Page 59 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"We were so happy. When you've wanted something for so long and think you'll never have it, and then someone tells you fate has changed her mind, and you're getting it after all...well, I don't know if I can explain how that feels. Anyway, when Elena went into labor, we were ready. The nursery was done. We couldn't wait to bring you home."
I placed my hand on his and nodded.
"At first, everything proceeded as expected. The birth itself was rough, but the doctor said it was normal. But then she started to bleed. They pressed on her stomach and gave her medicine, but they couldn't stop it. She died. But you knew that, didn't you?" The scotch was gone. He stood and poured himself another.
I held my tongue. So far, he hadn't shared anything I hadn't figured out on my own. But I could feel it coming. There was something else. Something big.
"I never told you this before, Grateful, and I'm so sorry to admit it. I couldn't even look at you when you were born. I didn't hold you. I didn't name you." My father's voice came out shaky, and his eyes welled with tears. "I left. I abandoned you in that hospital the moment I found out she was dead."
It took me a while to process what he was saying. "Do you mean you left me at the hospital with no intention of coming back...ever?"
"Exactly. I never even asked about you for two full weeks. I just ran."
Holy shit. I felt like someone had slugged me in the stomach.
"Finally, I came to my senses. I returned to the hospital and found the nurse who'd delivered you. I begged her to tell me where you were. I figured you'd be in foster care somewhere with the state. The nurse pulled me aside and explained she'd taken pity on me. She'd forged my name on a few documents to make it look like I was a normal, caring father, and she'd taken you home herself. Then she returned you to me. She..."
Fuck. My dad was losing it, crying openly into his glass. I'd never seen my father cry. I circumnavigated the counter and snaked my arm around his neck.
"That's why I named you Grateful. There was no one more grateful than I was to have you and for the nurse who saved our family."
Eyes wide, I wondered how different things must have been back then for a nurse to take a chance like that. She could've gone to prison and lost her license. The story was almost unbelievable but then so was the sight of my father sobbing in my arms. "So that's why you sent the nurse a card every year on my birthday."
"You remember that?"
I nodded. "Who was the nurse, Dad? Can I meet her?"
"No. I'm sorry. I'd intended to introduce you someday, but she passed away so suddenly." He slid the scrapbook in front of him and started flipping through the pages. "I guess this was her way of remembering you. She didn't have any children of her own."
The room began to spin. "What?"
"The nurse who kept you in my absence was Prudence Meriwether. You're living in her house."
I plopped down on the stool next to Dad, snatched his scotch, and tossed it to the back of my throat. I coughed at the harsh burn of the liquor.
"Prudence and I always had a close relationship after what happened with you. She didn't have any other family, so she left the house to me. She would've been so happy to know you were using it. God, I wish I'd had the guts to introduce you while she was still alive. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew if I did, I'd have to explain, and it kills me to admit the truth. It kills me." His shoulders bobbed with the rhythm of his sobbing.
Now, I considered blabbing to my dad that Prudence had never left this house. I really did. I opened my mouth several times to broach the subject. But I didn't. I told myself it was because he'd never believe me, but it was bigger than that. I didn't tell because my ghosts were my secret. As crazy as it sounds, some deep-set instinct kept me from sharing Prudence's ghostly presence.
Instead, I patted him on the back. "Dad, I can't say I'm not totally floored right now. But I'm a nurse, okay? I see what the death of a loved one does to people. I can't really say I understand, not personally, because I've never been through it. I guess what I'm trying to say is... the important thing is... You came back for me. I mean, you were a good dad to me when it counted. I don't even remember those first weeks."
He buried his face in his hands. I noticed his glass was empty again.
"I forgive you, Dad. Okay? I forgive you."
The hug he gave me made me cry. It was so desperate. My chest hurt to think he'd been carrying this secret and the resulting guilt around for so many years.
"You're a good kid, Grateful. A really good kid." Dad pulled himself together, smoothing his suit coat down and wiping under his eyes. "I should go." Standing, his realtor self snapped back on his frame like a Lego part. He ran a hand through his hair and gave me one last hug.
His hand was on the doorknob when I remembered there was more I needed to ask him. "Hey, do you know if more keys came with this place? I can't get the attic door open."
His mouth tightened, and his eyebrows knitted together. "I know for certain there are no other keys. I'm careful about labeling everything. Who knows where Prudence kept it? Go ahead and call a locksmith if you want. I'll pay for it. Going to need it if I sell the place someday anyway."
"Okay."
He left, looking as fresh as when he'd come, like he'd never had a major heart-to-heart with his only daughter. That was my dad.
I watched him pull out of my drive, thinking about what Logan had said. After he'd told Prudence I was Robert Knight's daughter, the baby she'd cared for twenty-two years ago, he'd said she remembered me. The ghost in my attic knew me. She'd helped deliver me.
