Interlaken, Switzerland

Arriving back at their hotel suite after a morning of skiing and an afternoon of spa treatments, Katherine took the opportunity that presented itself. Her father was out having a drink with an old college friend and she and her mother would be alone until it was time to meet again for dinner. There was never a perfect time to have the discussion they needed to, but the present was better than any that had come before.

Heading off to her room, she changed clothes, then returned to the living room, finding her mother at the wet bar preparing coffee rather than anything stronger. Exchanging a quick greeting, her mother asked whether she'd like a cup, to which she agreed.

Standing beside her, watching her work for a few seconds, she broached the subject, feeling nervous about what was to come next. "Mother?"

Turning, her mother gave her a look as if ask her to continue, which she did.

"Why did you leave your previous family?"

Dropping the spoon she was holding, the sound of metal against porcelain felt far louder than it likely was.

"Excuse me?"

"The Barnes family, why did you leave them behind?" Clarifying, she was sure there was nothing that actually needed clarifying, her mother was well aware of what she'd been doing in Dallas.

"You know."

"I know."

Leaning against the wooden counter, absorbing the information, the change in atmosphere wasn't immediately obvious, however, the moment her mother spoke again, she had an idea of how she felt.

"I hope JR Ewing enjoyed his Christmas, because he'll be hearing from me when we get back to Houston."

Shaking her head, she defended the way she'd come into possession of the information she held.

"JR barely told me anything, I figured out the main points on my own using the skills of an aspiring journalist, JR was supposed to fill in the gaps but when I went back to him for that information he said I'd be better speaking to you, so I am. I want to know why."

Listening, her mother appeared a little surprised that JR hadn't told her everything, however, that piece of information didn't seem to do much for her openness.

"Katherine, it was a long time ago."

"Yes, that's what Cliff said."

"You met Cliff?"

Showing some emotion, her response led her to believe that perhaps they were getting somewhere.

Nodding, she elaborated on her encounter with her brother. "He had nothing good to say about you, but I'm not sure I can blame him."

Personally, she didn't see how it was possible for a mother to abandon her children the way Cliff had described it, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe there wasn't an explanation, which was why she was asking for one.

"You don't understand."

"No, I don't, but I want to, so please, tell me."

"I…"

Trailing off, her mother offered no answers, at a loss for words to explain why she'd done what she'd done.

"Fine, answer me this, how much does daddy know?"

Certain that she knew the answer to her own question, she asked anyway, keen to find something to get a conversation going.

"Nothing, and you can't tell him either, please, I've worked so very hard to get where I am and I don't want to lose everything."

Confirming Herbert was in the dark about her past life, her voice cracked as she spoke, indicating she truly did care about what her husband thought; the question was, was that because she loved him or because she didn't want to be the one on the receiving end of abandonment this time?

"Daddy loves you and he's a more loyal husband than you apparently were wife, I don't think he would leave after finding out about this."

"You can't be sure of that."

Considering her father's temperament, she didn't think he would leave, however, her mother was right, she couldn't be certain that that was how things would work out.

"No, but I think he deserves to make that decision on his own and if you want him on your side you'd be better telling him yourself than letting him discover it the way I did."

Listening, her mother was silent for a few moments before answering, avoiding the main subject for the secondary one. "How did you find out?"

"I'll tell you, once you tell me the whole story."

"Katherine."

Not heeding her warning, she pushed further. "There's no need to hide it any longer, the secret it out."

Stepping forward, she took the spoon from the cup and waved her hand towards the couch. "Why don't you sit down? I'll make the coffee."

Nodding, her mother took her suggestion, making a comment as she sat down. "I'm not sure a coffee can get me through this."

"I'll see what I can do." Opening the cabinet, she searched through the various liqueurs before settling on one that sounded as if it might pair nicely with coffee.

Working silently, a few moments passed before her mother spoke.

"Do you know about Digger?"

Turning around, she looked at her, nodding, "Willard."

Smiling, her mother corrected her, "everyone called him Digger…"

Whispering, she mirrored her mother's words, "Digger."

"He was nothing like your father, but in Braddock in the '40s most men were nothing like your father, there were a few, but not many…"

Starting her story, she just as quickly stopped, taking a few seconds to collect her thoughts before continuing.

"Digger was… lively… I liked that…" murmuring, she sounded lost in memories.

Hearing the way her mother was speaking, Katherine worried that she was about to hear a love story, not something else, but knowing how it ended she knew to keep listening.

"We met around the start of summer…"

Sliding her hand off her abdomen to accept the cup she handed her, it was only when she finished her sentence that the strange hand placement made sense.

"…and it was fall when I realised what had happened, by that point there was nothing to do but make things official. I was lucky, Digger took me in."

