Chapter 8: The Daughter Who Finally Asked Questions
Brianna arrived at our house the following evening.
She looked nothing like the confident woman who had stood beneath the ballroom chandeliers.
Her hair was tied back carelessly. Her makeup was gone. She wore an oversized sweater and held her handbag tightly against her chest.
“Can we talk?””
I stepped aside.
“Come in.””
She entered my bedroom and immediately noticed the original collection portfolio on my desk.
“Is that Grandma Claire's?””
“Yes.””
She moved closer.
“Can I see it?””
I hesitated.
Then I opened it.
Brianna turned the pages slowly.
Her fingers stopped at a sketch of a white evening gown.
“Mom showed me this once.””
I looked at her.
“When?””
“About two years ago. She told me it was a design she had created with Grandma Claire.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Did she tell you who actually designed it?””
“No.””
Brianna sat down.
“She always said your mother had taken credit for things that belonged to her.””
I opened the original agreement.
“Then read this.””
She examined the signatures.
Her face changed.
“Mom sold the collection?””
“Yes.””
“But she told me she never received any money.””
I showed her the payment records.
Brianna stared at the amount.
“Why would she lie?””
“Because she wanted the collection back.””
Brianna closed the folder.
Then she whispered:
“I think she lied about my father too.””
I nodded.
“His name is Daniel Cole.””
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Is he really alive?””
“Yes.””
“Does he know about me?””
“He has kept your photographs for years.””
Brianna covered her mouth.
For a moment, she looked like the little girl in the yellow dress.
“Can I meet him?””
“He wants that more than anything.””
She began crying.
I sat beside her.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
Then Brianna wiped her cheeks.
“Eleanor, there's something else.””
“What?””
“Mom told me you agreed to withdraw your scholarship application.””
“I didn't.””
“I know.””
She looked down.
“She showed me a document with your signature. She said you had given me permission to use the gown.””
I stared at her.
“Did you believe her?””
“At first.””
“And later?””
She didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
“You knew it was mine.””
Brianna nodded.
“I did.””
I stood and walked toward the window.
“Why?””
“Because I wanted the scholarship.””
I turned.
“You already had everything.””
She laughed bitterly.
“That's what everyone thought. But Mom kept telling me I wasn't good enough. She said I had to prove I deserved the family name.””
“So you took my work.””
“Yes.””
The honesty hurt more than another excuse would have.
Brianna stood.
“I don't expect you to forgive me.””
“Good.””
She nodded.
“But I want to make it right.””
“How?””
“I'll tell the committee what I did. I'll withdraw my application. I'll return the award if they ask.””
I looked at her.
“And the dress?””
“I'll give it back.””
“It's already damaged.””
Her eyes filled again.
“I know.””
She opened her handbag and removed a small velvet pouch.
Inside was a piece of ivory French lace.
I recognized it immediately.
Part of my mother's original wedding dress.
“Where did you find that?””
“Mom kept it in her jewelry drawer.””
I touched the lace.
“She said it was worthless,” Brianna whispered.
“But she wouldn't throw it away.””
I looked at the tiny embroidered flowers.
It was one of the few pieces that had survived untouched.
“Thank you.””
Brianna nodded.
Then she asked the question I hadn't expected.
“Would you come with me when I meet Dad?””
I looked at her.
“Yes.””
We met Daniel at a quiet café in Providence.
He stood when Brianna entered.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then Daniel whispered:
“Brianna?””
She nodded.
“Hi.””
He smiled, but tears were already running down his face.
“You have your mother's eyes.””
Brianna laughed nervously.
“Which mother?””
Daniel reached across the table.
“Vanessa gave you her eyes. Claire gave you her kindness.””
Brianna looked at him.
“Did you really try to find me?””
“Every year.””
“Why didn't you come?””
“I tried. Your mother made sure I couldn't.””
He took out a photograph.
It showed Brianna as a toddler, sitting on his shoulders.
“I kept this because I didn't want to forget your face.””
Brianna touched the photograph.
“I thought you didn't want me.””
Daniel shook his head.
“I never stopped wanting to be your father.””
She began crying.
Then she leaned across the table and hugged him.
I turned toward the window.
Some things were too painful to watch without remembering your own losses.
That evening, we returned home.
Vanessa was waiting in the dining room.
Two suitcases stood beside her.
Her expression hardened when she saw Brianna.
“Where have you been?””
“With Dad.””
Vanessa froze.
“What?””
“I met Daniel.””
She looked at me.
“You had no right.””
Brianna stepped forward.
“He's my father.””
“He abandoned you!””
“No. You told me he did.””
Vanessa slammed her handbag onto the table.
“Everything I did was to protect you!””
Brianna opened her folder.
“Then explain this.””
She placed the forged ownership document on the table.
“Why did you register the collection under my name when I was three?””
Vanessa stared at it.
“That's a family matter.””
“Why did you forge Dad's signature?””
“Richard signed what he needed to sign.””
“No, he didn't.””
My father entered the dining room.
“I never signed that document.””
Vanessa turned toward him.
“Richard, don't.””
He placed an envelope on the table.
“I've spoken to an attorney. I've also submitted a written statement to Halston.””
Vanessa's expression changed.
“You wouldn't do that.””
“I already did.””
She looked at me.
“You think you've won?””
I remained silent.
She turned toward Brianna.
“You're choosing them over me?””
Brianna's voice trembled.
“I'm choosing the truth.””
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“After everything I've sacrificed?””
“You sacrificed Eleanor's future. You stole Claire's work. And you lied to me about my own father.””
Vanessa slapped the table.
“I gave you everything!””
Brianna shook her head.
“You gave me things that belonged to other people.””
For several seconds, Vanessa stood motionless.
Then she picked up her handbag.
“You'll regret this.””
She walked toward the door.
My father stepped aside.
Before leaving, Vanessa turned toward me.
“Monday will not go the way you think.””
Then she disappeared into the night.
At 11:36 p.m., an email arrived from the Halston committee.
*URGENT: ADDITIONAL EVIDENCE SUBMITTED BY VANESSA COLE.*
I opened it.
Vanessa was requesting an injunction against my use of the French lace and the original collection.
Her argument was that the lace belonged to the Cole family estate.
Attached was an old handwritten inventory.
At the bottom was my mother's signature.
Claire Bennett.
I stared at it.
The document was dated September 1997.
But the receipt in my mother's notebook showed she had purchased the lace in 1998.
Something wasn't right.
Then I noticed a second attachment.
A photograph of a letter.
It was written by my mother.
And one sentence made my blood run cold.
Vanessa must never discover that the original lace was never hers to sell.
I looked at the date.
The letter had been written two weeks before my mother's death.
May you like
And beneath it was another name.
*Margaret Laurent.*
