Free Becoming the Butlers by Penny Jackson

sixteen doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, and can’t help but hurt people when he realizes his mistake. That maybe your mom wasn’t so happy either.”
    “She was very happy,” I insisted. “We all were, until you came around.”
    “Lizzie wasn’t happy, Rachel,” he said quietly. “Hell, why do you think she kept running away all the time?”
    “She just needed a breath of fresh air,” I said, hearing how hollow her explanation really sounded.
    “I know what she told you. I know what she told herself. If Lizzie loved your dad, maybe she could have stood up to his booze. She married him to get away from her parents. She was just a kid too.”
    “She did too love him,” I continued stubbornly. “He loves her and he won’t give her up.”
    “Well I could put up a damn good fight too,” George said menacingly. His hands curled up into fists and he waved the fork like a weapon. “But someone’s just going to get hurt. Let me try to explain to you what happened, Rachel. Your mother and I—now I know this sounds corny, but we both just got swept away.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked, taking a fork and slicing some of the omelette. It occurred to me that if an outsider saw me sharing this plate with George, they might think we were father and daughter.
    “Swept away. Like being hit by a wave. Every time I was with your mother I had trouble breathing, and I felt as if I was almost drowning. No one and nothing else mattered. I remember once being stuck on the subway and thinking every second delayed is a second away from your mother…and I almost wept. I simply forgot about Isabel and the kids. You could walk into a room, speak to me, but I wouldn’t see you, and even if I answered, I still wouldn’t hear. Your mom felt the same way. She was the one who wanted to run away to Spain.”
    “She was the one!” I exclaimed. “I don’t believe it.”
    “I was willing to move out, never see her again, though God knows it would have killed me. But Lizzie found out...” George paused and looked away. “Never mind.”
    “What?!” I insisted.
    To my surprise George blushed. “Christ, I hate to be the one to tell you. Your dad doesn’t even know.”
    “I’m old enough,” I said in a steady voice.
    “I suppose we all are old enough. Lizzie was three months pregnant when she wanted to run away. I told her the baby was her decision, but she wanted to keep it. She’s seven months now; the baby is due in March. If it’s a girl, she wants to name her Rachel.”
    “Rachel,” I murmured. “It’s almost like having a second chance.” Then, shaking my head as if to clear what I just heard, I shouted, “You’re lying!”
    “I’m sorry, Rachel,” George told me. “Did you two think she’d come back to New York?”
    “Yes,” I admitted miserably.
    George took my hand and for a moment I let him hold it. His palm was coarse and warm and leathery, almost like a baseball mitt, and he squeezed tight as one hot tear spilled out of my eye. “I know it hurts,” he told me. “But I love her, Rachel. Your mother’s a miracle. I never thought a miracle would happen to someone like me. You shouldn’t have come all the way to Madrid. Poor Rachel,” he said, leaning over to get me a tissue. “Poor James. Poor all of us, really.”

FIVE
    I didn’t cry on the way back to the hotel; I was way past crying. I had seen my mother and understood exactly what had happened. I never knew what the word ecstatic meant until I saw her face.
    After I left George I had gone over to a café directly across from their apartment building. Although the waiter was growing impatient with my one coffee order, I was determined to wait for my mother. I wasn’t too sure what I would do once I saw her. One plan was to rush out and stop her from entering her lover’s apartment, drop to my knees, and beg her to come home. Another scenario would be for me to publicly denounce her so that she would be the one to drop to her