Chapter 2 - The Stranger Who Recognized the Orchid
Jenna did not pack like a woman planning to leave forever.
That would have taken too long.
She packed like a mother who knew she had one quiet hour before the man outside decided humiliation was no longer entertaining enough.
Three pairs of pajamas for Paisley.
Two changes of clothes.
The purple stuffed elephant Paisley could not sleep without.
Birth certificates.
Insurance cards.
Medicine.
Jenna’s old laptop.
The emergency envelope she had hidden inside the lining of a suitcase almost two years earlier.
Then she stopped.
Paisley sat on the bed watching her.
The little girl’s cheeks were still wet.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Is my cake gone?”
Jenna swallowed.
Most adults would remember the shouting.
The phone recording.
Alan’s hand.
Holly’s smile.
But Paisley was four.
She remembered a pink cake decorated with sugar butterflies.
“It got messy.”
“Daddy broke it?”
Jenna sat beside her.
“Daddy made a very bad choice.”
Paisley looked down.
“Was I bad?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“Were you bad?”
Jenna’s chest tightened.
“No.”
“Then why Daddy did that?”
There was no answer a four-year-old needed.
So Jenna pulled her daughter into her arms.
“Sometimes grown-ups make hurtful choices because they’re angry. It is not your job to fix them.”
Paisley pressed her face against Jenna’s shoulder.
Outside, people laughed again.
The party had resumed.
That sound changed something inside Jenna more permanently than Alan’s cruelty had.
Forty-seven people had watched.
Some were relatives.
Some claimed to love Paisley.
Some had eaten at Jenna’s table.
And once she disappeared inside, the music came back.
Life continued because acknowledging what happened would have required everyone to make an uncomfortable decision.
Jenna would make hers for them.
They were leaving.
She changed her frosting-stained blouse.
Washed Paisley’s hands.
Then opened the emergency envelope.
Inside:
Nine hundred dollars in cash.
A copy of Paisley’s birth certificate.
A small key.
And the letter her mother had written shortly before dying six years earlier.
Jenna had read only the first line.
Open this when staying somewhere hurts more than leaving.
She had always stopped there.
Not tonight.
But first she needed to get out.
Jenna placed the letter in her purse.
Then lifted the silver orchid ring from beneath her blouse.
Her mother had worn it on her right hand for as long as Jenna could remember.
After Claire Monroe died, Jenna placed it on a chain because it was too large for her finger.
Alan hated it.
“It looks old.”
“It is old.”
“Sell it.”
“No.”
“How much is it worth?”
“I don’t know.”
That was a lie.
Jenna genuinely did not know the dollar amount.
But she knew it was worth more than money because Claire’s last lucid conversation had been about that ring.
“If you ever decide you deserve better than what someone is giving you, wear this where people can see it.”
Jenna had laughed.
“Mom, it’s jewelry, not Batman’s signal.”
Claire smiled weakly.
“You’d be surprised what people recognize.”
At the time, Jenna thought medication had made her mother dramatic.
Now she slid the ring beneath her blouse again.
Not yet.
She opened the bedroom door.
The hallway was empty.
Downstairs, the party continued.
Jenna carried one bag.
Paisley carried the elephant.
They used the side staircase.
Almost made it.
Then Alan stepped through the kitchen door.
He was holding a beer.
“Where are you going?”
Jenna stopped.
Paisley gripped her hand.
“Home.”
Alan laughed.
“You are home.”
“No.”
He looked at the bag.
Then his expression changed.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Because of the cake?”
Jenna stared.
Because of the cake.
As though cake was the issue.
“Move.”
Alan stepped into the doorway.
“No.”
Paisley moved behind Jenna’s leg.
That settled it.
Jenna’s voice became quieter.
“Alan, our daughter is watching.”
His eyes moved toward Paisley.
For half a second, shame appeared.
Then Ashley entered.
Phone still in hand.
“Oh my God. She’s really leaving?”
Jenna looked at her.
Ashley wore one of Alan’s favorite watches.
A men’s Rolex Jenna had given him for their fifth anniversary.
Interesting.
Ashley noticed Jenna looking.
She smiled.
“This?”
She raised her wrist.
“He said it didn’t mean anything anymore.”
Jenna felt surprisingly little.
Good.
Alan turned toward Ashley.
“Go outside.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
Ashley rolled her eyes and left.
Jenna looked at Alan.
“Move.”
“Where will you go?”
“Not your concern.”
“With my daughter?”
“Our daughter.”
“You can’t just take her.”
“I’m taking Paisley somewhere safe tonight.”
Alan lowered his voice.
“You want to make me look abusive?”
Jenna almost laughed.
“You recorded yourself doing that in front of forty-seven witnesses.”
His face changed.
“Ashley recorded.”
“Yes.”
“And uploaded it.”
Alan froze.
“What?”
Apparently he had not known that part.
Good.
Jenna stepped around him.
This time he let her.
