Her Name Was Annie Read online

Page 16


  I like to think we could’ve withstood the war and distance between us and have been happy together once I returned, but fate had other plans for us. Frankie and I had a young love. The kind that changes over time, morphing into either a greater respect for one another or if it goes the wrong way, a total disdain. I will always have the greatest respect for her for everything she went through in her young life, and the sacrifice she made by giving up someone she loved so much.

  I hope you had a happy life. I hope you got to experience the love Frankie and I shared so long ago, at least once in your life. If you lost it like I did, I hope it transformed into a mutual admiration and not a regret. There should never be regrets where love is concerned, only contentment that it once existed. It’s something that can be experienced over and over again, even when we think that love has faded and the person we held so dear is gone—whether it’s in a song, a photograph, or a place that reminds you of that special someone. Hold on to those things and don’t ever let them go. That’s what kept me going for all these years.

  You will always be the greatest token of the love I had with Frankie. I know I don’t deserve the title of father, nor would I ever take it from the man who raised you. But as I write this letter, it gives me great satisfaction to know that I helped create such a beautiful, strong woman. Even if I only got to meet you from a distance and a few badly shot photographs. I will take those memories with me as well as the memories of the love I had for Frankie. For the first time in my life I feel at peace, and I have you to thank for that—a child I never met who is now a beautiful woman.

  I have been in touch with my attorney, who will be contacting you regarding a trust I have set up for your daughter. That’s the least I could do for never getting the opportunity to know my only child and grandchild. I’m also hoping that you and Frankie have the relationship she yearned for all those years ago when she said goodbye to you. Maybe with your help, she’ll be able to get the justice she so deserves against my brother for being forced to make that painful farewell.

  I’ll end this letter not with a goodbye of my own because I feel as if we never got to even say hello. Instead, I end it with this: It is the greatest honor of my life to know that a part of me will carry on in you, your daughter, and her future children. Even though we never met, I will always hold a special place in my heart for…a baby named Annie, the girl named Francesca, and the woman named Stephanie.

  Yours truly,

  Tommy Cavlan

  Tears spilled from my eyes onto the paper, smearing some of the ink. I placed the letter back on the nightstand, smoothing out the paper, allowing it to dry and preserve the heartfelt words placed upon it. How I wished I could’ve met him, at least once, instead of watching him take his life. So much guilt, so much sorrow, but through it all there was so much love. That was so apparent through his words. He never stopped loving Francesca. Even when she wasn’t there with him physically, she always remained in his heart. Such a beautiful, tragic love story and in a weird way, I was happy to be part of it. His final request loomed heavily on my mind—justice for Francesca for what had been taken from her. In that plea, I also sensed another hidden desire—justice for himself for the life he could’ve had.

  Chapter 30

  FRANCESCA’S FACE ON the screen of my phone was a welcoming sight. Kara had decided to opt out of our weekend FaceTime call we had planned. She wanted to meet Francesca for the first time in person. I respected her wishes and Francesca did as well when I explained it to her. We took each other on a virtual tour of our homes, drank a cup of coffee together, and laughed like old friends sitting in the same kitchen and not miles apart. It wasn’t until midway into our chat that I brought up the letter, reading it to her through tears on both our parts.

  “He was always so good with words.” She smiled. “I swear, he could’ve become a famous writer.” She wiped her eyes and placed her focus back on the camera. “So there you have it. You were a product of love. You were wanted so desperately by me, and you would’ve been wanted by him as well. If it weren’t for—”

  “His brother,” I whispered.

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “I know this may be none of my business, and you can tell me so if I’m overstepping. Did you think any more about confronting his brother?”

  She wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug and closed her eyes. “Oh, I have. More times than I can remember. But what good would it do? Who would believe me? I mean, look how they’re ripping up that poor woman who’s accusing him of it now, and that was only a few years ago. Could you imagine the field day they’d have with me, popping out of the woodwork almost fifty years later?”

  I understood her doubts and fears completely, but at the same time, she had a right to have her voice heard, no matter how much time had passed. “Yes, but you have proof.”

  “No. I never reported to the police. My parents didn’t believe me, and the last thing they wanted was a scandal brought on by their daughter. Plus, they didn’t have DNA back then like they do now.”

  “You have the letter you wrote to Tommy. The one he gave back to you. It spells everything out.” Her eyes widened as if she suddenly remembered it. “Even if they don’t believe you—he knows the truth. Let him know that you never forgot what he did to you. I’ll be there every step of the way if you want me to be.”

  She softened her gaze and stared at me with gratitude. “Oh, Stephanie. You don’t know how much that means to me. You’ve really given me a lot to think about, but I think I just need to find the courage to do it.”

  “Well, just know if you do, I’ll be here if you need me.”

  “I will be forever grateful to Tommy for finding you.” She smiled.

  “Me too.” I smiled back.

