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Sophie bowed her head. A moment of silence passed, and the intensity in the room seemed to double.
Katrina shifted forward and sat at the far corner of Sophie’s bed. “I realized something,” she continued, pushing herself. Sophie wondered if she’d talked to her therapist about this if she’d asked her for advice. “I never properly apologized for what happened in the hospital twenty-two years ago.”
Sophie was caught off guard. Although she’d been awash with memories from that horrible day, she hadn’t realized her mother had been, too.
“I am so sorry, Sophie,” Katrina whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry that I stormed into your hospital room, accusing you. You’d just gone through one of the most traumatic events of your life. And there I was, blaming you for it.” Katrina’s eyes filled with tears. It looked as though it pained her to maintain eye contact with Sophie. To her credit, she did.
“I have no explanation for it,” Katrina said. “I never properly dealt with my ‘daddy issues,’ so to speak. But those never should have extended onto our relationship, Sophie. I never should have let my anger toward my father affect my opinion of you.”
Sophie swallowed. Her throat felt thick.
“I wasn’t using,” Sophie offered. This was the first time she was able to tell the truth—the first time she’d been able to fully say just how painful it had been. “Maybe my body wasn’t healthy enough for a baby because of what I’d already done to it; maybe that was true. But I hadn’t done anything purposely to hurt that pregnancy. Back then, that pregnancy was all I was living for.” She coughed and blinked back tears. “I did everything I could think of. I drank smoothies. I got enough sleep. I went on long, slow walks on the beach. But still. That baby didn’t want to stick around.”
Katrina reached for Sophie’s leg and touched her knee tenderly. “Oh, honey. Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry.”
Sophie rubbed her eyes like a child.
“And I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Katrina’s voice was hardly a whisper. “When you were trying to tell me you weren’t happy with Jared. I’m sorry I pushed you.”
“Nobody forced me to marry Jared.”
“I know,” Katrina offered.
“And I really did love him. Or I thought I loved him.”
Katrina bent her head and studied her hand on Sophie’s knee. “I’ve thought about you in that house ever since he left. How painful it must be.”
This was something Sophie hadn’t told anyone—that she could sometimes hear Jared’s voice echoing through the halls as though he’d just returned from work. She often woke up from nightmares in which she was thirty-five and still trapped in a loveless, abusive marriage.
Katrina bit her lower lip and turned to view the living room, the crackling fire, and the paintings hanging from the walls. Sophie imagined she could see Katrina’s memories playing out on her irises. She imagined she could feel the depths of pain this place brought out in her.
“Maybe Ida told you I don’t want to sell anymore,” Katrina said.
“Why the change of heart?”
Katrina forced her eyes toward Sophie’s, and a shiver raced up and down her spine. “I want to give it to you.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped. The immense house around her seemed far bigger, with its echoing, empty rooms. The grounds rolled into the bluffs on either side and filtered out into a sparkling beach—all of which had belonged to Agatha and Calvin. It seemed impossible that it could ever be Sophie’s.
“I’m serious,” Katrina went on. “This old place is haunted for me. I walk the walls and remember my childhood of neglect and fear. And it’s never been comfortable. I’ve never been able to outgrow it. But you, Sophie? You don’t have those memories. You have your own. Your nightmares exist within that house you and Patrick live in. And I don’t want you to live in that space anymore. Not with that baby coming. You need a fresh start.”
Sophie had never seen such generosity echoed back in her mother’s eyes. The contrast to Katrina’s old ways was alarming. Sophie gaped at her as tears welled.
“You don’t have to do this,” Sophie said quietly.
“But I do,” Katrina assured her. “I’ll never stop blaming myself for all the trouble I caused you. For all the blame and anger I sent your way. But maybe, with this new era in this house, we can both start anew. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Sophie closed her eyes, and tears shot down her cheeks and dripped down her chin. She felt choked. “I was horrible to you,” she said through tears. “As a teenager, I lied to you. I got the best of you at every turn. And I made you feel like a horrible mother. I see it so clearly, especially now that I’m headed into motherhood again.”
Katrina furrowed her brow. “I should have done everything in my power to get you the help you needed. But I was weak. And I didn’t want to believe that what you were going through was all that serious. I wanted to believe you were just a bad kid. But you weren’t! You were spectacular. You were kind and compassionate with the world at your feet. Your only real problem was…” She tugged at her hair.
“Addiction.” Sophie finished for her. She’d grown accustomed to saying it aloud. To calling herself what she was. “I’m an addict.”
“But you’re also my daughter. You’re my Sophie,” Katrina said. “And I’ll love you to pieces till the day I die.”
Sophie and Katrina held the silence. Far down the hallway, in the kitchen, came the sound of Nellie and Frankie giggling about something and Ida speaking over them, telling them to quiet down. The sound was so familiar—a mother and two daughters—that it made Katrina and Sophie smile in spite of themselves.
Sophie patted the space beside her in bed, and Katrina scooted up and placed her head on Sophie’s shoulder. It was as though their roles had been reversed. One day—perhaps twentyyears from now—that would be so. Katrina might be too old to care for herself alone. Perhaps Grant would be gone.
