Chapter 8: What Rachel Chose
Rachel called on a Wednesday.
I let it ring the first time.
The second time, three hours later, I picked up.
"I'm not calling to argue," she said immediately.
Her voice was different from the wedding.
Quieter.
Like something had been let out of it.
"All right."
"I've retained my own attorney.
Separate from Mom's."
I waited.
"I wanted you to know that I've agreed to cooperate with Grace Okafor's office.
I'm providing a full account of what Mom told me and when." A pause.
"I know that doesn't fix anything."
"No," I said.
"It doesn't."
"I believed her, Valerie.
I know that's not an excuse.
But I genuinely believed the trust amendment was legitimate.
I believed you had been told."
"You believed what was convenient to believe."
The line was quiet for a moment.
"Yes," Rachel said.
"I did."
I sat with that.
"What happened with Logan?" I asked.
"He's filing for annulment.
The marriage was never consummated — we had an argument the night before the wedding and—" She stopped.
"It doesn't matter.
His attorneys are also cooperating with Grace's office regarding the Newport trust structure.
He was being used too.
I think I knew that and I let it happen."
"Rachel."
"I know."
"Why did you let it happen?"
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"Because Mom told me I was the one who deserved it," she said finally.
"The money.
The house.
The good marriage.
She told me you had made your choices and those choices had consequences and I was the one who had stayed and been loyal and I deserved to be rewarded." Her voice cracked slightly.
"I wanted to believe that.
I wanted to be the one who was chosen."
I thought about my father's letter.
*You were never the difficult one.*
"She told me the same thing in reverse," I said.
"My whole life."
"I know." Rachel's voice was very small.
"I'm sorry, Valerie.
For the wedding.
For what I said to Chloe.
For all of it.
I know sorry doesn't cover it."
"It doesn't," I said.
"But it's a start."
I didn't forgive her that day.
Forgiveness wasn't something I could locate yet, and I wasn't going to pretend otherwise.
But I stayed on the phone.
We talked for another twenty minutes.
About our father, mostly.
About things he had said to each of us that we had never compared before.
When I hung up, I sat in the kitchen for a while.
Then I called Chloe in from the living room.
"I need to give you something," I said.
I handed her the envelope with her name on it.
She looked at it.
"What is it?"
"A letter from your grandfather.
He wrote it before you were born." I sat down across from her.
"You don't have to read it now.
You can read it whenever you're ready.
But I wanted you to know it exists."
Chloe turned the envelope over in her hands.
"Did he know about me?"
"He knew your mom was going to have a baby.
He didn't know it would be you specifically." I paused.
"But I think he would have loved you specifically very much."
She set the envelope carefully on the table.
Then she looked up at me.
"Mom.
Are we going to be okay?"
I looked at my daughter.
Her yellow bow.
Her serious eyes.
The cardigan folded over the back of her chair.
"Yes," I said.
"We really are."
May you like
She nodded, satisfied, and went back to the living room.
I left the envelope on the table where she could find it when she was ready.
