"No. I don't think there's anything that I would want," she said quietly.
"Well, it's there if you change your mind. If not, we can get rid of it." Annie turned to leave, but Jessie called her back.
"Annie, why did you hang onto me all these years?"
Annie turned back around and faced her.
"You're my daughter. I gave birth to you, brought you into this world. Jack couldn't take that away from me."
"I'm so sorry," Jessie whispered, letting her tears flow.
"Oh, Jessie. Don't cry, honey. It's not your fault." Annie walked into the room and stood before Jessie and took her hands. She was afraid Jessie would rebuff her offer of comfort but she pulled her into her arms anyway.
Jessie fell into to the hug, but only briefly before pulling away. She wiped at her cheeks and like any good mother, Annie miraculously produced a tissue from her pocket, and they smiled at each other as Jessie dried her eyes and blew her nose.
They walked together into the room that used to be Jack's and Jessie was surprised to discover that Annie had turned it into a library. Every wall was lined with shelves overflowing with books. In the center of the room was a recliner, a floor lamp and a small end table.
"Wow. You've read all of these?" Jessie asked as her eyes traveled over the numerous books, some classics, but most just popular fiction, from mysteries to romance.
"Oh, yes. I love to read. In the winter, especially, I'll sit nearly all day in here or by the fire."
They went back downstairs, and Annie went into the kitchen to check on dinner. "Go ahead and look in the study," she called.
Jessie was about to decline, but she shrugged. It wasn't so bad after all, this tour of her old house. She walked through the living room and down a short hallway. This was where Jack had spent most of his time at home. Occasionally, she would be allowed to join him, sitting on the sofa doing homework while he sat in his big chair and smoked a cigar, the daily paper spread out before him.
She pushed open the door and her eyes widened in surprise. The room had been turned into a studio for Annie. The two outside walls had been replaced with glass that offered spectacular views of the forest and Sierra Peak, now white with snow. Annie had several finished paintings stacked against one wall, but other than that neat stacking, the rest of the room was a mess. Her easel stood empty in the center of the room, a stained drop cloth lying beneath it. On the only table in the room, jars of brushes and containers of paint littered the top. This room was so different from the rest of the house, which was orderly and neat.
"I don't even try to keep it clean anymore," Annie said from the doorway.
"The view is incredible, Annie. I like it."
Annie walked into the room and peered up at Sierra Peak. "I didn't know how you would react to the house, Jessie. I didn't leave any reminders of Jack. I hope you understand why."
"Of course I understand, Annie. I wouldn't have expected you to." She met Annie's eyes for an instant. "I'm sorry it took me so long to... remember, to get back out here. It seems we've wasted so many years between us."
"I'm not that old," Annie said with a quiet laugh. "I hope we still have a few good ones left."
"I'll admit, I didn't think it would be this easy being here, being around you. You're not at all like I remember."
"If you had come here a few years ago, especially before Roger moved back here, things probably would be different. I was a very bitter woman for many years. Roger gave me an outlet to talk about the past and try to put everything in perspective. Now, there's Chris. She's been such a joy to me. She comes over a couple of times a week and we play cards and talk and drink wine."
Annie gently pushed Jessie from the room and closed the door behind her. Jessie settled on the sofa while Annie bent to get the fire started. Jessie was curious as to just how much Annie had told Chris about the old days. The look on her face must have said as much.
"Oh, don't think we sat around here and talked about you all the time. She was reading one of your books when she moved here and Roger told her who you were and that I lived here. She was naturally curious and on our first couple of visits we talked about you, but we've become friends. She keeps me up on the local gossip now," Annie said and laughed.
"I'm glad you invited me tonight, but I don't want to cut in on your time with her," Jessie said.
"Nonsense. I want you two to get to know each other better. I really hope you'll be friends."
"I think we'll be fine, Annie. I like Chris a lot."
"Good." She bent again to stick a match to the paper and they watched as it caught.
"Annie, tell me about the man you were seeing in San Francisco," Jessie said suddenly.
"My, where did that question come from?"
Jessie shrugged. "Chris told me some."
"His name was Jonathan and he was the attorney I went to see," she said.
"Why did you see an attorney?"
"I was going to divorce Jack. You were twelve and I was lonely," Annie said simply. "Only I couldn't go through with it, but Jonathan and I had become friends and he was someone to talk to. I would see him once or twice a month and eventually we became more than friends." Annie looked into the fire, seeing nothing, picturing Jonathan's warm face. "He was quite a bit older than me and a widower, but such a gentle man, Jessie, and I fell in love with him."
"Why didn't you go through with it?"
"Oh, I don't want to place any more guilt on you, Jessie, but I was worried about you. I didn't want to leave you alone here with Jack, in case you needed me. I was going to wait until you graduated high school, then go be with him."
"Only Jack found out first," Jessie said.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you go after Jack died? After I left?"
"After Jack died, I wouldn't see him at first, wouldn't even talk to him. It was very difficult at that time."
"You mean, I was difficult," Jessie stated. She did feel guilty. It was her fault that Annie had never had a life.
"Not just you, Jessie. The whole situation. Regardless, we stopped seeing each other," Annie said.
"What about later?"
"We talked occasionally, after you left, but it was never the same. He died a few years later," she said softly.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't think it's your fault. It's just life, is all. Some things, we can't control. Remember that."
Jessie nodded and again felt tears prick her eyes.
"Anyway, I made out just fine."
Annie left, saying she needed to check on dinner, and Jessie suspected she had tears in her own eyes.
Ten minutes later, Chris tapped on the door and let herself in. Jessie was sitting on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. Her eyes flew up, meeting Chris's questioning ones easily.
"Hi," she said. She put the magazine down and stood, lightly crossing her arms.
"Hello, Jessie." Chris closed the door but stood there, unmoving. "I didn't expect to see you here," she said. "Everything okay?"
"Yes, fine. Annie invited me," she explained. Then lowered her voice. "I guess I should warn you, she intends for us to be friends," she said with a smile.
"I see. Guess we don't have a choice then." She walked slowly over to Jessie and stood in front of her, her lips forming into a smile. "I'm glad you're getting along. You are getting along, right?"
"Oh yes. It's been fine. I never would have believed it possible," she confessed. "It's almost as if we've not been estranged all these years, you know. I mean, there's still a lot we've not discussed, but I don't know if we even need to. What good will it do? I think maybe just starting fresh with us is the way it should be."
"I think if that will work for you both, then go for it. You might be right. What good will it do to drag out all the old history and get you both upset?"