab. “You sound stressed.”
“I’m fine. Not my best day, that’s all.”
“Work or Kyle?”
“Kyle and I broke up. My fault and my choice, but it’s still stress. This Mom thing isn’t helping.”
Ella kept her mouth shut. In her opinion, Kyle had been as exciting as a piece of dried fruit, but she knew better than to say so. Her sister’s relationships were a no-go area. The one thing they never talked about in depth.
“How did the assistant even get your number? We’ve both moved since we last saw her.”
“I assume they looked me up on the internet.”
“It must have been a pretty shocking call.”
“Yeah, I’ve had a few of those today.”
Ella frowned. “You’ve had more than one bad phone call?”
“Forget it.”
“I want to hear about it.”
“I can’t yet talk about it without wanting to die of humiliation.”
Intrigued, Ella was about to ask another question when she heard the sound of Michael’s key in the door. “I need to go—Michael is home. Text me the details of the hospital and I’ll see you there.”
Ella dropped her phone into her purse.
Hospital. Her mother. She was going to see her mother.
Michael strode into the room and immediately her tension eased and her breathing settled.
Meeting him had changed her world. She never felt less when she was with Michael. He made her feel interesting, important and confident in her decisions. He made her feel like success.
Her husband, her little girl, her big sister—they were her world. She’d made the family she’d always wanted.
“Daddy! Hug, hug, hug.” Tab shot out of her chair and sprinted across to him. He caught her and swung her high in the air.
“How’s my girl?” His gaze found Ella’s, and she knew that although he was holding Tab, he was talking to her. He’d seen her message and immediately come home. He knew how difficult this would be for her.
And she wouldn’t talk about it in front of Tab.
“I’m doing okay.”
He shifted Tab onto his hip and held out his other arm to Ella.
She went to him immediately, and he curled her into him and held her tightly. The feeling of warmth and closeness made everything hurt a little less.
“Samantha called me.” She leaned her head against his chest, feeling the rough texture of his wool coat against her cheek. It felt cold, as if winter had crept into the fibers and settled there. “I have to go into the city.”
“I saw your message. Don’t go. It will upset you and I don’t want that.”
Tab stroked her hair. “Are you sad, Mommy?”
“No. How could I be sad when I have you and Daddy?” She kissed her daughter. “Go fetch the painting we did for Daddy.” She waited for Tab to leave the room and then turned to Michael. “I have to go.”
“You don’t have to, Ella, but I know you will.” He hung up his coat, loosened his tie and undid his top button. He sounded tired. “If that’s what you want, then I’m coming with you.”
“What? No way!”
“I love you. I want to support you.”
Her heart was hammering. He couldn’t come with her. And she couldn’t tell him the reason.
“Someone has to look after Tab. I’m not taking her to a hospital.”
“We’ll get a sitter.”
“We’ve never left her with a sitter. It’s fine. I don’t need you to be there.”
He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “You don’t want me to be there. What I don’t understand is why.”
“I just—it will be difficult. With my mother, it always is.”