Surely her mother would have known that. “Mom?” Charlotte hated the little-girl sound to her voice and straightened her shoulders. She’d handle whatever happened next.
Unbelievably, Annie nodded. “It’s . . . it’s true. I couldn’t leave town and everything that was familiar. And I couldn’t bear to be separated from you, so we stayed here.”
“But why didn’t you at least tell me Dad wanted us? You knew he wanted you. You had that thought to keep you warm and comforted at night. Why didn’t you want the same for me?”
“I wanted what was best for you. But I’m ashamed to admit I did only what was best for me. The way you reacted when your father left and the way you kept reading up on all those Hollywood books, I was afraid of losing you if you knew. You always were more like your father than like me.” She sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I thought you’d go to him and leave me behind. Alone.”
Charlotte blinked. Feeling numb, she lowered herself onto the couch. “All these years, I blamed you.” She met her father’s gaze.
“I let you, honey.”
And he had. While her mother had allowed her child to suffer, her father had perpetuated the lie that he’d abandoned them both. “Why?”
He let out a groan. “At first, it was out of love and respect for your mother’s wishes. She was so afraid of losing you, I couldn’t help feeling she needed you more than I did. And how do you explain all this to a little girl?”
“And later?”
“You became an angry teen.” He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, shook his head, and began massaging. “On my trips home you wouldn’t have a civil conversation with me about the weather. Then you went to college, moved to New York, and were old enough to schedule your trips home so you could avoid mine.”
That was true enough, she acknowledged with sudden, unexpected sadness and guilt. Maybe there was enough blame to go around, she thought.
“I suppose I just didn’t try hard enough.”
Charlotte exhaled hard. “And I didn’t try at all.” The admission didn’t come easily.
“It’s my fault, but there’s an explanation. I’m not looking to pass the blame, but look. . . .” With shaking hands, Annie reached for her purse and pulled out a small vial of prescription medication. “Dr. Fallon said it sounds like I’ve had a severe case of depression.”
Hadn’t Charlotte approached the doctor sensing just such a possibility?
Annie blinked back tears. “Maybe I should have taken these before, but I didn’t realize I needed help. Your father said . . . he said Dr. Fallon had spoken with you and you thought there might be a problem. I didn’t know. I thought I had to feel this way. I thought it was normal. I mean, I’ve always felt this way.” Her voice broke, but she continued, “And I couldn’t bear to lose you too. I know I caused you pain because of my . . . illness, and I’m sorry.” Annie hugged Charlotte tight. “I’m so sorry.”
Her mother smelled like her mother—warm and soft and comforting. But there’d always been something childlike about Annie. She’d always seemed so fragile, Charlotte realized now. Even the librarian job was so perfect for her because of the silence and soft words spoken there.
“I’m not mad at you, Mom.” She was just off kilter and confused. The lump in her throat was so large it hurt, and she wasn’t sure how to absorb the truth.
Looking back, so much made sense, but only recently had Charlotte realized there was a more serious problem. She still had a hunch they were dealing with something more deeply rooted than mild depression, something akin to mental illness. Why else would a person keep her shades drawn and windows closed, preferring loneliness to other people’s company, including the husband she loved?
Why hadn’t any of them picked up on the signs before? Perhaps they’d all been too self-absorbed, Charlotte thought sadly.
“I think we should leave you alone to think about all this,” he said in the wake of Charlotte’s silence. He grabbed her mother’s hand. “Annie?”
She nodded. “I’m coming,” she said, before looking at Charlotte. “And again, I’m sorry.”
They started for the door together and Charlotte let them go.
She hoped and prayed that with the truth would come understanding and peace. But she needed time alone to understand the things she’d heard and decide how she felt now. How she’d feel when the numbness wore off.
Hours later, Charlotte settled herself in her bed, but kept her window shades open so she could stare out at the inky night sky. She was too wound up to sleep and thought maybe counting stars would help her relax. Unfortunately, her thoughts were running through her mind at a rapid pace. Talk about living an illusion, she thought. The father she thought hadn’t cared about her did.
Yet for a lifetime, Charlotte had modeled her behavior and treatment of men—men like Russell and travelers like Roman Chandler—on the abandonment lie perpetuated by her parents. But Russell Bronson wasn’t who Charlotte thought he was. He was selfish and had his faults, but he loved her mother. Charlotte had to give him some credit for that. Even if he could have done more to help both Annie and his daughter, he couldn’t sacrifice his entire life in the name of love.
Charlotte wouldn’t even ask that of Roman. Not anymore. Asking him to stay in Yorkshire Falls was as selfish as Russell had been in his own way. Roman deserved better from her.
It was ironic, really. Roman wasn’t the man she’d needed him to be. Charlotte had needed Roman to be the wanderer with no feelings, the love ’em and leave ’em bachelor who cared for no one but himself. She’d needed Roman to be all those things because it gave her an excuse to keep him at an emotional distance. To prevent herself from being hurt the way she thought her mother had been.
Now she just needed him.
She curled more deeply into the mattress, pulled up her covers, and yawned. Love had a way of casting aside all safety nets, Charlotte thought. And tomorrow she would make her own leap of faith with no guarantees of where she’d land.
At some point Charlotte must have dozed off, because the sun shining through the window woke her at dawn. She’d slept well for the first time in ages and opened her eyes to a rush of adrenaline she hadn’t expected. She showered, ate a cup of peach yogurt, then decided it was late enough to call Rick.