Understanding what her mother was telling her, that she and Digger had married because it was the decent thing to do when a couple were unexpectedly expecting, she didn't particularly think the wording her mother used was all that decent.

"Took you in? You weren't a stray cat."

Personally, she had high standards, and she'd always thought her mother did too; the least a man could do was take care of his family, her father had never acted as if such actions were a favour to them, however, perhaps times truly had been different.

"No, but I was close to it. You never knew my parents, your maternal grandparents. I would have been alone very early had it not been for Digger."

Reiterating that she believed Digger had behaved chivalrously rather than as one would expect him to, the subject was one they would just have to agree to disagree on.

"So, why did you leave?"

"I'm getting there," snapping at her, she took a drink.

"Digger was thrilled when Tyler was born and for a while things seemed perfect. There's something about men and sons."

Sounding wistful, her tone wasn't the only thing that came as a surprise.

"Tyler?"

"Our first son."

Confirming what she had gathered, the news was still a surprise. She'd known about Cliff and Pamela, but no third, or first, child named Tyler.

"It wasn't unexpected, but you never really think it will happen to you. Tyler was six months old."

Skipping ahead a little in time, there was no need to say it explicitly.

"I'm sorry."

Feeling for her mother, she still had a number of questions, but it didn't feel appropriate to ask them directly.

"Looking back, I know things had to have been bad before that, but at the time I don't think I identified it at all."

Speaking again, her mother gave her some insight into her past life, however, she didn't really understand what she was saying.

"We weren't in a position to start over, but that's what was lined up for us. Eight months to the day after we lost Tyler, Cliff was born."

Genuinely surprised that Cliff had arrived so quickly, she studied her mother's face to try to understand how she felt about that.

"Were you happy?"

"I was terrified… happy, but terrified."

Sympathising, imagining that there would be a level of fear that came with the birth of a new baby so soon after the loss of a previous one, she wondered then what else her mother had been referring to.

"Digger?"

Laughing, her tone very odd, there was a definite story behind her answer. "So delighted he didn't come home for three days."

Falling into a silence, the next time she spoke she seemed to have skipped ahead a few months again.

"I don't know what I would have done without Digger's sister, Maggie, although I could have done without her pointing out that the fall was coming up, and I'd started a tradition a couple of years earlier."

Thinking about it, she gathered her mother was alluding to discovering she was expecting again.

"Pamela?"

"Not yet…"

Shocked that there was more than one extra sibling she'd not known about, she asked, "how many?"

"Including you, five."

Taking a sharp breath at hearing it put that way, she let the information sit for a while, speechless.

"I became certain that thanksgiving, I couldn't bring myself to eat the turkey, there was no way. Digger took it personally…"

Feeling her stomach lurch, she knew from the tone her mother was using that something bad had happened.

"Why?"

"He carved it."

Expecting something more than what had been described, she asked for a further explanation.

"What happened?"

"I'd rather not…"

Trusting the knot in her stomach was telling her something, she nodded, "of course."

"Cliff was just going on seven months. He was everything to me, and the next year I would have two."

Bringing the discussion back a step, she then skipped forward an equal amount, landing on a likely but not obviously related topic.

"Children are expensive. You don't quite realise just how expensive until you don't have enough to provide for them."

"You didn't?"

Smiling weakly, she explained, "Digger worked, and he spent; I did what I could, but I had nothing; and Maggie helped, but she was only slightly more able than I was."

Wanting to understand, she couldn't say she entirely did.

"You were a secretary."

"Not until after I left Corpus Christi."

"Corpus Christi?"

Thinking about her own research, she couldn't say she'd thought to look for records around Corpus Christi, she hadn't known she should.

"That's where we later moved. We went where Digger could earn a living."

"What did Digger do?"

"He was an oilman. That's how he and Jock Ewing knew each other. They met on the way to South Central Texas in the wildcatting days."

Detailing more about her past, the information came as a surprise again. She'd only seen a few vague titbits connecting the Barnes and the Ewing families and most of them had been to do with the marriage of Pamela and Bobby rather than anything to do with Digger and Jock.

"JR Ewing doesn't strike me as the sort of man who had a deprived childhood."

Without knowing the full history she couldn't really make a judgement, however, it only seemed logical to her that if Jock and Digger had done essentially the same things for work, Digger ought to have been able to provide for his family as Jock obviously had for his.

"Jock Ewing and Digger Barnes were very different men. Jock Ewing did Digger no favours."

Listening, she gathered that whatever animosity she felt towards Digger for how he'd treated her, on this subject she truly believed he was the victim and needed defending.

"There's a story there."

"Not one for today."

Refusing to elaborate, their conversation lulled again.

Thinking back, she returned to an earlier topic. "So, the next thanksgiving, you had two children?"

