Chapter 5
Five
About five miles out of town, a stately two-story home sat nestled among manicured hedges and blooming hydrangeas, the front porch painted a pristine white that made Riley’s skin itch. Everything about it screamed carefully curated perfection—more like fake perfection, just like her mother.
It wasn’t that Riley didn’t love her mom, because she did. When Riley had chosen to live with her dad, she’d been heartbroken over the divorce. Over the harsh words between her and her mother. Over the expectation that Riley should accept her mom’s decision because her mother deserved to be happy.
And over the lie. The one that Riley’s mom so desperately needed her children to keep.
It all seemed so pointless. As if clinging to that part of her past had been for nothing.
Riley stood on the brick walkway, staring at the glossy black front door with its polished brass knocker, and reminded herself to breathe.
Slowly, she made her way up the steps. She’d never lived in this house. She’d spent a few weekends and holidays here, but it had never been home. Not like it had been to Grant and Erin. Not like the old ranch where she and her father had lived after the divorce—after the family home had been sold.
Deep down, she knew she had to take her share of the blame for broken relationships with her family. Grant was right. She’d been the one to take off for parts unknown. Initially, she’d been the one to sever ties. They’d had no idea what had happened. The loss. The heartbreak. That was on her.
She pushed aside the past and braced for emotional impact.
The second she pressed the doorbell, she heard voices hush inside.
Footsteps. A creak of wood.
Then the door swung open, revealing Erin—flawless in a beige wrap dress, blonde hair—obviously from a bottle since Erin was a natural brunette—swept into a loose twist. The transformation had begun when Chad entered the picture, and Erin gradually started lightening her hair until she looked nothing like the sister Riley remembered.
Their father had confided once how hard it was to watch Chad reshape Erin into the woman he thought she should be, beginning with the demand that brunettes weren’t sophisticated enough for his social circle.
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, not moving to let Riley in.
Riley smiled without showing any teeth. “Hi, Erin. Good to see you, too.”
Erin inched closer, her arms opening, and she pulled Riley in for a hug. The first one in God only knew how long. “It’s so hard to believe he’s gone.”
“I know.”
Riley leaned into the embrace, feeling every ounce of it. The moment wasn’t full of love. But it was something real. Something she could hold on to and maybe build on.
“We’re in the dining room.” Erin stepped back, gesturing toward the hallway. “I should warn you… Mom’s not handling your return well.”
Riley recoiled, jerking her head back to study her sister. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve tried calling. She hasn’t answered or called me back.”
“I don’t want to fight.” Erin raised her hands. “She’s just being Mom. Acting as if it were her husband who died.” Erin rolled her eyes. “But I suppose she’s thinking about Parker’s cancer. He’s in remission, but it still weighs on her.”
“I’m sure it does.”
“Also, please don’t start in on Chad.” Erin swiped at her cheeks. “Not today of all days. We can talk about all that another time. I’m open to a conversation if you’re going to be in town long enough to have it.” She leaned closer. “Without Chad around,” she whispered.
Riley’s lips parted, and she let out an audible gasp.
The memory of Chad’s unwelcome hands when she’d been a teenager came flooding back, along with the pain of Erin not believing her when Riley had tried to warn her.
Erin had called Riley a liar. Said she was just trying to sabotage her happiness.
But now, hearing the desperation in her sister’s voice, Riley wondered if Erin was finally ready to admit she’d been wrong about him.
“Okay,” was all she could manage.
“Come on.” Her sister looped her arm through Riley’s and tugged her toward the dining room.
The air inside smelled like lemon polish and cinnamon potpourri. Her mother sat at the head of the table, a glass of white wine in hand despite the early hour. Parker, her second husband, stood behind her chair, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder like he was there for show, not support.
“Riley.” Parker quickly made his way around the table and pulled her in for an awkward hug.” It’s good to see you again after all these years, although I do wish the circumstances were different. I’m so sorry about your father.” He kissed her cheek.
“Thank you. How are you feeling?”
“Still tired but doing much better.” Parker smiled weakly. “I enjoyed all the gift baskets and postcards. That was thoughtful.” He turned and went back to his position where her mom still hadn’t bothered to acknowledge her presence.
