The easy explanation was squashed when I saw my father’s elegant signature
listed under borrower. It made no sense. Did he help her buy a house?
“Caitlyn, put that away,” my mother hissed.
I ignored her and flipped to the next page. A purchase contract for a Porsche.
Again, Judy and my father both signed as the borrowers. Before I understood what I was reading, it was ripped out of my hands.
“This is not your business,” my mother cried.
I lunged, trying to take it back.
“No!” she shrieked. “This is my problem.”
“Why did he buy her a car and house? What else is in there?” I asked.
She pulled a long lighter from a drawer and lit the papers on fire. Like a woman possessed, she shook the burning pile. “Leave it be, Caitlyn. Let his secrets die with him,” she pleaded.
When the fire began to burn out of control, she threw it into the sink and let
it extinguish itself. I ran to save the papers. She couldn’t keep me from the truth.
As I neared her, my mother caught, and pulled, me into her arms.
“Nothing in there changes how much your father loved you. The only thing
you can take from this is to never sit back and be the helpless woman. Always
protect yourself… no matter how much you love the man.”
The night I found the envelope shattered me. Had my life been a lie? Every loving gesture, every moment was scrutinized. When my brain could handle no
more, I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I found my mother in the kitchen. The woman of my
childhood was before me once again, as if nothing had changed. She was perfectly posed to play Gregory Chase’s wife. Beautiful appearance. Immaculate
house. Cheery disposition.
“Good morning, Caitlyn. I prepared a document for you with all the information you need to know about your father and Ms. Savage. We shall speak
no further on the unsavory subject. We will remember Gregory as the perfect husband, father, and surgeon he was,” my mother said, handing me a square envelope.
I stared at it. Caitlyn was written in beautiful calligraphy. She even took the time to wax seal it with our family monogram. It seemed more like she was inviting me to a dinner party, not revealing the secrets of my unfaithful father.
“Come, sit and eat your breakfast. You can read that later,” she insisted, setting down a plate of my favorite Bananas Foster French toast, sprinkled with
roasted pecans.
In a daze, I picked at my breakfast. The entire time, I eyed the envelope.
“Go ahead and open it. You won’t enjoy the meal I prepared until you get this over with,” my mother scolded and slid the letter closer to me.
My hands shook as I opened it and pulled out the single piece of textured paper from inside.
There were only six words. He loved you. Nothing Else Matters. All my questions were not answered. She decided to seal the issue, and I would never know the truth. Instead, my mother told me to forget what I saw.
Our eyes met, and I saw her desperation…her need for me to let it go. Was
she right? Did nothing else matter? Suddenly, a huge weight was lifted from me.
I understood.
It wasn’t Hillary Chase avoiding the truth. It was how she preserved her sanity. Pressing my mother to answer questions about my father’s indiscretions
would not change the life we had before. It would only tear her apart… and maybe me, as well.
I slid the paper back into the envelope, closing this chapter of my life.
Resting my hand on hers, I smiled, and said, “Thank you.”
