Hello, Again (Book 2)

Greenfield

I had a gut feeling it was a bad idea to get behind the wheel, but I didn't know how bad until Mom decided to check the car manual when we were pulling into the driveway of the house.

"That light shouldn't be blinking, Erland," she scolded, opening the hatch. "Look at the dust on here! It's like you've never bothered to read it."

"I'll look at it later," I grumbled. I put the car in park, but the yellow light that had come up still didn't go away. Once glance at Mom and I froze.

She was staring at a yellowed piece of paper, folded so many times that the creases had become fuzzy, face pale. "What's this?" The paper crinkled as she opened it.

"It's a letter from Bella, Mom. Don't read it." I tried to snatch it from her, reaching across the console, but she was already outside the car. Scrambling to turn the car off, I launched out after her.

Mom didn't stop until she fumbled at the front stoop with the keys. Her eyes were still locked on the paper, roving over the delicate lettering, that she couldn't unlock the front door.

My heart drummed in my ears. I fished in my pocket for my phone—darn, I left it in the car. I couldn't call Bella now to have her come, or at least hear her voice for some advice.

"This is my letter, Erland." Mom's voice trembled.

I unlocked the door and opened it, throwing a glance across the yard at the neighbor's bright windows casting a golden glow on our lawn. "Let's talk inside."

She stepped in as if in the daze, and I led her into the kitchen. My mind whirred as I helped her find a seat. How much would she want to know? How much could I keep hidden? Then, another thought smacked into me—how much more could I learn from the fountain of information itself?

I made some chamomile tea in Mom's purple mug. She still hadn't lowered her gaze from the paper, her fingers tracing her own signature.

"Where did you get this?" Her voice was hoarse. "Did Jona—Did he come to see you?"

"A girl gave it to me," I answered. She put the letter down against the counter, but she didn't move to take the tea. I went on, and told her about Grace revealing her identity. I started to insist that Katherine shouldn't know, but Mom cut me off.

"A daughter? How old is she?" Her green eyes scanned the letter again, as if in pain.

"Fourteen." I studied Mom's expression, which softened somewhat in relief. "She has a few siblings."

"Have you met them?"

"No." And I don't want to.

Mom's hands finally wrapped around the tea mug. When she brought it to her lips, I took my chance.

"Mom, why didn't you say anything about Kat's biological father before? Gramps knew, and he hated Kat for it. Dad... Dad wasn't nice about it either," I added quietly, remembering how Kat would bundle herself up even in the middle of summer to hide her arms. How much had she spared me from?

"I—" Mom started, but she sealed her lips shut, shaking her head.

"Enough with the secrets, Mom."

She straightened a little at the sharpness in my tone, giving me a reproachful look—before she softened back into resignation. "I didn't mention it because it didn't matter. Jon didn't want anything to do with me after I told him about my pregnancy with Kat." She wrung her hands, her thumb tracing a train of silver scars down her wrist. "He never responded... I had assumed he hadn't gotten it."

But he had.

My throat tightened. How bad had it been for Mom? I couldn't imagine. And if this Jonathan Greenfield had abandoned Mom in the worst of it, then it would be best if he was away from Katherine forever. She didn't need another father to abandon her and cut her down just because of something she couldn't control.