Page 55 of Finding Denver
She pours me a wine and Lewis a water as she drifts through the kitchen with ease, speed, and grace. She whips up sandwiches that have my nails almost pressing into the counter they look so delicious, and when she places a bowlof steaming beef soup in front of me, I’m tempted to drink it straight from the bowl.
When we finish, Lewis stays in the kitchen and has a second helping, and Helena and I go into the living area and get comfortable on the couch, a board of sweet snacks and the half-finished bottle of wine between us.
“Now,” Helena says, tucking her legs beneath her. “Let’s really talk. Ask me anything, darling.”
Anything. Suddenly, I need more wine, but I resist finishing the glass, placing it on the coffee table instead.
“Why didn’t you come to my mom’s funeral?”
Helena lets out a breath. “We’re diving right in, okay. Before I answer this, I need you to know, I loved your father very much. He wasn’t perfect, but he loved your mom, and that was enough for me.” I nod shortly, my heart hammering. “We weren’t there because before she died, your mom was considering leaving him, and I encouraged it.”
All the wind is knocked from me. I stare at her, my cheeks flushed with the sudden urge to cry. I knew my parents weren’t exactly happy, but I didn’t know it had gone that far. They argued, and she worried, but they loved each other—even as a kid I could see that.
Helena takes my hand. “When your mom left the city, Nico promised things would be different. He said six months, a year tops, of this life and then he’d get out. They just needed more money in the bank to be secure. But it didn’t end. It never did. And your mom was terrified for you.” She pulls her hand back, her expression one of pain. “Your mom called me in tears, and I told her to come back. I said Finn and I would look out for the both of you. Your father found out, and he was devastated. He begged her to stay, promised he would really get out this time, so she gave him one last chance. He found out about Finn and mine’sinvolvement and cut us out, and then a month later, your mom had her heart attack and died.” Her eyes are glassy as she continues. “We tried to make things up to Nico, but he was so angry with us. Then, when he died, we went to his funeral and weren’t allowed inside. Security told us we weren’t welcome.”
I frown. “But … who arranged that? Who?—”
The answer is obvious.
Ranger. He knew the McEwans would come, and he blocked them from my life.
Helena must think the same. “Finn tried to talk to Ranger about it, but he refused to see or speak with us. Then, when we found out about Nico’s will asking you to go to Ranger, we tried to contest it. It made no sense to us. We’d all heard the rumors about Nico and Ranger falling out?—”
“Ranger lied about it,” I interject softly, shame warming my cheeks. “I didn’t read the will; it was read to me. I believed the family lawyer.”
She takes a small sip of her wine. I pick up my own glass and do the same.
“We know he lied.”
I lower my glass. “You do?”
She nods. “Oh, lord. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but …” She puts her drink down and opens one of the coffee table drawers. She fishes out some paperwork, envelopes mainly, and sits back. “On your twenty-fifth birthday, we received a letter from your dad. It was written before he died, and someone posted it, but we still don’t know who. It said that he hoped looking after you was as much of a blessing for us as it was for him.” My heart chills. “We didn’t understand it. Nico never told us he wanted you to come to us. Not once.”
But the real will must have. My hand hovers by my mouth, and I try to breathe. Ranger read the will and saw my dad’s final wishes were for me to go to the McEwans—so he changed it.
“The moment we realized what Nico really wanted, we went to San Francisco. But by then, you’d married Wyatt, you were pregnant, and you seemed happy. We didn’t want to disturb your happiness with drama,” she explains. “Then Theo died … and Ranger told us we weren’t welcome. He said you were grieving and didn’t need random people showing up to offer comfort. It made sense, in a way, but Finn didn’t believe any of it. He went to you.”
But I didn’t see Finn. Not when Theo died. Not when Wyatt died, either.
“Ranger did everything to keep us apart,” I say.
She nods. “Finn came home devastated. I’ve never seen him like that. He went to Theo’s funeral, and he said you looked so broken, but that you had Wyatt, and Ranger, too, and he … he wanted to do something, but he didn’t want to disrupt your life any more than it already had been. Then Wyatt was gone, and you disappeared. We were worried sick, but Ranger said he had everything under control, he would take care of you, and we had no choice but to believe him because we didn’t know where you were.”
I was on an island, hiding from my life, meeting Ethan.
“And then …” She exhales. “A few months ago, another letter arrived. But this one was for you.”
“Me?” I breathe out the word, and she hands me an unopened envelope, my father’s handwriting across the front. ToDenver DeLuca, with the McEwans’ address underneath.
“It came in a package that said to give it to you on yourthirtieth … but that’s not too far away, is it?” Helena says, encouraging me to open it.
I open it fast, almost tearing the envelope in two.
To my dearest Deedee,
Happy thirtieth birthday, baby. I hope you don’t think these letters are morbid. I wanted to write one for you every year but settled for just a couple. Your thirtieth was too important for me to miss.
I’m guessing by now you’ve moved out of Finn and Helena’s. Maybe you’re married and have kids of your own. I wonder if they’re as troublesome as you were. I hope they are, because the stories your mom and I had of you were exhausting at the time, but also the best memories to look back on.
