There was silence on the other end.
. “—and take it one step at a time.
Kate waited. Then it all came out. How she believed ostracizing Mary because of the bad choices Mary made was what was required of her; how angry she was when she found out, after the fact, that Suzanne was in regular contact with her Aunt; how she blamed Mary for causing Suzanne to drop out of school; how much worse it was when she found out that Suzanne was deceiving her by enticing Eric to come east for college. She was surprised when Eileen interrupted to say that as far as she knew Eric hadn’t spoken to Suzanne until the prior Thanksgiving, when he said he’d already applied for early admission to Yale.
Eileen then told her to stop so they could both catch their breaths. Kate sounded exhausted.
“Kate. Just listen to me for a minute. You sound like you’re pacing again. Can you sit down?” After an “Okay,” she continued. “I didn’t know what would happen if I contacted you. I just became engaged—I’m a widow and Kerry’s dad has been gone for eight years—and I realized that by marrying again I was enlarging my own family. Your daughter is already part of my family. Your daughter.”
“Mary and you and the rest.” Kate was shouting, her earlier calmness gone. “You made her think she’s gay, an abomination, and she abandoned us, and that I’ve abandoned her.”
“Stop. Just stop. If you think that I feel sorry for you. I didn’t call to get into a debate about the Church’s position on gay marriage. I’m long past caring about the Church’s teachings about anything. Okay? Here’s the thing. Right now Suzanne has me. She has Mary and Betty as her aunts and their two boys as her cousins. All right here in New York. She doesn’t think she needs you. I called because Mary and I think she does. We don’t care what you think of us but what matters is that Mary and I think she needs you. I will never be her mother. That’s you.”
Eileen’s temper had risen beyond where it had ever been.
“After what you and your husband said about Mary that Thanksgiving—yes, they both heard you. Even if you don’t remember they both do, how you called Mary a ‘bitch.’
“So here’s the deal. I know you think I’m a nasty, manipulative bitch”—which is precisely what Kate thought she was—”but I’m not. I’m a mother. That’s why I contacted you. I am Kerry’s mother. You’re Suzanne’s mother. And all I am doing right now is telling you that I don’t care what you’ve done. That’s between you and your daughter.”
Monday, 10 p. m.
Kate spent much of the rest of the day driving and the rest staring out over the Pacific. She had not yet figured out how she could get Suzanne back, but she knew she had to take advantage of this opportunity that had appeared out of nowhere just the day before. When she spoke to her husband, he endorsed the plan, to do whatever it took to convince Suzanne to return home.
Wednesday, 5 p. m.
Tom was finishing a conference call when Emma, his assistant, buzzed him to say that a Kathleen Nelson was in the lobby. He asked her to let them know that he was on his way down to get her. As he passed Emma, he said he’d be gone for the rest of the day and that Ms. Nelson was one of Suzanne’s relatives. Emma knew who Suzanne was, having met her a few weeks back when she and Kerry Neally had unexpectedly stopped by to take Tom to lunch, although when he got back he said, “Somehow I ended up picking up the check.”
In the lobby, Tom immediately recognized a lady-that-lunched. Slim and of medium height with blonde hair of questionable but tasteful (and expensive) provenance, she wore a black dress with a white collar and black pumps, sunglasses over her hair. A nice, black leather bag was draped over her shoulder—if he knew anything he would have recognized it as Channel—and a travel bag was at her feet as she stood by the window, looking out at Park Avenue. Her stoicism masked a cauldron of uncertainty lurking just beneath her surface; she had long been able to shield herself from prying eyes with her feigned steeliness.
“Kate Nelson?” Tom said and when she turned, visibly but scarcely relaxing, “Tom Doyle. Thanks for coming.”
“Please call me Mrs. Nelson. I’m kidding, it’s just Kate. Thanks for having me. It’s been a while since I’ve been in New York. It is sort of liberating. I’m always on my guard in San Francisco.”
Tom said he was just off the phone with some people there and that it’s one of his favorite cities. He paused. “Kate, we appreciate you coming here. All Eileen and I, and Mary”—which generated a slight shutter in the woman he was addressing—”want is to do what’s right for Suzanne. We’ve not told her or Kerry, Eileen’s daughter, anything about your discussions. So, if you’re ready—”
And the two walked silently over to Madison and the pub on 47th Street, with Kate carrying her Channel bag and Tom pulling her travel bag. They had a 5:30 reservation for four. When they walked in, they were both seated at a quiet table in the back. Eileen and Mary would come at about 5:45 and were sitting in a nearby Starbucks while Kate and Tom were being seated, giving Tom the chance to break the ice.