Taking a gamble, Kelly went with the direct approach. “So, you and Mr Edwards?”

“Me and Mr Edwards what?”

The innocent act didn’t fool Kelly.

Bristling, she held up a hand. “Don’t, Mum. I’m not a child.”

The air went out of her mother. “No, you’re not. Yes, me and Jack.”

“How long?” Kelly asked, feeling detached.

“Six, almost seven months.”

A snapshot of images flashed through Kelly’s mind. Mr Edwards popping in for a drink last Christmas. Mr Edwards mowing her mum’s lawns. Mr Edwards smiling for the first time in months. And further back, the perpetual dark cloud that had hung around him when he moved in five years ago.

Kelly had left home by then so on the odd occasion she’d seen him looking miserable, she’d just assumed he was a grumpy neighbour.

It wasn’t until much later her mother had revealed Mr Edwards was a widower.

“That long, and you’re only just telling me now?” As hard as she tried to keep the conversation light, Kelly’s question came out as an accusation.

“Oh, Kelly.” Her mum put her hands on the table, palm up.

With her mind in turmoil, Kelly placed her hands in her mothers. The gentle stroke of her thumbs comforted Kelly, the same as it had when she was a child.

“For the first few months, I struggled with being disloyal to your father. I prayed for his forgiveness, that he’d understand.”

“That had to be tough.”

“Yes, sweetie, it was—still is—but I’m getting there.”

“And that’s why you didn’t tell me, because of your own feelings of guilt?” Kelly asked, trying to process what she was hearing without coming across as judgemental.

“No.” With a sad smile, her mum shook her head. “Because I was terrified of what you’d think of me.”

“Me?” Kelly asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

All she’d ever wanted was for her mother to be happy. God knew, she’d grieved long enough. Why she was worried what Kelly thought was beyond her.

A wistful look glimmered in her mother’s eyes, her gaze focused on something Kelly couldn’t see. A memory?

“You were so fiercely loyal to your dad.” Her mother smiled warmly. “You followed him everywhere.”

“I did,” Kelly said, her chest tight.

She’d been his little shadow, and even though her parents would never admit to having favourites, Kelly was her father’s girl, and Jo her mothers. Sweet, sweet Jo, who loved to play dress-ups, go shopping, and help her mother bake. While Kelly preferred to be outside, pushing her toy mower alongside her dad, and tinkering in the garage any chance she got.

“Dad wouldn’t want you to be old and lonely, Mum.”