Chapter Twenty
The Dinner Guest
Jessica reaches home with only minutes to spare.
Her mother looks up from the kitchen and smiles.
“I’m glad you made it. I could use another pair of hands.”
Jessica drops her things near the door and joins her.
“So who is this mysterious dinner guest?”
Her mother keeps working on the roast.
“An old friend.”
“That’s all I get?”
“For now.”
Jessica gives her a suspicious look.
Her mother laughs.
“You’ll meet her soon enough.”
Jessica begins peeling vegetables.
“How old of a friend?”
“A very old friend.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jessica smiles, but her curiosity grows.
Her mother explains that the woman moved away when Jessica was about a year old. They stayed in touch for years, and Jessica’s mother used to send her school photographs.
Jessica stops peeling.
“My school pictures?”
“Yes.”
“So she knows me?”
“She knows about you.”
That answer does not help.
“What’s her name?”
Her mother gives her a look.
“Jessica.”
“What?”
“You’ll find out tonight.”
Now Jessica knows something is going on.
She just has no idea what.
They finish preparing the roast together. Afterwards, Jessica heads upstairs to wash off the dust from the old mill.
As she changes, something drops from her pocket.
The gold coin.
She had completely forgotten she still had one of the coins with her from the discovery.
Jessica picks it up and turns it over in her hand.
The Liberty head catches the light.
She puts on her bathrobe, takes the coin to her bedroom and places it safely in her lockbox until it can be returned with the documented find.
Then she goes back to shower.
Warm water runs over her face.
For a brief instant, an image enters her mind.
A woman sitting across from her mother.
Jessica cannot see the woman’s face.
Yet the image feels strangely familiar.
Then it is gone.
Jessica opens her eyes.
Water continues running.
She stands there for several seconds, wondering where the thought came from.
By the time she finishes getting ready, she has almost convinced herself it means nothing.
Almost.
Downstairs, her mother is preparing the side dishes.
Jessica sets the dining-room table.
Three places.
Her father is still away on business.
Jessica looks at the third plate.
The mystery guest.
“How much longer?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
“Need anything else?”
“I’ve got it.”
Jessica heads into the living room and turns on the television.
She flips through channels without really watching any of them.
Her mother’s answers keep replaying in her head.
A very old friend.
Moved away when Jessica was one.
Received Jessica’s school photographs.
Why?
The doorbell rings.
Jessica gets up.
“Got it!”
She opens the door.
Brenda Waters stands on the other side.
For several seconds, Jessica says nothing.
Brenda smiles.
“Hi, Jessica.”
Jessica blinks.
“Brenda?”
Before she can ask why her ghost-hunting teacher is standing at her front door, her mother appears behind her.
“Good, you made it.”
Brenda steps inside.
Jessica remains beside the open door.
Her mother knows Brenda.
Not casually.
She was expecting her.
Jessica slowly closes the door.
Neither woman seems to notice her confusion.
They head towards the kitchen.
Jessica follows.
Brenda breathes in.
“Smells delicious, Missy. What are we having?”
Jessica stops.
Missy.
Almost nobody calls her mother that.
Only close friends.
Very close friends.
“Jessica and I made a roast,” her mother says.
Brenda turns towards Jessica.
“You’ve had a busy day. Ghost hunting all afternoon and then home to cook dinner?”
Jessica studies her.
“You knew you were coming here tonight.”
Brenda hesitates.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
Her mother steps in.
“That part was my fault. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Jessica looks between them.
“A surprise?”
“You’ll understand.”
That answer again.
Brenda changes the subject.
“The investigation went extremely well.”
Jessica’s mother checks the potatoes.
“You said you were meeting the whole group yesterday and then taking just Jessica and William out today?”
Brenda nods.
“They impressed me. All seven of them. They know more than I expected, and they’re willing to learn instead of pretending they already have all the answers.”
She looks at Jessica.
“And today I watched two very determined young investigators refuse to give up until they understood what they were seeing.”
Jessica smiles despite herself.
Her mother looks genuinely interested.
“You’ll have to show me some of this evidence someday. I’m still not convinced ghosts are walking around everywhere, but I’d like to see what you’ve found.”
Jessica looks at her.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“I figured you and Dad thought it was childish.”