Grant and his wife, Kelly, sat on one side of the table, and Erin slipped into a chair on the other side. Chad, Erin’s husband, offered a polite smile but looked away immediately. Riley’s chest tightened. Seeing him again stirred old wounds she’d wished were healed.
“None of us were sure you’d make it,” Elizabeth said, setting down her glass.
She rose, smoothing down the front of her black dress.
She blew out a strong breath through her nose and approached Riley.
“I thought your calls and texts were telling me that you’d decided to stay in whatever country you’ve been living in these days.
” Her words were clipped, bitter, and they had a chilling bite to them.
“But I’m glad you managed to find time in your busy schedule to come.
Your father would be happy for that.” She brushed her bright red lips against Riley’s cheek before sitting back down.
Her mom could always hand out a good sideways compliment while scolding you in the same breath.
“I got in yesterday,” Riley replied. “I wanted to settle in before seeing everyone, though I’ve been in constant contact with Grant and Erin.”
Grant smiled at her. “You look good, little sis.” He reached out, took her hand, and squeezed.
“I told you that you could’ve stayed with us.
If you change your mind, that offer still stands.
” After all the tension, all the stilled conversations and carefully worded texts, this simple gesture felt like a lifeline.
Maybe her father’s death had reminded them both of what really mattered—that broken as they might be, they were family.
“Thanks. But for now, I’m good at the inn.”
“Is that where you’re really staying?” Her mother asked.
“Because I heard you were seen with Bryson Boone this morning.” She waved a judgmental finger toward the window.
“I saw the Stone Bridge Winery truck pull in the driveway. One can only assume you borrowed it from them, which means you’re staying there. ”
“They loaned it to me,” Riley said, her jaw clenched. “But I’m not staying there, not that it’s any of your business.”
“It is when you treat your bro—"
“Not the time for this.” Kelly interrupted her mother-in-law.
Turning back toward Riley, she added, “We’ve just been going over the final plans for Dad’s celebration.
We’ve postponed the ceremony to next week, but the date isn’t confirmed, yet.
However, the florist is taken care of, and the vineyard is letting us use the west lawn, free of charge. We’re grateful for that.”
Riley’s gaze flicked to Grant. “Bryson’s winery?” Of all the things that had been discussed this morning, she was a little surprised by this revelation. Maybe the Boones thought she knew.
Grant stiffened. “It’s what Dad wanted. He specified it in his will. Though I’m not sure how I feel about that considering he died there.”
“It’s a beautiful location,” Kelly offered. “We thought it would be nice to keep things simple and intimate. Just family and a few of your father’s closest friends.”
“I still think the country club would be better. I’m sure we can all agree that the outdoor gardens there are spectacular. The food is the best in town,” her mother said. “Grant, that won’t be a problem, financially, will it?”
Riley clenched her hands in her lap. Her father wasn’t even buried yet, and her mother was trying to rewrite his final wishes to suit her own vision of what was appropriate.
Her father had wanted to be remembered among the vines he’d cherished.
He wanted simplicity, intimacy, and her mother was trying to turn his memorial into a social event.
“Not the point, mother.” Grant’s eyes narrowed to slits, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “Dad had some pretty specific wishes. I intend to honor them. Not to mention, Walter and Dad have been close since grade school, and wasn’t Walter in your wedding?”
“I just thought, with how you and Bryson are, that it would be better to have it somewhere else.” Her mother lowered her chin and sniffled.
Always the actress.
“This isn’t about me. Or Byson. It’s about Dad and doing what he’d want.”
Her mother swept one hand through the air while lifting the other to dab at her cheek.
“I’d like to help,” Riley said. “He was my dad, too.”
A heavy silence fell. Grant and Erin stole glances before shifting their gazes to their mother, who stared into her wine glass before taking a long, slow sip. Chad coughed. Or maybe it was a grunt.
“There’s not much left to do,” her mother said with a dismissive wave. “The details are in place. Decisions already made—even if I’m not on board with them.”
“There are a few things that haven’t been secured yet. And we needed to stay on top of the details. There are many ways you can help,” Erin offered.