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She sees Wren first, but as her gaze shifts to me, her smile drops and her face drains of color. “Oh my God.” She exhales shakily and reaches out.
I take a quick step back, and she presses her fingers to her lips. “You’re so much like him. It’s almost like looking at a ghost. I’m so sorry, Lincoln.”
I slip my hands into my pockets because I don’t know what else to do with them. “You know who I am.”
She smiles sadly. “Of course I know who you are. I wasn’t sure if Fredrick had a chance to tell you before he passed. We’d talked about it—”
“Tell me what?” I snap.
Her face falls again. “About him and me. About Hope.”
“He didn’t tell me. I found the penthouse, and it led me here.”
“Oh.” Her fingers go to her lips again. “This isn’t how he wanted you to find out.”
“Find out what exactly? That he had two totally separate families? How exactly does one bring that up with their kid? ‘Hey, just wanted you to know that I’ve been cheating on your mother for our entire marriage, and by the way, you have a sister I never told you about, but it’s cool, right?’”
Wren squeezes my hand, likely because my voice is rising and we’re standing on my father’s mistress’s front porch, drawing attention.
“I understand you’re upset, Lincoln, and you have every right to be. If you’d like to come in, I’ll explain my side of the story as best I can.” She steps back, inviting us in despite my outburst, which tells me a lot about her relationship with my dad, I suppose.
I came here for answers, and she’s apparently willing to provide them, so I accept the invitation to come inside.
Pictures line the fireplace mantle. Most of them are of Jacqueline and Hope, but more than one include my father. I pick one up, noting that they look very much like a real family, and my father’s smile seems genuine.
“I’m sure this is quite a shock for you. I think it would be best if I started from the beginning.” Jacqueline motions to the couch.
“That would be good.” There’s nothing normal or comfortable about this situation for either of us.
Jacqueline clasps her hands in her lap and gives me a small smile. It’s clear my presence unnerves her, possibly because she’s right about me looking like my father. “I met Fredrick in the final year of my undergrad while he was finishing his MBA. We had similar study habits and were often in the library at the same time. When we first started talking, it was innocent enough, and while I found him attractive, he was dating Gwendolyn, so I kept my distance.”
“Something obviously changed.” I glance at the pictures of Hope lining the fireplace mantle.
“It did.” She takes a sip of her water. “I had no intention of breaking them up. I never would’ve pursued your father if he was in a happy, committed relationship. But one evening I ran into Fredrick, and he confided that his parents had set him up with Gwendolyn. They both came from influential families who were intent on pushing them together, but it wasn’t what he wanted. It was difficult, though. There were expectations for both of them.”
I think about the way my parents always were with each other: formal, cold, businesslike. It never felt or looked like love. “But there was something between you?”
“Initially, we were just friends. I admit I was enamored, but I tried to keep it platonic. At least until Fredrick broke up with Gwendolyn. He didn’t want to hurt her, and I didn’t come from the same kind of affluence, which was an issue in itself.” She clasps her hands in her lap and smiles sadly. “We kept it quiet and tried to be discreet, but eventually she found out and confronted me. It was … unpleasant. By then, I was in love with your father, and I wasn’t so willing to walk away.”
“And you didn’t, obviously, even after he married my mother.” I can’t keep the disapproval from my voice.
“It wasn’t so simple as walking away. A few months after Fredrick and I started seeing each other, Gwendolyn announced that she was pregnant with Fredrick’s baby. She had tests and proof, or at least that’s what it looked like. I was devastated, Fredrick was … beside himself, but he was nothing if not an honorable man who intended to do the honorable thing. So I did what I thought was right; I stepped back and he married Gwendolyn. It was all very rushed. They eloped, and later had an official wedding. I was heartbroken, but I didn’t want to be a home-wrecker.”
I bite back the scathing words I want to say, because based on what I’m seeing here, she was one anyway.