Her mother sets down the spoon.
“We never thought you were childish. We worried about encouraging something we didn’t understand.”
She glances at Brenda.
“I’ve known Brenda has been interested in this stuff for more than twenty years. We’ve disagreed about it plenty of times. She’s still one of my best friends.”
One of my best friends.
Jessica looks at Brenda again.
Brenda meets her eyes for only a moment before looking away.
Something about this evening feels increasingly strange.
They move into the dining room.
Brenda notices the wall of Jessica’s school photographs.
She gets up and walks towards them.
Jessica watches her move slowly from one photograph to the next.
Kindergarten.
Elementary school.
Birthdays.
School portraits.
Years of Jessica’s life arranged across the wall.
Brenda stops at one.
Then another.
Her expression changes.
Not dramatically.
But Jessica sees it.
“You look so beautiful,” Brenda says softly.
Jessica feels herself blush.
“Mom likes keeping every embarrassing stage of my life on display.”
Her mother laughs from the kitchen.
“They’re not embarrassing.”
Brenda continues looking at the photographs.
Jessica watches her.
Something is wrong.
Not wrong exactly.
Personal.
Brenda is not looking at the photographs like someone seeing them for the first time.
Jessica cannot explain why she feels that way.
She just does.
Her mother returns.
“Everything’s ready. Grab your plates.”
The food is arranged along the kitchen counter, and the three fill their plates before returning to the table.
Brenda raises her glass.
“To two great cooks.”
She looks at Jessica’s mother.
“And old friends.”
Then at Jessica.
“And new ones.”
They clink glasses.
Dinner begins normally enough.
They talk about the mill.
The town.
Brenda’s work.
The Group of Seven.
But Jessica notices little things.
Brenda already knows her father’s name.
“Robert still out of town?”
Her mother nods.
“Yes. He had a few clients to meet before coming home.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping he’d be here. I haven’t seen him in years.”
Jessica looks down at her plate.
Years.
Not months.
Not since Brenda moved back.
Years.
Later, her mother mentions something Jessica did when she was little.
Brenda smiles before the story is finished.
As though she has heard it before.
Jessica begins watching both women more closely.
They have the effortless rhythm of people who have known each other for a very long time.
Old jokes.
Familiar looks.
Half-finished sentences the other understands immediately.
And every so often, Jessica catches one of them looking at her.
Not casually.
Almost expectantly.
Her appetite begins to disappear.
Her mother notices.
“Everything all right?”
Jessica forces a smile.
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
Brenda looks at her for a moment, then back at her plate.
Dessert finally arrives.
Her mother carries in a banana cream pie.
“That’s my favourite,” Brenda and Jessica say at exactly the same time.
Silence.
Then Jessica’s mother laughs.
“Well, I knew I couldn’t go wrong with this one.”
Jessica looks at Brenda.
Brenda smiles.
But there is something behind the smile.
Nervousness.
Jessica is sure of it now.
“Could you grab the dessert plates?” her mother asks.
Jessica gets up.
As she enters the kitchen, voices drift from the dining room.
She cannot hear everything.
Only fragments.
“…wonderful job…”
Then her mother.
“…so similar to you sometimes…”
Jessica stops.
She should walk back in.
Instead, she remains still.
Brenda says something too quietly to hear.
Her mother answers.
“We owe it to her. She deserves to know.”
Jessica’s heart begins beating faster.
Know what?
She picks up the plates and returns.
Both women immediately stop talking.
Brenda has pulled her necklace out so that the pendant rests visibly against her shirt.
Jessica puts down the plates.
Her mother cuts the pie.
Nobody mentions the conversation.
Jessica sits.
She takes a bite.
Then another.
She can barely taste it.
Something catches the light across the table.
Brenda’s necklace.
Jessica’s fork stops halfway to her plate.
She stares.
The pendant.
Her hand instinctively rises to her own chest.
She pulls her necklace from beneath her shirt.
Brenda stops eating.
Jessica looks from one pendant to the other.
They are not identical.
They are complementary.
Two halves.
Jessica looks at her mother.
Then Brenda.
“What is that?”
Nobody answers immediately.
Jessica stands.
“Why do you have a necklace like mine?”
