Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Her eyes snapped open. “Heavens no. Doug is not my type at all.”
I was positive I was staring at my aunt like she had lost her mind. “I’m confused.”
Rubbing her temples, she mumbled something about secrets and men and how she needed a drink. “Aunt Opal?”
When she finally dropped her hands and looked at me, she said, “I’m not sure I should say anything but it was a long time ago, so not really an issue now. But your mother was married to him before she married your father.”
My mouth fell open. “She was? To whom?”
“His name was Jake, and he was the love of my life. We had so many dreams,” she said as she seemed to get lost in the past for a few moments. Clearing her throat, she went on. “We were going to go to France so I could go to pastry school, and he planned on spending hours painting the beautiful scenery of France while taking painting lessons from some famous landscape artist. I planned to move to New York City, where I would open a bakery, and Jake would open an art studio.” She let out a soft laugh. “The dreams we had.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Your mother. That’s what happened.”
Confused, I asked, “What do you mean? She and Dad dated since high school. Middle school, if Dad was telling the story.”
Opal laughed, but it held no humor at all. “Your mother had gotten into a fight with your father and decided to fly to France to surprise me. She had, of course, met Jake before. He wasn’t from Moose Village and lived in Lake Placid. We met at a mutual friend’s birthday party at Lake Placid. It was love at first sight. We spent hours together just talking about our goals and dreams. We were both eighteen and so excited to start life. He said he would follow me there when I told him about my plans to visit France and possibly attend school there. I thought he was kidding, but one day he picked me up for a date and said he had made arrangements to study with this landscape artist. My mother and father, of course, didn’t know Jake would be going to France. I lied and said he was going to an art school in New York City. I didn’t even tell your mother.”
Opal looked down at her desk and wiped away at nothing. “Needless to say, she was surprised that Jake and I lived together in a small flat above the studio where he was taking art classes. She promised not to tell our parents, so I let her stay with us. She slept on the sofa, and while I was at pastry school, she explored Paris. Jake accompanied her a few times, and I never thought anything of it. Jake had an art exhibit to go to, and I couldn’t go, so your mother suggested she should go. Something inside me said it was a bad idea, but I trusted Jake and his love for me.”
It felt like a lead brick had settled in the pit of my stomach. “What happened?”
She closed her eyes as if going back to that moment. “Jake couldn’t handle his alcohol, and your mother, well, she could. They got drunk, went back to our studio apartment, and your mother slept with him.”
It was my turn to close my eyes. It was sad to think about it, but it didn’t surprise me that my mother would do that. When I opened my eyes, Opal was wiping a tear away.
“I came home and found them passed out in our bed. I threw a bucket of cold water on both of them. Jake couldn’t even remember sleeping with her, and your mother said it wasn’t a big deal. I tried to forgive them both, but the trust was broken. Your mother left and went back to the States and back to your father. Jake and I tried to work through the betrayal, but I couldn’t get past what he had done. He slept with my sister. I struggled with it, but we eventually worked through our problems, and Jake asked me to marry him. He said he wanted to make it up to me every single day for the rest of our lives.”
“If he asked you to marry him, how did he marry Mom?”
“Three months after your mother left, she called me and told me she was pregnant—and that it was Jake’s baby.”
I quickly reviewed the timeline. Was Macy Jake’s daughter? No…it couldn’t be.
“Jake told me he needed to do the right thing, so he left France, moved to New York City, and married your mother.”
“What about Dad?”
“He was heartbroken and nearly quit school.”
“What?” I practically shouted.
“Jake and Lacy married, and she lost the baby not long afterward.”