Chapter 5
“You never asked me,” I said.
Mom shifted her purse from one hand to the other.
“You were in terrible pain. You wouldn’t let Vanessa visit for weeks.”
“I was having surgeries. The doctors limited visitors.”
“You could have sent her a message.”
“I did. I told her I loved her.”
Mom looked away.
I remembered dictating that message to Renee from my hospital bed. My hands had been wrapped, and speaking hurt. I had asked Renee to send it to Mom so she could show Vanessa.
“Did you give it to her?” I asked.
Mom did not answer.
“Did you tell Vanessa I loved her?”
“I was trying to give her space.”
My stomach turned.
“She thought I wished she had run back into a burning building.”
“She was blaming herself. I wanted her to understand you were upset.”
“You decided how I felt, then made her live with it.”
Mom’s eyes filled. “Both my daughters were hurting. I didn’t know how to help either of you.”
“You could have told us the truth.”
I opened the door wider because I needed air, not because I wanted her inside.
“I can’t talk to you tonight.”
“Claire—”
“Please go.”
After she left, I called Renee. She searched her old messages while I waited. Then she found the one I had dictated.
Please tell Vanessa I’m glad she’s safe. None of this is her fault. I love her.
Renee had sent it to Mom the morning after my second surgery.
“Would you send me a copy?” I asked.
“It’s already on its way.”
I stared at the timestamp when it arrived. Four years of distance had grown around a message Mom never delivered.
I forwarded it to Vanessa.
She called immediately.
“I never saw this,” she said.
“I know.”
“Why would Mom keep it from me?”
“I asked her. She said she thought I was upset with you.”
Vanessa was breathing unevenly. “I thought if I came to your hospital room, you would look at me and see what happened to your face.”
“I was afraid of you seeing me in pain. That’s different.”
“You should have told me.”
“I tried. Then I should have tried again.”
For the first time in years, we both allowed an answer that was not entirely one person’s fault.
Vanessa told me she had avoided visiting after I came home because she thought I hated her. Each time I invited her over, Mom had said I was being polite. Each time Vanessa canceled, I thought she could not bear to look at me.
“We believed her instead of each other,” Vanessa said.
“Yes.”
“I still said those things about the photographs.”
“You did.”
“I don’t know how to make that right.”
“I don’t either. We can start by not pretending you didn’t say them.”
Vanessa whispered, “Okay.”
On Saturday, the day she would have married Ethan, I stayed home in the morning. The sky was clear. I kept imagining the ceremony room sitting empty.
At noon, Ethan sent me a message.
I’m going to see Vanessa. We’ll talk. I wanted you to know I’m all right.
I replied, Thank you.
Renee came over in the afternoon. We made lunch, and I showed her the old hospital message.
“She never gave it to Vanessa,” I said.
Renee looked heartbroken. “I should have sent it straight to her.”
“You didn’t know.”
“Neither did you.”
We sat quietly.
Then the doorbell rang.
Vanessa stood outside without makeup, her hair pulled into a loose knot. She was holding the cream invitation.
“Ethan and I talked,” she said.
“Come in.”
She sat on the edge of my couch. She did not look around for the silver gift box. She watched my face, then made herself meet my eyes.
“He said he wants to marry me someday,” she said. “He doesn’t want to do it until I can tell the truth when I’m afraid.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Scared. Relieved.”
She turned the invitation over.
“I came to apologize for what I said at your door. I was afraid the wedding pictures would make people talk about the fire. I wanted one day when I could forget it.”
“I understand wanting that.”
“I made you pay for it.”
“Yes.”
She pressed her fingers against the paper.
“The photographer never told me your burns were hard to edit. She said she would not edit someone’s face to make me comfortable. I lied about what she said.”
I had suspected it after seeing her email. Hearing Vanessa admit it mattered.
“I’m glad you told me.”
“I don’t expect you to pay for another wedding. I’ll repay what you lost on Willowmere.”
“The contract was mine. I signed the cancellation.”
“You lost money because of what I did. Let me repay it.”
I considered. “Lena said I might recover some if the new booking covers costs. We can discuss what remains when I know the amount.”
Vanessa nodded.
She stood to leave, then looked at me again.
“Did I ever thank you for coming into the building?”
“You did when I woke up.”
“I said it because everyone told me to. I was still too frightened to understand what you’d done.” Tears ran down her face. “Thank you for finding me, Claire. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to disappear afterward.”
I could not answer immediately.
“I’m glad you came out,” I said at last.
She began to cry harder. Renee brought her water and sat with us. None of us rushed to make the afternoon easy.
When Vanessa left, she took the invitation with her. I let her.
A few minutes later, Ethan called.
“She told me she went to see you,” he said.
“She did.”
“Was it okay?”
“It was honest.”
“I’d like to talk with you too. There’s something about the venue payments I discovered while checking our wedding account.”
I gripped the phone.
May you like
“What?”
“Your mother told Vanessa you offered to pay because you felt guilty about the fire.”
