Page 74 of Christmas at the Ranch
“Does Drew know about this?” She looked up at Samantha.
Samantha shook her head. “No one has seen it. I came here as soon as I figured it out.”
“How did you know it was mine?”
“It all fell into place. This afternoon you mentioned that New Yorkers are passionate about their pizza. In the diary, you wrote that Lombardi’s pizza is Arthur’s favorite food,” Samantha began. “There were other things. When I showed you the photos of Socks on my phone, you stared at the photo of Drew for so long. There was something different in your expression. Then, I remembered you left Jackson Hole when you were young. When you returned, you changed your name.’”
Samantha stopped to take a breath.
“I see why you’re a good writer,” Marigold said quietly. “You don’t forget any details.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” Samantha’s voice was plaintive. “You loved Drew, you even said you still loved Arthur. How could you leave? You never tried to contact Drew. He grew up believing you didn’t love him.”
Marigold walked around the counter. She motioned for Samantha to sit on a stool.
“All right, I’ll tell you.” Marigold sat beside her. “I loved Drew more than anything. But I was a terrible mother. I refused to get a nanny, but I became too afraid to take Drew anywhere. I don’t know why; it happened gradually. I was afraid to go to the playground in case he got hurt, or to the park in case he got abducted by a stranger. I wanted to see a therapist but Arthur wouldn’t hear of it.” Marigold twisted her hands. “He believed that would make him a failure too.
“It grew worse in our last year of marriage. We moved into the apartment on the Upper East Side and I was so lonely. I missed ourold doorman, Ellery, and Drew missed his friends in the neighborhood. The people in the new building were very standoffish. When I told them I was from Wyoming, the women slipped their Chanel sunglasses over their perfectly upturned noses and ignored me. The building had a doorman but we weren’t really friends. I was too afraid what the other residents would say if I talked to him. Drew didn’t have any friends nearby and we couldn’t even get a dog. How could we take a dog for walks when we lived on the thirty-sixth floor?
“I tried to talk to Arthur, but he was always at work. Sometimes he was gone all week at conferences. When he was in New York, he never seemed to leave the office.” Marigold sighed. “I missed Wyoming so much. I missed the sky and the mountains and the air.
“It was the Christmas after we moved to the Upper East Side, Drew was four years old. I took him to Macy’s to meet Santa Claus. Christmas was my favorite season; I was determined Drew wouldn’t miss out. The line to see Santa Claus stretched on forever. It was so hot in the store. We’d been standing there for ages, when I started to feel faint.
“I looked for someone to watch Drew, but the other mothers were preoccupied. Before I knew what I was doing, I ducked out of the store. I was only going to stand outside long enough to get some air. But it had started snowing. The snowflakes felt so good against my skin, I was gone longer than I planned.
“When I returned, Drew was missing. I ran up and down the aisles, calling his name,” she fretted. “Finally, security escorted me to the office. They brought Drew in a while later. He’d gotten on the escalator to find me. They discovered him crying behind a rack of coats.”
Samantha wanted to say how terrible that must have been. But Marigold kept talking.
“The security guard drove us to our apartment; Arthur was waiting. He wouldn’t listen to my apologies. He hired a nanny; I was hardly allowed near Drew. I wanted to take Drew to Jackson Hole, or to Palm Beach to stay with Arthur’s parents. Arthur refused.” She shrugged. “He thought I’d run away with Drew and not return.
“For months, I carried on. I taught myself to cook, I even took up painting. But the only talent I ever had was for horseback riding,” she finished. “I barely saw Drew except for dinnertime and before he went to bed. One day, I packed a bag and flew to Jackson Hole. I imagined I’d be gone a few weeks. The longer I was here, the more I realized I could finally breathe.”
“Why didn’t you tell Arthur you were in Jackson Hole?” Samantha cut in.
“Arthur was so angry, I needed to find myself first,” Marigold said doubtfully. “Then I couldn’t leave. I even booked a ticket, but I came down with the flu and was in bed for a week. Finally, I wrote to Arthur. I begged him to send Drew. He didn’t answer. His attorney sent a letter saying Arthur had started divorce proceedings. After that, I wrote to Drew every month. I never got a reply. Eventually I gave up.”
“Drew wrote you letters when he was older,” Samantha interrupted. “He didn’t know where to send them.”
“I had no idea that Arthur recently bought the ranch.” Marigold looked at Samantha. “You mustn’t tell Drew that I’m here. It would only hurt him.”
“You’re his mother,” Samantha urged. “And it was so long ago.”
Marigold’s confidence seemed to return. She smoothed her slacks.
“I’ve spent the last twenty years learning from Native Americans. Some of my most valued friends are part of their communities.They believe the world has a certain balance. When someone loses something important, other things move in to take its place. Drew has many wonderful things in his life: work that he enjoys, his relationship with Arthur, and now he’s found love. There’s no room for me.”
“What about Arthur?” Samantha asked. “He might forgive you.”
Marigold gazed out the window. Snow fell on the pavement, and a light mist shrouded the village.
“Arthur wasn’t that kind of man.” Marigold shook her head. “I can’t blame him. What I did was unforgivable.”
Chapter Seventeen
Samantha turned into the ranch’s driveway and switched off the engine. She had driven straight from the gift shop, but she wasn’t ready to go inside. There was so much to think about.
The main house looked beautiful in the moonlight. The outdoor Christmas lights flickered and she could see the glow of the fireplace in the living room. Drew and Arthur were probably sitting with the other guests, drinking buttered rum and talking about tomorrow’s ski conditions.