Her mother reaches towards her.
“Jessica—”
“No. Mom. What’s going on?”
Her mother’s eyes are already filling with tears.
Jessica looks at Brenda.
Brenda removes her necklace.
Her hands are trembling.
She places the pendant on the table.
Jessica remembers her thirteenth birthday.
Her mother giving her the necklace.
The story that came with it.
Your biological mother has the other half.
Jessica slowly removes her own necklace.
Her fingers barely cooperate.
She places it beside Brenda’s.
The two pieces slide together.
A heart.
One complete pendant.
Across it are the words:
My heart will never be complete without you.
Jessica stops breathing.
The room seems to disappear around her.
She looks at Brenda.
Brenda is crying now.
Jessica turns towards the woman she has called Mom her entire life.
Her mother reaches for her hand.
“Jessica…”
Jessica pulls her hand back—not angrily, but because she needs space to understand what is happening.
She looks at Brenda again.
“No.”
Brenda wipes at her face.
Jessica shakes her head.
“You’re…”
She cannot finish.
Brenda does it for her.
“I’m your biological mother.”
The words land harder than Jessica expects.
She sits down.
Nobody speaks.
For years, her biological mother has been an idea.
A person somewhere in the world.
Someone without a face.
Someone Jessica sometimes imagined finding.
Now she is sitting across the table.
The woman who taught her about paranormal investigation.
The woman who went into the old mill with her.
The woman Jessica felt strangely comfortable around from the beginning.
Brenda.
Jessica looks at her mother.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“All week?”
Her mother nods.
Jessica looks at Brenda.
“You knew too?”
Brenda takes a breath.
“Not the first time I saw you at the mill. I thought you might be Jessica, but I hadn’t seen a recent photograph in several years. When I saw you again at the archives, I wondered even more.”
She pauses.
“When you sat down in my class and I read your name, I knew.”
Jessica stares at her.
“You knew I was your daughter and you didn’t tell me?”
The hurt in her voice silences the room.
“I wanted to,” Brenda says. “More than you know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Her mother answers.
“Because we agreed years ago that if this day came, we would tell you together.”
Jessica looks at her.
“So instead everybody knew except me?”
“No,” her mother says gently. “Not everybody. Just us.”
“That’s not better.”
“I know.”
Jessica gets up and walks towards the wall of photographs.
She needs distance.
Brenda remains seated.
Nobody follows her.
Jessica looks at the pictures differently now.
Brenda had stood here earlier studying them.
“Mom said she used to send you these.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Years.”
Jessica turns.
“Why did you leave?”
Brenda looks down at the table.
“I was eighteen when I became pregnant. Your biological father had already left town before he knew about you, and I couldn’t find him.”
Jessica listens.
“I tried to raise you on my own. I loved you. But I was young, struggling and trying to figure out how I could give you the life I wanted you to have.”
Her mother continues carefully.
“Your father and I had just married. Robert had been injured when he was younger, and we knew we couldn’t have biological children.”
Jessica has heard that part before.
What she has never heard is what came next.
“We talked for a long time,” her mother says. “All three of us. Nobody made the decision quickly.”
Brenda’s voice breaks.
“I had scholarship opportunities. Your mom and Robert could give you stability that I couldn’t give you then.”
She looks directly at Jessica.
“So I made the hardest decision of my life.”
Jessica touches the pendant still lying on the table.
“You gave me to them.”
“I asked them to become your parents.”
The distinction matters.
Jessica can hear it in Brenda’s voice.
Her mother reaches across the table and takes Brenda’s hand.
Brenda continues.
“I had the pendant made before I left. One half for me. One half for you. We agreed you would receive yours when you were thirteen.”
Jessica looks at the two halves.
“You kept yours?”
Brenda nods.
“I’ve worn it for fifteen years.”
Jessica’s eyes fill again.
“Then where were you?”
“I went to university. Later my studies and work took me farther away. I was supposed to come back sooner.”
Brenda looks ashamed.
“The last few years became complicated. I was overseas finishing my studies, and I lost touch more than I ever intended.”
Jessica looks at her mother.
“But you knew where she was?”
“Not always. There were several years when we didn’t.”
