Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [57]
"Maybe I should get some water or a cold towel."
"Good idea."
"I hate to walk around her house, though. It's not like she invited us in."
"Well, we're in now," Alex said. "And since she identified Sarah as her daughter and your mother, then you're family."
"I can't believe it." Julia stared down at her grandmother. Her skin was pale, her face lined and wrinkled, especially around her eyes and mouth. Judging by her reaction, she'd obviously loved Sarah very much. But why on earth did she think Sarah had died in a fire? And why had Sarah said her parents disowned her because of her pregnancy? Julia had so many questions. She wanted her grandmother to wake up, to give them some answers. But they would have to go slow. The woman was probably in her early eighties. Who knew how strong she was? "Do you think we should call 911? What if something is really wrong with her?"
"She's coming around," Alex said.
Sure enough, her grandmother was moving her arms and legs. She blinked a few times, then opened her eyes, her expression more dazed than before. "What- what happened?"
"You fainted," Alex said gently, as he knelt beside the couch. "Right after we told you about Sarah."
Susan stared at them both, then struggled to sit up. "I don't understand any of this. Who are you people? Why are you here? Is this some kind of a cruel joke?" Anger entered her voice.
"It's not a joke." Julia sat down on the other end of the couch while Alex stood up and backed away, giving her grandmother some space. "My name is Julia DeMarco. My mother, Sarah, told me years ago that her parents disowned her when she got pregnant with me. I always believed that to be the truth until Alex called you this morning and you said that Sarah died twenty-five years ago."
"She died in a fire," Susan began, then stopped. "But that picture you showed me… Can I see it again?"
Julia handed her the photo and watched the myriad emotions cross Susan's face as she studied the picture. She traced Sarah's figure with a shaky finger.
"This is her, my baby, but she's so much older than when I last saw her."
"She was fifty-one then, fifty-eight when she died this year."
Susan started shaking her head again. "She was thirty-three when she died. I know, because it was right after her birthday. We got a call from Chicago," she said haltingly. "A woman we didn't know. She said she was Sarah's next-door neighbor and that she had horrible news. There had been a fire in their apartment building. Sarah didn't get out. There was nothing but ash when it was over." Her voice caught and she struggled for control. "I couldn't believe Sarah was dead. I thought it was a nightmare, and I would wake up, but I didn't." She turned to Julia, her brown eyes big, pleading, filled with pain. "Why? Why would anyone tell me that she was dead if she wasn't?"
Julia swallowed hard, her heart breaking at the agony on her grandmother's face as she relived the moment when she'd heard her daughter was dead. Only now she had to grapple with the fact that Sarah hadn't died then. She'd lived for another twenty-five years, but she'd never gotten in touch. Why not?
"My mother said that you turned her away when she got pregnant," Julia said again. "Do you know why she would have told me that?"
Susan's face was a portrait of confusion. "I don't know. Sarah was pregnant once, when she was twenty-seven years old. She had an ectopic pregnancy, in the tubes, you know. She had a lot of complications. The doctor said she'd never have children after that. She was devastated by the news. Her boyfriend left her. He couldn't bear the thought of marrying her and not having kids. It was a very sad time."
Julia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But she had me, and she had another child, too, my little sister, Elizabeth. She had two pregnancies after that" one."
"How old are you?" Susan asked.
"I'm twenty-eight. My mother was thirty when she had me. How could you have not known about me? That would have been three years before she supposedly died in that fire."
Susan