It took her all of ten minutes to drop a package of chicken parts into the oversize pot, along with celery, carrots, frozen peas and corn, and a can of chicken broth. At the last minute she opened the cabinet over the stove and sprinkled every spice she had on the rack into the mess. She covered it, adjusted the cook time, then dusted her hands dramatically. Done.
Olivia opened the freezer again, withdrew a Boston cream pie, and set it on the counter to thaw out. Her father loved Boston cream pie. These days, Lea made the pies from scratch.
Just you and me, kid.
Somehow Olivia managed to while away the hours by tidying up the studio, playing with the dogs, checking the Crock-Pot, and washing a load of towels. She looked at the time on her watch at least a hundred times until she heard the pinging sound of the doorbell. With the dogs at her heels, she ran to the foyer, where she skidded to a stop, opened the door, and stared at her father.
He looked wonderful, tanned and fit, wearing heavy winter clothes that looked brand-new. But there was such sadness, such regret and weariness in his eyes that she knew he hadn’t slept. She burst into tears. He reached for her, and she fell into his arms. He held her so tightly she wanted to squeal with the pain, but she didn’t.
“I have no words to tell you how very sorry I am, Ollie. This was never supposed to happen. Never!” he said vehemently. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have something hot to drink.”
In the kitchen, Olivia reached for a cup and poured coffee for her father. She’d been making pot after pot of coffee since ten o’clock, then throwing each one out because she wanted the coffee to be fresh when her father arrived.
Olivia waited until her father had taken his first sip before she whispered, “Tell me everything.”
He did.
“I didn’t know what to do, Ollie. I was numb. All I could think of was that you were just a few hours old, and I was the only one who wanted you. I signed everything they put in front of me. I was full of fear and panic. I think the look on your mother’s face told me there was no hope that she would change her mind. She had some pretty highfalutin lawyers back then. To this day, I don’t know how she paid for them. She said she wanted a divorce, didn’t want you, and didn’t want anything from me. She also said she was taking back her maiden name. All that was in the…the contract I signed. Allison agreed never to interfere in your life. I insisted on that when I finally got my wits about me. She readily agreed. She didn’t want either one of us. I know that must hurt you unbearably, Ollie, but I can’t change what is. From that day on, I never heard a thing about her. She kept her word.
“I talked to our minister, your grandmother, anyone who would listen or who I thought could offer advice. They all agreed that telling you your mother had passed away would be best. I tried to be both mother and father to you. I did my best, Ollie. It was really rocky in the beginning, but you were too young to remember. I did what I thought was best for both of us.”
“You did, Dad. I just wish you had told me. I’m not faulting you for the care you gave me. I loved our life. I love you. I just think I should have known.”
Dennis Lowell ran his fingers through his sun-bleached hair. “I always planned to tell you, but that time never came. And, of course, I had put that picture on the mantel and told you it was your dead mother. I didn’t know what would happen if I told you the truth and admitted to the deception.
“You were so happy-go-lucky. I thought you’d become sad, upset…maybe even try to search her out or something. That was the selfish part of my thinking. I never, ever thought something like this would happen.”
Olivia got up from her chair and started to pace the kitchen. The dogs tracked her until they got dizzy. “But it did happen, Dad. That lawyer wants me to call him back. He left her will. I didn’t even look at it. I don’t want anything from her. Can you take care of it, Dad?”
Dennis stared at his daughter before he got up to lift the lid of the Crock-Pot. “You just threw stuff in here, eh?” Olivia nodded. “I’m afraid, Ollie, it doesn’t work like that. I guess your mother wanted to make amends for what she did. She can’t hurt you anymore. Just deal with it, then forget about her. I know that sounds easy for me to say, but it’s the best thing for you to do. If she left you an insurance policy, donate it to some worthy cause. You’re nothing like her, Ollie. You’re my daughter, and don’t you ever forget it. Now, where is that damn will? We might as well get started on this so we can lay it to rest. Do you forgive me, Ollie?”
Did she? Did she have a choice? She forced herself to nod. “It’s on the coffee table in the great room.” Her heart thumped in her chest as she stared at her father’s back. His shoulders were slumped as he made his way into the great room.
Olivia remained at the kitchen table, a table built by her father. She’d helped to sand it. She clasped and unclasped her hands as she tried to come to terms with what her father had just told her. The part that bruised her heart was that her mother had refused even to see her when she had been born. She’d just signed her away, all nice and legal. What kind of woman would do a thing like that?
Time crawled forward as Olivia waited for her father to return to the kitchen. What was taking so long? She started to get angry all over again as she entered the great room. Her father was staring off into space. Fear washed through her as she raced across the room.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
Dennis turned, and for a moment he still didn’t seem to be focusing on her. “This is going to be a little more complicated than I originally thought. It seems your…Allison changed her name. Does the name Adrian Ames mean anything to you?”
Olivia shook her head.
“How about Adrian’s Treasure Box? Does that ring any bells?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s some big mail-order catalog. I think I ordered stuff from there a few times. Why, Dad? Why are you asking me these questions?”
Dennis Lowell took a deep breath. “Your…Allison is…Adrian Ames, owner of that mail-order company. It’s a multimillion-dollar business, and she left it all to you.”
Olivia’s jaw dropped. “What?” she asked in a strangled voice.
Dennis looked down at the will in his hands. “It’s all spelled out right here. Much to my surprise, she lived just forty miles from here. At least she had a house here. Seems she has property all over the world. She never remarried. It says right here that when you turned sixteen, she started taking an interest in your life. She hired a private detective to send her monthly reports, and obviously that was done right up until the time of her death. She never did anything about those reports, Ollie. She stuck to our bargain, for whatever that’s worth.”
Olivia wiped at the tears starting to gather in her eyes. It was starting to snow again, she noticed. “What was she like, Dad? Not that story you made up for me when I was little. The real story.”
Dennis leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Both dogs hopped onto his lap. Absentmindedly, he stroked their small heads. “I met Allison during her last year at Ole Miss. She worked part-time in a small bank that was privately owned. One day I bumped into her at a local pizza joint that was off campus. I worked a few doors down from the place and used to go there for lunch. She was with two friends. She dropped her book bag, and I picked it up. They invited me to sit with them, so I did. One thing led to another, and I finally asked her out. At first she said no because she didn’t want to get involved with anyone when she would be leaving at the end of the term. I finally wore her down.
“There were no bells or whistles, no wild passion or anything like that. We were just comfortable with one another. That fall we got married and moved here. Allison had a job in Washington, and I worked locally, as you know. Sometimes when I think back I realize perhaps I was too