“No,” I say. Polly’s expression turns shocked. “Georgia is staying. I asked her here, because, yes, you left ten years ago and I was nervous about seeing you.” I glance at Georgia. “Please stop, though, Georgia, or we won’t get anywhere.”
“Sorry,” Georgia says, backing down.
“And you won’t come into my home and start making demands,” I say, turning back to Polly. “You’re coming into my house, because you want to see the daughter you left me to raise. You won’t set the terms for how this goes. Now, it’s up to you; you can either deal with Georgia sitting here quietly, or you can walk out that door and never come back.”
Polly hesitates. And then, slowly, she sits down at the table.
“I would like a coffee, please,” she says stiffly, yet politely, to Georgia.
I give Georgia a hard look, and she nods, quirking a small, impressed smile before busying herself with the coffees. I take a seat at the table too and breathe in deeply one last time.
It’s off to a bad start but, just maybe, we can salvage this.
Chapter Eleven
Ethan
Georgia is staring at me. I know she has never seen me stand up to Polly like that before. Even when we were together, I would back down when her temper flared, well aware that things could escalate and get ugly if we both got angry. I think my reaction surprised Polly, too.
Though she needs to think again if she believes that the Ethan she’s meeting is the same Ethan from ten years ago. I watch as this realization seems to cross her face, and she visibly calms herself, closing her eyes briefly, before nodding and turning to look at me, ignoring Georgia entirely.
I’m okay with that. Georgia has said her piece, for better or worse. And I know my message to her was clear; Georgia needs to behave herself or I’ll ask her to leave too. Which, in all honesty, I feel is fair enough at this point. This is already difficult, so Georgia also needs to calm down, before she makes it worse.
Though, I understand that it’s hard. Seeing Polly again reminded me of just how angry I am at her, too.
“So…” Polly says awkwardly.
“We’re here to talk about Lily,” I say. Then my eyes flash and I lift my chin. “But there are a few questions I have for you, first. You owe me those answers.”
Polly sighs, resigned.
“I do,” she agrees. “Ask me anything, I’ll tell you the truth. I should have put this to rest a long time ago. I’m sorry.”
My lips tighten. I don’t say “it’s alright”, because it really isn’t. Dimly, it crosses my mind that I’m honestly surprised at how well I’m handling this, considering how nervous I was before. Maybe Georgia’s argument with Polly actually did some good.
Though, now that I’ve been given free rein over what to ask, I’m struggling with what to start with. I can easily ask “why?”, but that’s very broad.
“Why are you here?” I finally ask. “What made you decide to contact us after ten years?”
“As I said in my letter, I wanted to before now, but I was a coward,” Polly says. Her shoulders slump. “Then, two months ago, my father had a heart attack and passed away. It put some things in perspective, I guess. Life goes on, and you can lose something before you even know it. I’d been putting off contacting you and Lily for too long. What if something happened to either of you or to me? So…I sat down and wrote you a letter.”
“How did you find where I was?” I ask stiffly; that was the question playing on my mind.
“Actually, I’ve known for about a year and a half,” Polly admits. “One of your old work buddies moved to Newark with his wife and children. I made friends with his wife. He mentioned you in passing at dinner one night when he was talking about his old friends. I never told him I was your ex-wife, but, when I knew where you were, I was able to find you.”
Surprisingly simple, and not as invasive as I had feared, considering who her husband is.
However, Polly has known where I live for a whole year and a half, and has only now worked up the courage to contact me. I file that piece of information away to consider later.
“Right,” I say. I glance at Georgia as she brings the coffee carefully over and sits quietly. “Thanks, Georgia.”
“Thank you,” Polly says, inclining her head toward me.
“I am sorry to hear of your father’s passing, we always got along,” I say after a moment. I narrow the question. “Which begs the question of why your parents treated me so badly following your abandonment, and why they have never tried to be part of their granddaughter’s life.”
Polly winces. I’m not sure I need her to answer this one; I’ve long suspected the reason, despicable as it is, but I want to hear the words from her.
“I never told them I abandoned you and Lily,” she says, looking at the table. Georgia looks up sharply. I’ve never shared this suspicion with her, but now I wish I had, because I’m not sure she’ll stay quiet on this one. “I told them you were abusing me.”