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Page 42
Page 42
Not once during the entire afternoon was she able to get Sunshine to bring up Peter’s name, but Beth knew it was him. It seemed that even now after all these years the subject of this man she’d once loved was too painful to discuss. Beth didn’t know what role her mother had played in what had happened between her aunt and Peter Hamlin, but she suspected it was major. Something had caused the rift between them, a subject neither one seemed willing to discuss.
“What about the man you mentioned that night we had dinner?”
“What night?”
She ignored the question. “His name was Peter.”
Her aunt grew suspiciously quiet.
“Did my mother have anything to do with what happened between you two?” she asked.
Her aunt’s eyes grew sad. “Listen, Beth, some subjects are best left alone. This is one of them.”
In that moment, Beth was convinced that her mother did have something to do with whatever had happened with Peter. Now more than ever she was curious to find out what she could.
Beth had found several Peter Hamlins on the Internet, but deduced that the one living in Chicago was the man she sought. He was an attorney and worked in a prestigious law firm in the heart of the city. Of all the Peter Hamlins she’d found, this one matched up age-wise, as well. No guarantees, though. The only way to be certain was to contact him and ask. Facebook was no help, as his site was strictly professional.
Sam cautioned her when she told him what she’d discovered. “You could be stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
“Maybe, but I feel that at least I have to try.” Sunshine had done so much for her that if Beth had even a small chance of bringing her beautiful, loving aunt happiness it would be wrong to let it drop.
It took Beth several days to build up her resolve to make the phone call to his Chicago office. She had to do it on her lunch break. Not wanting other staff members to overhear the conversation, she sat in her car. Her finger shook as she punched out the number.
“Hamlin, Wilkens, and Bower,” the receptionist answered.
“I’d like to speak to Peter Hamlin,” Beth returned in her most professional voice.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.” She was afraid her voice might have trembled as she answered.
“Would you like one?” the receptionist returned.
“No, this is a personal matter. I’m calling from Oregon.”
“From Oregon,” she repeated, “and you say this is a personal matter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Hamlin is in court this afternoon.”
“Oh … I hadn’t considered that,” Beth said, thinking out loud.
“Would you like to leave me your number for Mr. Hamlin to return your call?”
Beth considered that and realized that wouldn’t work. “I’ll be in the classroom the rest of the day.”
“Can I tell him what this is in regard to?” the woman pressed.
Again an internal debate waged inside her. “No,” she decided quickly. “I’m not sure this is the same Peter Hamlin I need to speak with.”
The woman grew hesitant. “Perhaps I can help you. My name is Sondra Reacher and I’ve been with the firm for nearly forty years. Technically, I’m retired, but I can’t seem to stay away, so I come in two days a week.”
Beth was tempted, but she didn’t know enough about Peter Hamlin to ask the right questions. “This might sound silly, but does he enjoy fish tacos?”
The receptionist got another call and Beth was put on hold. She waited what seemed like a long time, but it was only a couple minutes before the woman returned.
“Where were we?” she asked.
“Fish tacos.”
“Yes, I remember now. I’ve known Peter from the time he joined the firm and his father before him, too, as well as the other partners. As I recall, Mr. Hamlin does like Mexican food. I can’t remember what he orders, though.”
“That’s encouraging. I think I might be on the right track.”
“Won’t you give me your name?”
Beth hesitated. “It would mean nothing to him.”
“Try back again, and in the meantime I’ll mention your call to Mr. Hamlin.”
“Thank you,” Beth said.
As soon as Beth disconnected she contacted Sam. His lunch break coincided with hers and they often spoke as they had when she was hospitalized. He answered on the first ring, as if he’d been anticipating her call.
“So how’d it go?” he asked right off.
“He wasn’t there, but the receptionist was as helpful as she could be. She urged me to call back.”
“Are you going to?” he asked.
“I suppose I will. I think this lawyer is the one.”
Sam didn’t approve of her plan, but thankfully he did nothing more than offer his advice. “Think carefully before you do,” he urged.
“I have been giving it a lot of thought. I want to do this for Sunshine. It might go nowhere, but the least I can do is make the effort.” The more she thought about it, she knew Sam might be right. She could be opening a can of wriggling worms and the ramifications might well bleed into her entire family. The hostility between Beth’s mother and Sunshine was as thick as lava, and adding to it was sure to cause even more problems. The two sisters were rarely in the same room together, and when they were, the tension was often unbearable. Beth loved her aunt, and more than anything she wanted do what she could to help Sunshine to find the happiness she deserved.
Beth tried again on Tuesday afternoon. A different receptionist answered and blew her off like she was a fly on her pizza plate. Wednesday it was the same thing. The most she could get out of the woman was the time for an appointment, the soonest of which was in December. The woman urged her to take it, as Mr. Hamlin was in high demand. Although she never expected to actually make the appointment, she booked it anyway.
On Friday Sondra Reacher, the older receptionist, was back on duty. “It’s me again,” Beth said, hoping the woman recognized her voice.
“Ah, yes, I remember you.”
Beth was relieved. “Please tell me Mr. Hamlin is in his office today and not in court.” She didn’t mention that she’d called four times that week already.
“He’s in,” the woman said.
“Can I speak to him?” Beth asked, her excitement growing.
“Let me put you on hold. I’ll check with him. You’d better give me your name this time.”
“It’s Beth. Beth Prudhomme.”
The woman repeated her name, asked for the spelling, and then lowered her voice to say, “I’ll do my best. No promises.”
“Thank you.”
Beth was put on hold and her heart raced the entire time she waited.
“This is Peter Hamlin.” His voice was sharp and impatient, as if she’d interrupted an important meeting. “I understand this is a personal matter?”
“Yes, yes, it is,” Beth said, her mouth going dry.
“In regards to what?” he demanded.
“I’m wondering if you’re the same Peter Hamlin who once knew my aunt. Her name is Louise, but her friends call her—”
“Sunshine,” Peter finished for her, his voice instantly softening.
“Yes. So it is you?” Happiness and relief bubbled up inside her. “I was making an educated guess and—”
“What does she want?” He returned to the clipped gruff voice he’d used earlier.
Then, before she could answer, he asked another question.
“Is she okay?” He made the questions sound like she was on the witness stand for the opposing side and any response was to be treated with suspicion.
“She’s in good health … now, if you’d give me a chance to explain.”
“Then she wants something.” The hostility made her stiffen.
“No, not at all. My aunt doesn’t want anything. She doesn’t even know that I’ve contacted you. I haven’t told her … she mentioned you and I could tell that you’d been important to her at one time and decided to try to find you.”