Jessica thinks about the mysterious woman she has imagined for so long.
Then she remembers something else.
“You followed us at the mill.”
Brenda nods.
“I was driving past to see whether the old place was still standing. I saw your group there. I noticed you, but I wasn’t certain.”
“The archives?”
“I was checking on some research Dorothy was doing for me. I saw you again.”
“And then your class.”
“That was when I knew.”
Jessica turns away.
She is happy.
She is angry.
She is relieved.
She feels betrayed.
She wants to laugh at the absurdity of having spent days searching for ghosts while something far more important was standing directly in front of her.
William.
Suddenly she remembers his strange behaviour around Brenda.
The book.
The necklace.
His questions.
Did he know?
That thought can wait.
Jessica looks at Brenda.
“Why did you come back?”
Brenda does not hesitate.
“Because this is home.”
Then, more quietly:
“And because you’re here.”
Jessica’s tears spill over.
Brenda stays where she is.
She does not reach for her.
She does not assume she has the right.
For the next twenty minutes, Jessica asks questions.
Some answers make her smile.
Others hurt.
A few create more questions.
Eventually, the room grows quiet.
Brenda looks at her.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jessica wipes her face.
“What?”
“Can I hug you?”
Jessica looks at the woman across from her.
For years she imagined meeting her biological mother.
Sometimes the woman in those dreams had a face.
Sometimes she did not.
Never once did Jessica imagine Brenda Waters.
She pushes back her chair.
Brenda begins to stand.
Jessica crosses the room before she can get all the way up and throws her arms around her.
Brenda holds her tightly.
“I’ve waited fifteen years to do this,” she whispers. “I love you, Jessica. I never stopped.”
Jessica closes her eyes.
“I used to dream that you’d come back one day.”
Brenda begins crying harder.
“So did I.”
They remain like that for several moments.
Then Jessica looks towards her mother.
Missy is crying too.
Jessica walks over and hugs her.
“You’re still my mom.”
Her mother laughs through her tears.
“I certainly hope so.”
“You’re the best mom I could have had.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They sit again.
Brenda puts her half of the necklace back on.
She slides Jessica’s across the table.
Jessica fastens it around her neck.
“So what happens now?”
Her mother answers first.
“Nothing has to happen.”
Jessica looks confused.
“We’ve always been honest with you about being adopted. Your father and I promised to love you as our daughter for the rest of our lives. That hasn’t changed tonight.”
Jessica turns towards Brenda.
Brenda nods.
“I’m not here to replace anybody. Your mom is your mom. Robert is your dad.”
She smiles faintly.
“I’m somebody you’ve only really known for a few days, even if I’ve known about you your entire life.”
“What do you want?”
“The chance to know you.”
Brenda pauses.
“But only if you want that too.”
Jessica looks between the two women.
The strange thing is that beneath all the confusion, she knows the answer.
“I do.”
Brenda smiles.
“But I’m still mad you both kept this from me all week.”
Her mother nods.
“That’s fair.”
Brenda manages a small laugh.
“Also fair.”
That helps.
The tension breaks just enough for Jessica to smile.
For the next hour, they talk.
Jessica asks about Brenda’s family.
Her childhood.
College.
Why she became interested in the paranormal.
She asks about her biological father, though Brenda can tell her only what she knows.
Not every answer is satisfying.
Not every feeling is resolved.
Jessica does not expect them to be.
But by the time the conversation begins winding down, something that has been missing from her life for as long as she can remember finally has a name and a face.
Brenda.
Jessica stands.
“I think I need sleep.”
Her mother hugs her.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
“Good night, Mom.”
Then Jessica turns towards Brenda.
For a moment, neither knows what to do.
Jessica hugs her again.
When she steps back, she smiles awkwardly.
“So… what do I call you now?”
Brenda smiles.
“Brenda will do just fine.”
Jessica touches the pendant at her chest.
“For now.”
Brenda’s eyes fill again.
“For now.”
Jessica heads upstairs.
At her bedroom door, she looks back once.
Her mother and Brenda are still sitting together at the table.
Two women who have shared a secret for almost her entire life.
Tonight, that secret finally became hers too.
Jessica closes her bedroom door.
For the first time, when she imagines her biological mother, she can see her face.