Laughing in the same odd tone she'd used earlier, her mother answered the question, "two children and no husband."

"Did Digger disappear often?"

Shrugging, she answered, "I wasn't counting, but there were times when we didn't see him for days, at worst, weeks."

Her opinion of Digger sinking quickly, she murmured mostly to herself, "it sounds like it might have been a nice break."

"It might've, had I had everything I did while you were growing up. In reality, it was trying."

Digger didn't sound like good husband material at all and she could only imagine that at some point it might have been easier to go it alone than be constantly thinking about where he was, what he was doing, and what he'd do when he returned, apparently however, her mother didn't agree.

"You stayed with him, despite that behaviour."

"I had no choice."

Not believing it was that simple, having always known her mother to be an assertive, strongminded lady when she needed to be, she couldn't accept that the only option she'd had was to stay with her volatile husband.

"You continued to tie yourself to a bad situation."

Raising her voice, she was quite firm in her answer, "I'm telling you, I had no choice."

Shocked by the strength of her answer, she felt that perhaps she ought to believe her. Perhaps it was true that the choice was non-existent, that staying was a bad path to be on, but leaving would have been an even worse one.

Silenced, she was cautious when she spoke again, returning to what she thought was a safe topic.

"Your third baby, that wasn't Pamela?"

She knew the baby hadn't been Pamela, she'd already been told that, but she had no other information to form an understanding of what had happened.

"No, we had a daughter…"

Taking another sharp breath, the news sat differently with her than it had previously; she knew what was coming next, she knew to expect the worst.

"We'd almost made it, eleven months and counting, everything had seemed ok, then it wasn't."

"I…" taken aback by just how sad she felt, she was speechless again.

"I was heartbroken, Digger was too, and he was angry, angry at the world, at me, at everything. It wasn't fair."

Feeling pretty angry herself at the idea that her mother's first husband had been so awful to her, she had more thoughts than words.

"No, it doesn't seem it."

"I couldn't dwell. I had Cliff to take care of."

"I'm sorry; I didn't know that there was so much to it."

Smiling weakly, her mother asked, "do you still want to hear the rest?"

No matter her own feelings on the story, she still wished to understand what had happened in the past, so she didn't hesitate to answer, "yes."

"Things went from bad to worse over the next year. We were like strangers, but we were tied to each other. Digger made choices and I followed them, but mostly I kept to myself and raised Cliff as best I could."

Listening, she wondered where things were heading but didn't ask, instead letting her mother take her time to think and speak freely.

"It was September, I remember that clearly, the lady next door was a schoolteacher and had less time to have Cliff over to read stories. However, on a day she did have us over she'd made a pecan pie and that's when I knew. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I certainly was."

Knowing what food aversions meant now, she didn't need it told to her, however, she did have a few questions.

"I thought you were like strangers?"

Laughing nervously, her mother shook her head, "you probably have to live it to understand."

"I don't…" wanting to say she didn't have any experience with that and didn't want to either, she stopped herself midway through, feeling it probably insensitive to say such a thing seeing as her mother had actually lived it.

Appearing to understand what she'd meant from the couple of words she'd said, her mother agreed with her point, serious in tone, "I hope you never do."

With their conversation lulling, she felt sad; her mother didn't always do things in a way she appreciated, but she understood now that she did truly care and did want the best for her.

"It wasn't all bad, but it wasn't good either. The fear that bad things would continue to come to our family was always present. Cliff was healthy, but I was terrified that I'd lose him, and feeling a new life grow, knowing that nothing was guaranteed, was just horrendous."

Feeling the anxiety knotting her stomach, she had an idea of what the years of marriage must have felt like.

"But Pamela was healthy?"

"She was, and we were delighted."

Pausing, she smiled to herself, seemingly lost in memories. As she'd said, it hadn't all been bad.

"Maggie came to stay more often that year, things began to look up and Digger seemed more stable."

Describing a happier home life, the question remained.

"But you left?"

Looking away, towards the window, she spoke again. "At some point I went from knowing I couldn't leave to knowing I couldn't stay. I couldn't continue to have and lose children and I couldn't continue to lose the remaining pieces of who I was. My children deserved better…"

Recounting her memories, she sounded like she was on the verge of tears, it wasn't entirely clear why though.

"What changed?"

"Pamela was a year and a half old…"

Vague, she didn't answer the question.

"Maggie was so capable; they were in good hands..."

Her voice shaking, she persisted with her story, adding details that were interesting, but their relevance unclear.

"Mother?" concerned, she touched her hand, trying to bring her attention back to the present.

Turning her head, they made eye contact for a brief moment before the tears began, starting silently but soon turning into sobs.

She'd asked for the truth and she'd finally heard it, now she was witnessing how much of an affect it had had on her mother.

To be continued…