“Michael mentioned that. He told me that our father had kept apprised of you and your doings for years.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“Didn’t you know that?”
“No. We left New York just before my mother died. I didn’t have contact with your father after that.” Gabriel ground his teeth. “Not a phone call, not a letter, nothing.”
“I’m so sorry. I assumed there was some contact between you and Dad, based on what Michael said.” Kelly sipped her wine thoughtfully. “He told me that Dad was aware of the family who adopted you, and that he knew you went to Princeton and Harvard. Apparently, you were a topic of conversation between them over the years.”
“If he was interested enough to discuss my life with his lawyer, why wasn’t he interested enough to pick up the telephone? Or to write a letter?”
Kelly looked down at the tablecloth. “I think I can shed some light on that. Dad was the kind of man who made a decision and stuck to it.” She lifted her face, surveying Gabriel’s body language with concern. “But I’m worried this conversation is upsetting you.”
“I’m here for answers,” he clipped. “I knew they weren’t going to be pleasant.”
“Yes, of course. So you knew Dad?”
“I met him, yes.”
“But you grew up in Pennsylvania, after you left New York?” she prompted.
“I was fortunate that when my mother died, a family connected with the hospital agreed to take me in.”
“And your mother’s family?”
He grimaced and said nothing.
“I don’t mean to pry. But it’s something I wondered. I met your mother a few times, and she seemed to be close to her parents. So I wondered why you didn’t go and live with them.”
“My grandfather died before I was born. My grandmother became estranged with my mother over the circumstances surrounding my conception. When my mother died, my grandmother told social services they couldn’t take me. My adoptive mother contacted my father, but he disowned me. I would have ended up in foster care were it not for the Clarks.” Gabriel’s expression was shuttered.
“I’m so sorry.” Kelly leaned forward in her chair. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”
“You knew my mother?” He swiftly changed the subject.
“She was one of the secretaries in my father’s office. She was young and pretty, and whenever I went to visit my dad, she was always kind to me. I liked her very much. Around the time you were born or maybe shortly thereafter, my parents had a series of fights. And then everything calmed down. But a few years later, my mother left my father and moved in with my grandparents on Long Island. Six months later, my parents reconciled and she moved back to Manhattan. I’m speculating, of course, but I’m guessing the separation had something to do with you. One of the things I overheard my mother yelling about was ‘that child.’ Of course, Audrey and I had no idea who she was talking about. We assumed they were fighting over one of us.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together. “How old were you when they separated?”
“Um, let me see.” Kelly looked up at the ceiling. “I’d say twenty-three? Thereabouts.”
“I would have been nine. That was when we left New York.”
“My mother probably gave Dad an ultimatum and that’s why your mother decided to leave.”
“Did you ever speak to your mother about any of this?”
Kelly’s eyes widened in horror. “Absolutely not. My parents fought, but they never told us what their fights were about. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask Mother about it, even as an adult.”
“Can you tell me anything else about my mother?”
Kelly regarded their place settings thoughtfully. “She was beautiful and very sweet. She was young and full of life. My mother was a bit of a social climber and she could be very difficult. I don’t know if you realize this, but the age difference between your parents would have been considerable. Dad was born in 1936. Your mother must have been twenty years younger.”
“I gathered that. What can you tell me about him?”
“I loved Dad, but he worked a lot. I have happy memories of going for walks with him in the city and having pancakes with him on Saturday morning. He was a pretty good father, even if he wasn’t a very good husband.”
“But your mother loved him.”
“Of course.” Kelly sounded offended. “He was handsome and charming. He had a great sense of humor and he was very accomplished. He just happened to be a philanderer. As surprising as it may sound, he adored my mother.” At this, Kelly’s eyes watered. She was quiet for a moment as she fought to control her emotions.
“I see this is upsetting for you, too. I’m sorry.” Gabriel’s tone was gentle.
Kelly waved a Kleenex in the air before drying her eyes.
“It was a shock when we found out he’d had a mistress and that we had a brother. Audrey hasn’t quite gotten over it.”
“And you?”
Kelly put on a brave face.
“I try to practice what I tell my patients and their parents. You can’t control all of life’s circumstances, but you can control your reactions to them. I could stay angry at my father for cheating on my mother. And I could be angry with my mother for being so hard-hearted that she kept me apart from my only brother. Or I could choose to forgive them, and myself, and try to make things better.”
Her eyes fell to her hands, which were resting in her lap. “I always wanted a brother. I just didn’t expect him to be so young.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m sorry my mother and your father were . . . involved.” Gabriel’s expression softened in sympathy.
Her eyes met his. “Thank you, Gabriel. Don’t the strangest sort of miracles come out of the worst of circumstances? Here we sit, after all these years. Knowing Dad, as I did, I’m sure he must have cared for your mother. And you. He wouldn’t have watched you from afar or included you in his estate if he didn’t.”
“I’m not sure.” Gabriel pushed his meal aside.
“I can’t imagine him fighting with my mother over something he didn’t care about. And it was no secret in our family that he always wanted a son. But my mother didn’t want another child.”
Kelly’s head bent so she could stare at her dinner plate. She’d barely touched her food.