  We changed the topic of conversation, ending the call with Francesca’s tentative plans to visit in February when I had a few days off from school. I found that I always hated when Christmas was over and a new year began, but this year, I was actually looking forward to ushering in the new year. I had so much to look forward to. The front door slammed and the familiar clomping of Max’s paws hitting the hardwood floor came closer. Kara was right behind him with her pink nose almost matching her pink jacket.

  “So how does Max rate as a running buddy?” I asked.

  “Pretty good if I wanted to stop every ten seconds to lift my leg.” She took off her earmuffs and placed them on the counter. “It’s freezing out there!”

  “That’s why I’m inside with my coffee.” I grinned.

  “So how’d your FaceTime call go?” she asked, taking a seat next to me after fixing her coffee.

  “Oh, it was fun. She’s possibly making a trip out here in February.”

  “That’s cool,” Kara replied. “I’m really happy for you, Mom. You seem a lot happier than you’ve been in a while.”

  “What? Did I seem unhappy before?”

  “No. It’s just…I don’t know. Maybe more like lonely than unhappy.”

  “I am not lonely at all, Kara.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged, not seeming too convinced.

  “I want to show you something.” I slid the letter I had read to Francesca earlier across the table to Kara. She stared down at the envelope, then back at me.

  “Is this from your—”

  “My biological father,” I finished.

  She pulled the letter out with the same wariness as I had when I first opened it. Her eyes glazed over as she read on. I reached for a napkin and handed it to her when the first teardrop fell onto the table. “Oh, Mom. This is so sad.”

  “It is.” I sighed. “The whole thing is so tragic.”

  “Is she going to approach his brother about what he did?”

  I shrugged. “I’m hoping she will, but that’s got to be her choice.”

  “I hope she does,” Kara whispered, gazing down at the letter once again. “What he said about love...it describes you and Dad perfectly.” She raised her head, her blue eyes beaming
into mine. It amazed me how perceptive she was because I had thought the same exact thing. “What’s going on with the two of you?” she asked, taking me a little by surprise.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, feeling my guard going up.

  “I don’t know. It seemed like you guys were getting closer and now, it’s like you don’t even talk anymore. If you ask me, he seems just as lonely as you. You know he’s not seeing anyone right now. Don’t you?”

  “Why would I care if he was seeing someone?” I snapped.

  She shook her head and let out a defeated breath. “I don’t know.”

  “So, you never told me. Is he finally accepting the whole Ian situation a little better?” I decided to keep the focus on Jack, but shift it away from me.

  “He’s tolerating it at best, but I don’t think he’s very happy about it.”

  “Well, how are things going between the two of you?”

  Her face brightened up and then broke out in a huge smile. “Good. He’s really a great guy, Mom.”

  “I’m happy for you.” I reached over and grabbed her hand.

  “I was wondering, what are you planning for Christmas? Only because Ian asked me to go to his parents’ house with him on Christmas Day. They live a few hours away in Delaware.”

  “Wow! Meeting his parents already?” What I wanted to add was: and on Christmas of all days. The day you’ve spent with me every single year since you were born. But I held my tongue, trying to hold true to the lecture I’d given Jack the other night—she was an adult, free to live her life the way she wanted. Although, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel as if I had just been punched in the gut. This was what my future held, sharing my daughter for holidays and important events with some other family out there whom I never met. “That’s fine, if that’s what you’ve got planned.” I conceded with a smile.

  “If you’d rather have me here, I can tell him I can meet them another time.”

  “No, don’t be silly. We can celebrate Christmas another day.”

  “I was thinking maybe we celebrate on Christmas Eve.”

  “You always spend Christmas Eve with your father.”

  “Not this year.” She lifted her coffee cup to her mouth and took a sip, leaving me in agonizing suspense as to why she was breaking tradition. Was it because she was still harboring some animosity toward him over Ian? “He’s going to Florida to Grandma and Grandpop’s,” she finished after swallowing her coffee.

  “Oh.” The resentment that was building up inside of me toward Ian, in thinking he was the reason she wasn’t spending time with either of her parents, faded away with Kara’s explanation. “Then let’s plan on Christmas Eve. I’ll invite Pop over and see if Aunt Julie wants to stop over after her shift at the hospital.” My best friend, Julie, was the closest person I had to a sister up until a few weeks ago. Her son was in the Army and stationed in Germany. Her ex-husband married the much younger woman he left her for and was now repopulating with a whole new family. She was a nurse who would always take on extra holiday shifts to avoid being reminded that she was alone. I sighed, wondering if that would be me in the upcoming years.

  “That would be great! I’d love Aunt Jules to meet Ian!”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll celebrate Christmas on the twenty-fourth instead of the twenty-fifth.” I forced a believable smile, knowing this was the first of many concessions I was going to need to make in the future, so I may as well just grin and bear it.

  _______________

  Our Christmas Eve celebration went well. In fact it was actually very nice, proving I was adaptable to change. Kara and Ian had left early in the morning on Christmas Day to head to his parents’, and I headed to my father’s for his annual Christmas breakfast. At least some things remained the same. We spent the morning sipping on mimosas and reminiscing about Christmases past. It was bittersweet to think the woman who was the topic of most of the conversation, the one who made every Christmas special, was no longer here. I missed her so much, especially around the holidays. Every year it seemed as if Christmas lost a little more magic, and I hated it.

