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"Actually..." Beverly cleared her throat. "Actually, he did."
"All right, maybe I'm overstating it. He sent a couple of postcards, I remember, but—"
"He sent you many letters. And gifts."
Kathryn's eyes grew wide. "What?"
"I kept them from you," her mother said in a hushed voice. "I still have them all, if you want to see them."
For a moment, Kathryn was too stunned to speak. "But—but why would you do such a thing?" she finally asked.
"I told myself it was because I wanted to keep him from being a bad influence on you." Beverly gave a deep sigh. "I've thought about it a lot lately, ever since you were ill and I—I almost lost you, and I've decided that the truth was far less noble. I think I hid Trevor's letters to punish him for having left us."
"But you said it was your decision, that you wouldn't take him back when he wanted to come back—"
"I know. But that's how I thought of it, you see, that he'd left us by choosing to search for something that was missing inside him, to live a life he knew I despised." She looked at Kathryn and smiled faintly. "I know it's crazy, but that's how I loved your father, so deeply that for a long time, my emotions ruled me instead of my head. Does that make any sense?"
It made all kinds of sense to Kathryn, though it wouldn't have just a few months ago. But her time at Charon's Crossing had taught her a great deal about love so intense and deep that it could change the way you viewed life... even if that love hadn't been real.
"Kathryn?" Beverly's voice trembled. "Please, don't hate me. If you only knew how often I've regretted the lie..."
Kathryn clasped her mother's hands. "I don't hate you." Tears stung behind her eyelids. "I just wish I'd known... I mean, he must have died, th
inking I'd never answered his letters because I didn't love him."
"No. No, I told him the truth, just before he had the accident. He called me, God only knows why, and he asked how you were and before I knew it, I told him you were fine, no thanks to him or to his letters and all the presents he'd sent over the years because I'd never let you know about them." She gave a strangled laugh. "Lord, he was so angry! We screamed at each other over that phone, just the way we had in the old days, and then he stopped yelling and said he missed me something awful and he was going to come and see us both."
"But he never had the chance."
"No, he never did." Beverly sighed. "So you see, darling, it wasn't so strange that Trevor left you Charon's Crossing. He probably thought that old house was wonderfully romantic, the perfect final gift to leave the daughter he loved."
Kathryn nodded. She knew better than to try and speak. Her throat was so tightly constricted that it hurt.
"Of course," Beverly said with a little smile, "he was as wrong about that as he'd been about most other things in his life. The house wasn't romantic at all, it was a miserable ruin."
"Maybe," Kathryn said in a choked whisper, "but I was happy there."
"Nonsense," Beverly said quickly. "You thought you were happy there."
"That's what I meant. Mother, stop worrying. I'm just a little edgy today, that's all. I guess it's the prospect of that interview tomorrow morning."
"I know the perfect stress-reducer." Beverly grinned and looped her arm around her daughter's waist. "How's about we go someplace down and dirty for supper? That diner, down near the river, maybe. How's that sound?"
"It sounds terrific," Kathryn said, hoping she sounded more eager than she felt.
"And first thing tomorrow, you'll phone Dr. Whalen, yes? Just to touch bases, darling, that's all."
Kathryn nodded. "Of course."
* * *
But she didn't call the psychiatrist, not the next day or any of the days that followed.
How could she, without admitting that she was obviously slipping backwards after so many weeks of progress?
Matthew was constantly in her thoughts. She had begun dreaming of him again, too. She'd hear him whispering her name, feel the sweet brush of his lips against hers, and then she'd wake up, weeping quietly in the night, reaching out for him even though she knew it was impossible for him to be there.
Tell stuff like that to Dr. Whalen and she was liable to find herself in a genteel rubber room.
