Then she was gone, moving slowly up the steps into the building.

He knew right then that she would be going to London, and that she wasn’t coming back.

Chapter

25

There were clouds over London. At least they made for a pretty sunset.

Jen stood in front of one of the three kitchen windows in Tim Bauer’s spacious English apartment. The place was severe, like him, with everything in its place. A year ago—hell, a month ago—she would have been dancing through the halls, ecstatic to be put up here. She would have been taking notes on how he lived, how he organized himself. Mulling over ways to apply his work ethic to her own.

Now, having been here a full two weeks, all she did, every night, was stare at the phone in her hand and wonder whom she should call first.

This evening was no different. Below, the random angles of the narrow London streets made a dramatic triangular corner, and the blue-painted pub situated there was doing marvelous business. People spilled out onto the sidewalk, cigarettes and pints in hand. In the distance, above the silver rooftops, rose the imposing dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral.

She’d been to London before, to work in Bauer’s office here, but she’d never gotten up to Scotland. Odd, that. She’d escaped one life and found another one in a tiny, faux Scotland over in the States, but now that the Borders and Edinburgh and the Highlands were a quick flight or train ride from where she stood right now, she wouldn’t get to see them. She would have loved to find Mr. MacDougall’s childhood home.

Her palm grew sweaty as she clutched the phone. This was it. She was doing this tonight. Simply because she couldn’t go another day without.

She dialed the number she still knew by heart. The phone rang and rang. She didn’t ever remember being this nervous. Ever.

“Yeah?” came the throaty voice on the other end.

Jen swallowed. “Hi, Mom.”

A long drag on a cigarette. “Aim? You sound different. And what kind of number are you calling from? It’s coming through on the caller ID with a bunch of weird zeroes.”

She couldn’t get any moisture in her mouth. “It’s not Aimee. It’s Jen.”

What followed was the longest pause in the world. “Jennifer.” No inflection. No emotion.

“Yes, it’s me.”

How are you? would have been the dumbest thing in the world to ask, considering they hadn’t spoken in ten years, so she didn’t.

Another drag on the cigarette. “Are you still in Gleann?”

“No, I left over two weeks ago. I’m in London now.”

“London.” Mom grunted in the way Jen remembered so vividly—her sitting on the stained couch, a smoke in one hand, reacting to Jen’s excellent report card.

She tried to conjure up this new image of Mom that Aimee had painted for her, but it was impossible. Was she gray-haired now? Had she gained or lost weight? Was she still sitting on that couch watching daytime TV?

“England,” Jen added.

Mom sighed. “Yeah, I figured that. That where your work is taking you these days?”

Jen hadn’t called to talk about London. “Mom, I didn’t . . . I had no idea you and Aimee and Ainsley had been talking.”

“Why would you? So why are you calling me now, after all this time? Did Aimee put you up to it?”

“No, not at all. This is me. Doing something I should have done a long time ago. I, uh, I’m calling because I just . . . well, I need to. I wanted to personally tell you some things. Is now okay?”

“Yeah.” She heard the rattle of a glass ashtray as Mom poked out her smoke. “I don’t have to leave for work for fifteen minutes.”

Work? She had a job? Jen blinked back surprise. She drew a deep breath and said, “First, I wanted to call you and tell you that I did it. That I finally got to where I always wanted to be.”

“You mean London.” Mom didn’t sound so impressed, but what else was new.

“No. I got a promotion. The big one. The one I’ve been wanting since I took the job at Bauer Events after graduation.”

Mom must have had a cold or smoker’s phlegm or something, because she blew her nose. When she finally spoke, her voice was a little muffled. “Good for you, Jennifer. You must think you’re so much better than me.”

Ten years of bitterness made the phone weigh a million pounds. Jen sank into a chair. “Um . . .” Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, I do.

“You are better than me, Jennifer,” she said, so matter-of-factly that Jen was sure she hadn’t heard right. “You always have been.”

That’s when Jen started to cry. They were silent tears, but they were fat and made big wet spots on her pants. “I have to ask. Are you drinking?”

“If you were seventeen I would’ve raked your eyes out for that.” After a pause she added, “Because the guilty are usually the most defensive.”

“So are you?”

“I’m almost two years sober.”

Jen wanted to be angry for not knowing this, until she realized she had no one to be angry at. It wasn’t Aimee’s job to tell her. Mom wouldn’t have called, considering Jen had made it clear she never wanted to talk to her again. And she couldn’t blame Ainsley, who’d only ever wanted a grandma.

Mom said, “I used some of your money for rehab. Well, for a really long time I used it to get really fucking drunk. Gambling. Some other stupid shit. It took me years to know what I had, to come to appreciate it.”

Jen found the strength to stand and moved closer to the window. The lights were coming up over London and she’d never felt so far away from everything. “What changed?”

“Aimee reaching out, despite what I did to her and to you. Ainsley changed me, too. At first it was hard to talk to her, but now I sort of, I don’t know, live for it.” Mom blew her nose again. “And then there’s the fact that your checks never stopped coming, even though I was sure you knew what I was using them for. I felt shame. For the first time in my life. Why’d you send me money, Jennifer?”

It took her a few minutes to answer, because suddenly she was consumed by the memory of Leith’s voice. “Someone once told me I feel like I need to fix everyone, that I think I have all the answers. I guess I thought I could fix you like I tried to do with Aimee. I guess I wanted you to do what you just told me you did, about the rehab. And, yeah, I think part of me wanted to rub my success in your face.”

“Points for honesty. One thing you’ve never lacked.”

“Neither have you.”

Down at the triangular pub, a fight broke out on the sidewalk between groups of guys dressed in different colors meant to represent sports teams she didn’t recognize. “Mom, the other reason I’m calling is to tell you that I won’t be able to send money for a while. I’m going to be a little short on cash, and I don’t know for how long.”

What came out of her mother’s mouth shocked the hell out of her. “Are you in trouble?”

“No, not in trouble.”

“I don’t need it anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have a job. It’s just cleaning offices, but it’s a job. I’ve been saving what you’ve been sending for a surprise trip to see Aimee and the little girl I’ve never met.”

Through the phone, Jen heard the metallic strike of a lighter, the gentle hiss of a newly lit cigarette, and her mom’s deep inhale. “Why are you gonna be short on cash? Thought you just told me you got this big promotion?”

“I did get the promotion.” Jen placed her palm on the glass. “I just didn’t accept it.”

Leith had been right. About so much.

Tim had called from New York that morning to offer Jen the position of running the London office. On one hand she’d been expecting it; on the other she’d been in complete denial. She kept waiting for the relief and triumph to sweep through her, but it never came. After telling Tim she’d think about it and would get back to him, she went for a walk along the Thames. She stood on the Millennium Bridge for a long time, over one of the world’s great rivers, in one of the world’s most majestic cities, and all she could think about was the little creek running through Gleann.