  I arrived home later that afternoon, changed into my pajamas, then parked myself on the couch with Max and a corny Christmas movie. Kara had texted me, letting me know she had arrived safely and that Ian’s parents were really nice.

  “Of course they are,” I whispered to myself as I stared at her text. “Perfect son. Perfect parents. Just like in this stupid movie,” I continued. Max lifted his head and stared up at me in confusion. “I really need to stop this, Max,” I said as I placed my phone on the table. “I sound like a jealous child.” Max lowered his head, letting out a slight groan that I interrupted as, quit your complaining, lady in dog language.

  I pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over me. Max cuddled closer, and it was only a matter of minutes before I was drifting off to sleep. I sat up at the sound of the doorbell, so out of it that it took me a few moments to remember where I was and even what day it was. The sun was just beginning to set outside my window. I had only dozed off for forty-five minutes, but it felt more like forty-five hours by the way I was feeling. The doorbell rang once again, and I hopped off the couch, stammering over to the door like I had a little too much to drink. “Who is it?” I called.

  “Jack,” he replied from the other side.

  I opened the door and he stepped inside. “What are you doing here? I thought Kara said you were in Florida.”

  “I was. I left this morning. I had an emergency meeting at work.”

  “On Christmas?” I shook my head in disgust. How could I have forgotten about all the emergencies Jack had with that job whether it be on holidays, birthdays, vacations. He always stopped whatever he was doing to be at their beck and call. So him flying home from Florida on Christmas Day was like any other day for him.

  “I wanted to surprise Kara and give her gift to her.”

  “Oh. She’s not here.”

  “What?”

  “She was invited to Ian’s parents’ house.”

  “She ditched you on Christmas for people she doesn’t even know?”

  I sensed frustration in his tone.

  “No, she didn’t ditch me. We discussed it and we ended up celebrating Christmas last night instead. It’s fine,” I reassured him. “Did you want some coffee or a beer?”

  “Coffee is good.” Part of me wondered if he was just accepting my invitation because he felt sorry for me being left alone on Christmas.

  “You’re in your pajamas awfully early, aren’t you?” he remarked once we reached the kitchen and I turned on the light.

  I shrugged. “Not like I was going anywhere or expecting company.”

  “That was just wrong of Kara to leave you on Christmas.”

  “Jack, she didn’t leave me.” I stretched my arm, reaching for the coffee filters on the top shelf of the cabinet. After prepping the coffee in the machine, I took a seat on the stool next to him at the kitchen island while it brewed. “Are you upset that she’s not here or are you upset because of who she’s with?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Steph, you know Kara’s track record with guys. They do something to annoy her or she gets bored with them after a week. I just don’t think it’s right that she’s running off to spend Christmas with his family when they’ve only been together for a minute.”

  “Actually she’s known him for almost a month now, and…I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but I think he’s her one. Call it mother’s intuition, but I really do.”

  He threw his head back and let out an agitated huff. “Let’s just hope your instinct is wrong.”

  “Come on, Jack. He’s a great kid.”

  He rubbed his hand down the side of his face and gazed straight ahead, deep in thought. The same way he always would when he was agitated by something. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”

  I knew from years of experience to end it there. It was something he’d have
to come to terms with on his own. He would eventually because he loved Kara too much not to. “How are your parents? Is your dad doing better?” I switched topics.

  “Yeah. He’s back to being his old ornery self.”

  “That’s good news.” I smiled.

  “What’s the latest with you and your newfound family?”

  “I spoke with Francesca the other day. Then I texted back and forth with her and Jennifer today to wish them a merry Christmas.” I looked down at the floor, debating if I should share the letter with Jack. It only took me a few seconds to make up my mind. “I want to show you something. I’ll be right back.” I sprang from my seat and headed up the stairs, out of breath when I returned to the kitchen with the letter in hand. After placing it in Jack’s hand, I decided to prepare our coffee while he read it. He was still staring at the paper when I turned back around, holding our coffee cups.

  “This had to be really hard for you to read.” His eyes shifted from the letter to me.

  “It was. I just wish he…” I shook my head. “That maybe I could’ve met him. I don’t know. I probably would’ve thought he was crazy at the time, not knowing any of the backstory or that I was even adopted for that matter. But it would’ve been nice just to hear what his voice sounded like. To see what he looked like up close and not lying on a table in a morgue. I received the letter from his lawyer the other day, asking me to contact him about the money he wants to leave Kara. I have yet to respond. I don’t feel right accepting anything from him. He was a stranger to us.”

  “Would you rather Kara, the person he intended it for, get it or his brother?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I guess you’re right.” I sighed. “I told Francesca that I’d be there for her if she wanted to confront his brother. That letter clearly states his wishes, not only for justice for Francesca but for himself as well. I kind of feel like I owe it to him to try and follow through with that request.”