Maybe because guests could see through the glass.
Maybe because Paisley was watching.
Maybe because he still believed Jenna would be back once she realized a waitress could not afford independence.
As Jenna crossed the garden, Holly spotted her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Jenna kept walking.
Holly followed.
“Alan!”
Heads turned.
The music slowed again.
Jenna hated that she had become entertainment twice in one evening.
Then a man stepped into her path.
Dark suit.
Silver hair at the temples.
Alexander Whitfield.
Jenna did not know his name yet.
She tightened her grip on Paisley.
“Excuse me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Alexander moved immediately.
Not blocking.
Important.
Then the chain slipped from Jenna’s blouse as she adjusted the bag.
The silver ring swung into view.
Alexander stopped breathing.
Actually stopped.
His face changed so dramatically Jenna noticed despite everything.
His eyes locked on the orchid.
“Where did you get that?”
Jenna instinctively covered it.
“Why?”
“I’m sorry.”
Alexander raised both hands slightly.
“I shouldn’t have asked like that.”
Holly arrived behind them.
“She probably stole it.”
Alexander looked toward Holly.
Something in his expression silenced her.
Then he looked back at Jenna.
“That ring has an orchid engraved on the face.”
Jenna’s pulse changed.
“Yes.”
“And three small marks inside the band.”
She stared.
“How do you know?”
Alexander swallowed.
“One is a W.”
Jenna said nothing.
“One is a C.”
Her heart began pounding.
“And the third is a tiny number seven.”
Jenna’s fingers closed around the ring.
Only she knew the interior marks.
Her mother had shown them once.
“Who are you?”
Alexander’s voice became almost unsteady.
“My name is Alexander Whitfield.”
The surname hit something buried deep.
Claire’s letter.
Still unopened in Jenna’s purse.
Whitfield.
She had heard it exactly once as a child.
Her mother arguing on the telephone.
Tell Mr. Whitfield I don’t want his money.
Jenna had been nine.
Claire denied the conversation afterward.
Alexander looked at the ring.
“My grandmother commissioned three of those.”
Silence.
“One for each daughter.”
Jenna’s mouth went dry.
“My mother only had one daughter.”
“I’m not talking about your mother’s children.”
His eyes met hers.
“I’m talking about my grandmother’s.”
Jenna stared.
Then Alexander asked the question that divided her life into before and after.
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Claire Monroe.”
Alexander closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he looked as if someone had struck him.
When he opened them again, tears stood there.
“Was?”
Jenna swallowed.
“She died six years ago.”
Alexander looked away.
His jaw shook.
Jenna became suspicious.
“What is happening?”
He looked back.
“My older sister’s name was Claire Whitfield.”
The garden noise disappeared.
“She left our family thirty-two years ago.”
Jenna’s chest tightened.
“No.”
“She was twenty-four.”
“No.”
“She changed her surname to Monroe.”
Jenna stepped backward.
“No.”
Alexander stopped moving.
He did not reach for her.
Good.
“I was seventeen the last time I saw her.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Holly stared between them.
Alan had come outside.
“What’s going on?”
Alexander ignored him.
Jenna asked:
“Why would my mother never tell me she had a brother?”
Pain crossed Alexander’s face.
“I don’t know.”
Then:
“But if that ring belonged to Claire, I think you may be my niece.”
Alan laughed.
Actually laughed.
“This is insane.”
Alexander finally turned toward him.
“You’re Alan?”
“Who are you?”
“The man who watched you humiliate your wife in front of your child.”
Alan’s expression hardened.
“Stay out of my marriage.”
Alexander nodded once.
“Gladly.”
Then he looked at Jenna.
“If you need transportation, an attorney, a hotel, anything tonight, my assistant can arrange it.”
Jenna’s walls went up immediately.
“No.”
Alexander accepted it.
“Okay.”
That surprised her.
He took out a business card.
Placed it on a nearby table instead of handing it to her.
“No obligation.”
Then stepped away.
Jenna picked up Paisley.
Walked out.
Nobody stopped her.
Nina Alvarez, a coworker from the restaurant, answered on the second ring.
“Jenna?”
“Can we stay with you tonight?”
Nina heard her voice.
“Where are you?”
Twenty minutes later, Jenna and Paisley were in Nina’s apartment.
Small.
Warm.
Safe.
Paisley fell asleep on the couch holding her elephant.
Jenna sat alone at the kitchen table.
Then finally removed Claire’s letter.
Her hands shook.
She opened it past the first line.
Open this when staying somewhere hurts more than leaving.
Below it:
Jenna, if you are reading this, I hope you have finally chosen yourself. There is something I should have told you years ago. My name was not always Claire Monroe. I was born Claire Elizabeth Whitfield.
Jenna stopped breathing.
The stranger had told the truth.
May you like
And the next sentence was worse.
If Alexander Whitfield ever finds you, do not blame him for what happened to me. He was the only person in that family who tried to stop it.
