Chapter 26

twenty-six

I sabelle spent the rainy afternoon in the cottage, reflecting on the past. After all these years, the fog had finally cleared, and she was able to put her life into perspective. She'd been wrong about so much, and her mistakes had caused great heartache. But she had no idea how to go about making things right. Feeling the urge to confide in someone, she went out into the stormy evening in search of Blossom. She found the woman at the garden house, curled up on the daybed swing on the screened porch, reading a novel.

Isabelle plopped down in a rocking chair. "I'm ready to redeem my sins."

"I'm in the middle of something. Can't it wait?" Blossom held up an Ernest Hemingway novel.

The Old Man and the Sea cover brought back pleasant memories for Isabelle. "Hemingway was my husband's favorite."

"I know. He's mine as well. I've read all of his novels dozens of times. Hemingway was from my era. We met once in Key West through mutual friends. It was in the late twenties, just after he moved back from Paris."

Isabelle's jaw hit the floor. "You're lying."

Blossom stiffened. "I resent that. I was not a liar in life, and I'm certainly not one in death." She threw her legs over the side of the swing and smoothed out her mussed hair. "Now what is so urgent you need to talk to me about?"

"I'm ready to tell you what happened with Pritchard and Savannah."

Blossom cast a glance heavenward. "Praise, Lord. At long last." She stood and stretched. "I'll order us a pizza. We'll need nourishment for such a confession."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "How can you think about food at a time like this? And who's going to deliver pizza way out here?"

"Sal's will." They heard a car with a loud exhaust pipe in the courtyard, followed by the ringing of the garden house doorbell. "That would be them now," Blossom said and disappeared inside.

Isabelle didn't ask about the immediate delivery. She was growing accustomed to Blossom's magic tricks.

A minute later, Blossom returned with a large veggie pizza, paper plates, and napkins, and they sat down at the small table. She said the blessing and helped herself to a slice of pizza. "You may begin whenever you're ready."

Isabelle inhaled an unsteady breath. "I need to say this fast in order to get it out. Pritchard and Savannah dated in high school. She was a year younger than he was. She got pregnant the summer before he left for his freshman year at Alabama. They were determined to keep the baby, but I was adamantly opposed to them getting married."

Poised to bite, Blossom looked at Isabelle over the top of her pizza slice. "Why would you be opposed? Savannah seems like a perfectly lovely person."

"She's okay, I guess. Her ancestor was one of the town's founding fathers. The was named after him." Isabelle's eyes traveled to the Merriweather Bridge connecting downtown to Sandy Island. Only a few of the bridge's lights were visible through the fog and mist. "But Savannah's mother had a terrible reputation as the town drunk, and I didn't want my son associated with that family. When I heard Pritchard and Savannah were planning to elope, I took matters into my own hands."

Blossom groaned. "I'm almost afraid to ask what you did."

Isabelle squirmed in her chair. Despite the ceiling fan twirling overhead, she was sweating profusely. Once she confessed, there was no turning back. She snatched up a napkin and blotted the beads of sweat from her forehead. "I paid Eileen a visit. I told her I'd make Savannah's life miserable if she married my son. We conspired to make Savannah give the baby up for adoption. Only Eileen took things too far."

"How so?"

Isabelle shredded the napkin on the table in front of her. "The weather played in Eileen's favor. Savannah went into labor during an ice storm, and she delivered the baby at home. After the storm cleared, Eileen told everyone Savannah had willingly given the baby up for adoption and ran away in disgrace. Savannah took the truth with her to Washington State, where she lived for the next thirty years."

Blossom dropped her gnawed pizza crust on the plate. "When did she return to Water's Edge?"

"Last summer. Her mother had passed away, and she came home to visit her siblings. She brought the truth of what happened to her baby with her. Eileen tricked Savannah into signing adoption papers while she was in labor. And she hid the baby in their guesthouse until the adoptive parents came for her."

Blossom's mouth fell open. "Are you saying she kidnapped the baby?"

Isabelle nodded solemnly.

Blossom shook her head as though struggling to comprehend. "So, Eileen had previously arranged for the adoption? She'd planned all along to steal her own daughter's baby."

Unable to meet Blossom's gaze, Isabelle stared down at her empty plate. "Seems that way."

"Poor Savannah. I can't imagine the agony she must have suffered."

"What about Pritchard? He was devastated. He tried to find happiness. He even married a girl I wholeheartedly approved of. But it didn't last. His heart has always belonged to Savannah."

"How do you feel knowing you caused such heartache? Not only did you prevent Savannah and Pritchard from being together, but you also kept them from parenting their only child."

Blossom's disapproving tone brought tears to her eyes. "I may have initiated the plan, but the rest was on Eileen."

"But you got what you wanted nonetheless."

"What I thought I wanted at the time." Grabbing another napkin, Isabelle dried her eyes and blew her nose.

"How did Pritchard and Savannah find Harper?"

Isabelle left the table and stood at the screen door, watching lightning crack the night sky. "Harper's adoptive parents never told her she was adopted. When the mother passed away, Harper found documents that made her suspicious. Those documents led her to Water's Edge. She joined a genetic website where she was matched with Pritchard, who had been searching for his daughter for years."

Blossom joined her at the door. "Only it's not history. It's the present and the future if you don't do something about it. The animosity you feel toward Savannah and Harper, your own grandchild, is evident to everyone around you. This is about more than you saying you're sorry, isn't it?"

Isabelle hesitated.

Blossom pointed at the ceiling. "We're not alone, Isabelle. If you truly want redemption, you must tell the truth."

"Yes! Darn it. I want my son back. We had a special bond. He has always been my rock, especially during Edward's illness. Now I have to share him with Savannah and Harper." The confession took her breath away. "What a selfish, vindictive person I am."

Blossom let out a humph. "You won't get an argument from me about that. But there's enough room in Pritchard's heart for you, Savannah, and Harper."

Isabelle wrung her hands together. "Pritchard is an honorable man like his father. He takes his obligation to his mother seriously. But his feelings for me changed when he learned I had a role in the mess with Savannah and the baby. He hates me. I can see it in his eyes."

"He doesn't hate you, Isabelle. An apology is a start toward mending that rift."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It's not hard when you mean it." She placed a hand on Isabelle's shoulder. "You haven't lost your son, Izzy. You've gained a wonderful daughter-in-law and grandchild. And soon, you'll have a grandson-in-law. The only person you're hurting by holding on to your animosity is yourself."