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“I loved it there,” Olivia gushed. Then, she let out a small ooh of delight and pulled out a sage green sweaterdress. Spencer laughed—she’d just selected the same thing. Olivia blushed. “I always pick things that are this color green,” she admitted.
“Because it matches our eyes,” Spencer concluded.
“Exactly.” Olivia gazed at Spencer gratefully. Her expression seemed to say, I’m so glad I found you.
After shopping, they strolled slowly up Fifth Avenue. Olivia told Spencer that she’d recently married a wealthy man named Morgan Frick in a private ceremony in the Hamptons. “We’re leaving for a honeymoon to Paris tonight, in fact,” she said. “I have to catch a helicopter to his plane later. It’s at a private airport in Connecticut.”
“Tonight?” Spencer stopped, surprised. “Where’s your luggage?”
“Morgan’s driver is bringing it to the airport,” Olivia explained.
Spencer nodded, impressed. Morgan must be loaded if he had a driver and a private plane.
“That’s why it was so important that we meet today,” Olivia went on. “I’m going away for two weeks, and I couldn’t stand the idea of putting it off until I got back.”
Spencer nodded. She wasn’t sure if she would’ve been able to bear the suspense for two extra weeks either.
The accordion file under Olivia’s arm started to slip, and she stuck out her hip to catch it from spilling to the sidewalk. “Do you want me to take that for you?” Spencer asked. The folder would fit easily into Spencer’s oversize tote.
“Would you?” Olivia pushed it toward her gratefully. “Thanks. It’s driving me nuts. Morgan wanted me to bring the information about our new apartment so he could look it over.”
They turned down a side street, passing a row of beautiful brownstones. The parlor levels were lit up in golden light, and Spencer locked eyes with a big calico cat lazing in one of the front bay windows. She and Olivia fell silent, the only sound their clicking heels on the sidewalk. Gaps in conversation always made Spencer uneasy—she always worried that the awkwardness was some fault of hers—so she started to babble about her accomplishments. She’d scored a total of twelve goals this hockey season. She’d gotten the lead role in every school play since seventh grade. “And I have A’s in almost all my classes,” she boasted, and then realized her mistake. She winced and braced herself, certain of what was coming.
Olivia grinned. “That’s fantastic, Spencer! I’m so impressed.”
Spencer cautiously opened one eye. She’d expected Olivia to react the same way her mom would. “Almost all your classes?” she could practically hear Mrs. Hastings sneer. “Which class do you not have an A in? And why are they just A’s? Why aren’t they A-pluses?” And then Spencer would feel like shit for the rest of the day.
But Olivia wasn’t doing that. Who knew, if Olivia had kept Spencer, maybe she would’ve turned out differently. Maybe she wouldn’t be so OCD about her grades or feel so inferior around other people, always desperate to prove that she was good enough, worthy enough, lovable enough. She would’ve never met Ali. Ali’s murder would simply be another story in the newspaper.
“Why did you give me up?” Spencer blurted out.
Olivia stopped at the crosswalk, staring contemplatively at the tall buildings across the street. “Well…I was eighteen when I had you. Far too young to have a baby—I’d just started college. I agonized about my decision. When I found out that a wealthy family in suburban Philadelphia was adopting you, I felt like that was the right choice. But I’ve always wondered about you.”
The light changed. Spencer skirted around a woman walking a pug dressed in a white cable-knit sweater as they crossed. “Do my parents know who you are?”
Olivia shook her head. “I screened them on paper, but we didn’t meet. I wanted everything to be anonymous, and so did they. I cried after I delivered you, though, knowing I had to give you up.” She smiled sadly, then touched Spencer’s arm. “I know I can’t make up for sixteen years in one visit, Spencer. But I’ve thought about you all your life.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. That’s cheesy, right?”
Spencer’s eyes welled with tears. “No,” she said quickly. “Not at all.” How long had she been waiting for someone to say these things to her?
At the corner of Sixth Avenue and 12th Street, Olivia abruptly stopped. “There’s my new apartment.” She pointed to the top floor of a luxury apartment building. Beneath it was a quaint market and a home accessories store. A limo pulled up to the entrance, and a woman in a mink stole got out and whisked through the revolving doors.
“Can we go up?” Spencer squealed. The place seemed so glamorous, even from the outside.
Olivia checked the Rolex that dangled from her wrist. “I’m not sure we have enough time before our reservations. Next visit, though. I promise.”
Spencer shrugged off her disappointment, not wanting Olivia to think she was bratty. Olivia hurried Spencer to a small, cozy restaurant a few blocks away. The room smelled of saffron, garlic, and mussels, and was packed with people. Spencer and Olivia sat down at a table, the candlelight flickering on their faces. Olivia immediately ordered a bottle of wine, instructing the waiter to pour some in Spencer’s glass too. “A toast,” she said, raising her glass to Spencer’s. “To many more visits like this.”
