Sunrise Point

“I really think you have to look into this,” Noah said.

“But what if he’s a bad person? What if he abused me like my mother said?”

“I believe I can keep you safe. I know you’re not going to throw your trust into him before you have all the evidence you need that he deserves it. If you don’t want to see him on home turf, I’d be willing to take you to the Bay Area or somewhere in between to meet with him. If what he’s saying is true or even partially true, he must have some documentation—marriage license, divorce papers, photos, something. Obviously without documentation, you don’t necessarily have to believe him.”

“But…but is she really dead? My mother?”

“Therese Alice Sealy Crane, age sixty two years ago?”

She nodded numbly.

“There is a public record of her death. I’m so sorry, Nora.”

“She hated me,” Nora said in a whisper, as though it was a shameful secret.

Noah was shaking his head. “Maybe she had a difficult time showing affection or love. Maybe there were things you didn’t understand when you were a girl. Maybe her best effort at being a good mother was just not very good at all.”

“Or maybe she hated me,” Nora said.

“Right now you have more questions than answers. Consider looking for some of those answers. What’s the worst-case scenario? That everything you think you know about your parents is true? To verify that rather than wonder—that could help set you on a path of rebuilding your life.”

“I’m not that strong,” she said.

Noah actually gave a little laugh. “Oh, you’re by far one of the strongest women I know. And the most gentle. But I leave this entirely to you—just know that I’m here for you, willing to be your partner in this next step.”

“I don’t know. I’m going to have to think about it.”

“Go ahead and think about it. Your father didn’t hint at any urgency in contacting you… .”

“There you go—urgency! What if he’s only looking for me because he needs a kidney or something? What if he wants to make amends for doing terrible things to me that I was too young to remember? I’m better off not knowing, right? Because all those hard years with my mother were bad enough without adding more awful stuff… .”

“Just think it over and if you want to talk about it, we can talk it through before you make a decision. The good news is we can find him easily. And he wants to be found.”

* * *

Just think it over? Nora could think of nothing else the following week and picking apples was the perfect job—she could indulge in obsessive remembering while filling up her bag.

There were very few times while growing up that Nora braved her mother’s emotional outbursts to ask questions about her father or express her desire to know him. It was a dicey proposition; Nora was never sure whether Therese would rage, “How can you keep putting me through this? Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself?” Or she might cry, “I’ve done my best for you, rescued you from a horrible father, can’t you just be grateful for what you have and stop torturing me?” And there was always the chance she’d just slap her and scream, “I should’ve just let him take you, then you’d know what real abuse is!”

She had no idea the nature of this abuse her mother put on her father, but she knew exactly what kind of abuse she suffered at her mother’s hands. Her mother had dramatic mood swings and she was never sure which woman was coming home from work each day. It could be the Therese in an upbeat mood with plans for a treat, like pizza for dinner and an evening of watching all their favorite TV shows or it could be the woman in a foul temper who blamed the stress of her work, a long day of listening to screwed-up crazy people’s problems. Or, sadly, one of the best options was when her mother went out after work, meeting friends for dinner or a movie or shopping, friends that Nora rarely got to know because it was so seldom Therese brought them home.

She struggled to remember when she fully realized that Therese almost never had a girlfriend who lasted a whole year, and Nora understood why. Therese was difficult, selfish, short-tempered and completely unpredictable. She was also very funny at times—she could certainly make people laugh when she wasn’t in a snit. She was attractive and well turned out and had a great singing voice she exercised when in a happy state. When Therese laughed and sang, Nora held her breath, afraid to let herself enjoy it.

But Nora was probably all of seven or eight when she began saying I will not be like my mother over and over to herself. When she found herself pregnant with Berry she was terrified that something would happen to her and she’d wake up one morning finding she hated her child, discovering she couldn’t control her anger.

* * *

Noah turned up at her house after work three evenings during that week, just to give her an opportunity to talk. News of her mother’s death brought out all these issues she had with her mother, which she told Noah.

“But what about this father of mine?” Nora asked. “Right in the area and never a phone call? Never any contact, any help to deflect some of my mother’s more cruel moments?”

“Yet another thing to ask, to try to understand,” Noah said.

“He’s either a very bad man or a very negligent man,” Nora said. “He had a daughter! Shouldn’t he have done something? Was my mother right? That I was better off? Because it’s hard to imagine being better off alone with her.”

“When you’re ready, you can ask these questions,” Noah said.

“I have a full-time job, thank God,” she said. “I can’t leave the kids with Adie and leave town. And I’m not letting him anywhere near my children.”

“All these concerns are resolvable. Once you settle on a day—a day that I can take you—I’ll ask Ellie to help out with the girls. She’s wonderful with babies and was a huge help to Vanessa Haggerty when she adopted a nine-month-old before her eighteen-month-old was out of diapers.” Noah laughed and shook his head. “It was insane—and all turned out well. Remember Paul Haggerty? He plowed the roads in town last Christmas and sent one of his crews over to your house to seal the windows and doors.”

“Listen, I don’t need everyone in town knowing that Nora Crane has yet another crisis, that I’m from a crazier background than they even imagined.”

“I know it sometimes seems that way, Nora—that everyone else has a normal, average, functional life and only you have stuff to work out. Believe me, I know the feeling. But really, it’s not that way. I come from a pretty crazy family, and poor Ellie—she had such trials growing up, taking care of her kids alone before we met. When you get to know her better, you can ask—Ellie is very up-front about everything. For right now, let’s think about the challenge you’re facing. You need to see your father. Talk to him. Ask him questions. Ask for some documentation that he’s really your father, that your parents were divorced and he chose not to see you, et cetera. First find out what he has to say and then let’s work on understanding what happened.”

“I won’t put my girls at risk,” she said.

“Absolutely not,” Noah agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

* * *

Of course Nora told her closest girlfriends what was going on—Adie and Martha, both in their seventies, and Leslie, the much younger neighbor a few doors down. Those three women had included Nora in gab sessions on the porch and shared stories and it happened they agreed with Noah—that she should face her father with her questions.

Of course she hadn’t mentioned anything at the orchard. She didn’t feel close enough to anyone there to talk about her personal business. In fact she had been so preoccupied thinking about her mother’s death and her father’s reappearance, she did her job mechanically, the hours passing like minutes while her mind was in another place.

She showed up at the crossroad of 36 and the road to Virgin River and there sat that familiar big white truck. And there he was, leaning against it. Waiting.

“Wow,” she said, stopped in her tracks.

“Hop in,” Tom invited.

She went around the front of the truck and climbed up and in the cab. “I bet when your grandmother forced you to hire me, you didn’t foresee taxi service.”

“Is everything all right, Nora?” he asked before starting the truck.

She was startled by the question. No, things were not all right. But it was personal business. It had nothing to do with her job. “Fine,” she said. “Why?”

“You’ve been really quiet,” he said.

He’d noticed? she wondered. “I have?” she asked.

He nodded. “Your muscles okay? Back, shoulders, et cetera?”

“Yes. No problems. Why are you quizzing me?”

“I don’t mean to pry, but I thought I should ask because… Well, you had some injuries before and kept it to yourself.”

“I don’t have any injuries.”