Chapter 13
Mary-Ann stood just inside the doorway of the opulent office and stared at him. She had been alerted as soon as his car entered the driveway. Despite her husband's warning to leave him alone, she was here.
The sunlight streaming through the wide pane of glass, picked up the diamonds etched in the gold of his wedding ring. His head was bent and he was leafing through a complicated looking contract as he chewed someone out on the phone.
"I don't give a flying damn what they're saying at customs. The order for those particular bathtubs were placed more than a month ago and still nothing to show for it.
" He listened for a moment, using his free hand to make rapid jottings.
"Get it done or by God, I'm going to put someone else on the job. Am I clear? Good!"
Slamming down the receiver, he lifted his head and connected with her gaze.
"Mother, this is not a good time."
"It's as good a time as any." Ignoring his fierce scowl, she stepped inside and closed the doors behind her.
"How about a spot of tea?" She asked, walking to the cabinet.
"Tea is not the fix all for everything and I'm busy."
"There's no excuse whatsoever for being rude and tea is my go to solution." Ignoring his snort, she poured two cups and brought one over to him. Taking hers, she picked up the wedding photo in a prominent position on his desk.
There were scatterings of photos of her and his dad, his brothers, a group photo with all four of her boys that had been taken in Vale one Christmas and of course his sisters in law and nieces and nephews. But his wedding photo was larger than all the others and placed in an ornate frame.
It was a lovely picture, one that captured them staring into each other's eyes.
"How's she?"
"In fine form. I really don't want to talk about my wife."
"She's going through a lot." Mary-Ann put the frame down.
"The reason why I left the house before I commit murder."
He watched as his mother walked over to perch on one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. She balanced the cup and saucer on her knee as she met his gaze.
"I was sick as a dog when I had your brothers.
Plagued with morning and afternoon sickness, cross as two bears and blaming your father for everything.
As soon as I had the baby, I would swear never to go through that horror again.
But one look at those faces and I would change my mind.
" She sipped slowly. "You were the worst of them. "
She shook her elegantly coiffed head. "It might be because you were the last, the final hoorah. I was sick for the entire nine months and your father felt the brunt of it. Not only was I very miserable and fat, but I felt like a complete failure."
"We had help of course, but I wanted to be involved in my boys' lives. Most days I could not get out of bed, and I would insist on them being brought to the room. That would last for about ten minutes. The noise, the screams, because they were very loud, would get on my nerves."
"I would evict them and then feel guilty about it.
" She drew in a breath. "Carrying a child inside you is not a walk in the park.
It changes you and not in very pleasant ways.
Your wife is carrying three babies, which triples the misery.
" She met his gaze frankly. "You're going to have to try and understand. "
Pushing the cup of tea away, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes wearily.
"I know. It's just so difficult to try and figure out what to do for her. I know the root of it is that she's terrified, but so am I."
"Then you both need to find a way of communicating."
He gave her a curious glance. "Did that work for you and dad?"
"No." She smiled serenely. "I threatened to kill him several times. And I evicted him from our bedroom, more times than I can count."
"Did he leave?"
Her smile widened as she continued to sip her tea.
"What do you think?"
A smile ghosted his lips. "I think he stayed."
"He did. Stubborn goat. Darling, you're in love with your wife, you positively adore her. The babies came first and soon after the wedding. It's a lot to take in."
"I know. I..."
A frown touched his brow when his phone started to vibrate. "Excuse me, I told Ms. Bailey to call if something was wrong."
Snatching up the phone, he answered.
"My wife..." He listened for a moment, his frown deepening. "What? Who?"
"No, you did the right thing. Let her sleep and entertain the visitor until I get there." He hung up and stared at his mother.
"What is it darling?"
"Violet Wilcox is at the house."
"Who's... oh, that woman. What on earth is she doing there?"
"Ms. Bailey said she's insisting on talking to my wife." He shoved back from the desk. "I told her to keep her occupied until I get there."
"Want me to come along?" There was a fierce battle light in her eyes as she rose.
A smile tugged at his lips. "I think I can handle this on my own. But I'll call you if I need any help."
She accompanied him to the door. "Don't let her upset Leanne. She's in a delicate stage right now and doesn't need to be stressed. And please call me as soon as you can. I would like to know why she's suddenly turned up."
"I aim to find out." He promised grimly. Turning, he wrapped his arms around her. "I love you,"
Tears glinted in her eyes. "The feeling is completely mutual. Go on darling."
She watched him walk away, determined to find out what's going on.
*****
The housekeeper was watching her like a hawk. After bringing her the tea service along with the most delicious sandwiches and sugar cakes she had ever tasted, she was standing guard by the hearth, hands folded in front of her, a suspicious gleam in her light blue eyes.
"This is very good." Violet took a sip of the strong yet sweet tea in approval.
"Thank you." The response was stilted, leaving little doubt the woman was not prepared to be friendly.
Searching desperately for something else to say, she tilted her head to stare at the life size photo of the couple.
She had seen it before, but not this big and felt her heart clenching at the look of obvious adoration on her daughter's husband's face.
He was standing behind her and they were both barefooted.
He was head and shoulders over her. His hands were wrapped possessively around her swollen waist. Her head was turned and she was smiling up at him. He on the other hand had a look of undiluted love and passion that was unmistakable.
"They look happy." She murmured reluctantly.
"They are." The housekeeper said proudly. "They invited me to the wedding. It was a very big splash indeed. Your daughter is beautiful inside and out. I'm proud to be working for her."
Violet put the cup down, her hands trembling. The room was large, antique furnishings scattered around the space. The walls were silken wall papers, with very expensive tapestries and paintings she didn't recognize.
The carpet underfoot was lush and of a delicate powder blue.
"You said she's sleeping."
"She had a difficult night and she's taking a nap."
"I would..."
"Ms. Bailey, thank you. I'll take over here." Both women jumped slightly at the sound of the male voice just inside the doorway. Christos had approached from the back in order to have the element of surprise.
"Of course, Mr. Christos." The housekeeper abandoned her vigil by the fireplace.
"My wife?"
"She's still sleeping sir. She drank all of the soup and ate two slices of bread."
"Thank you."
He waited until the housekeeper had left before walking into the room.
"Have a seat Mrs. Wilcox." He gestured to the chair behind her and waited until she was seated before taking the comfortable rocker his wife preferred when she was in the living room.
"I didn't know you were here."
"I wasn't. Mrs. Bailey called to alert me of your impromptu visit." His green eyes were inscrutable. "What is this about?"
Violet's hands fluttered restlessly as she picked up the cup but did not take a sip. "I want to see my daughter."
"That's what you told my housekeeper. Why now? We sent you an invitation to the wedding and a verbal follow up which was decisively turned down. What do you want with her now?"
Violet bristled at the tone. "I've been doing some praying and thinking and decided that it's time to make amends."
One thick brow lifted. "And during this praying and thinking, you had an epiphany. How delightful. You spent years treating my wife like garbage, hurting her at every turn and now suddenly you want to be a mother to her?" He smiled cynically. "Let me guess. You need money."
"How much is it going to take? A hundred thousand? Two? A million." He inched forward, his hands clasped loosely between his thighs. "I think you're smart enough to realize that there's nothing I won't do for my wife. How much?"
"How dare you."
"No ma'am. How dare you." His eyes glinted dangerously. "My wife is in a vulnerable state right now. She's carrying triplets and I would go to the ends of the earth to make sure she's not harassed or stressed. That includes paying you off. So, once again, how much is it going to take?"
"I don't..."
She broke off abruptly when he shot to his feet, eyes riveted on the doorway. Turning her head, she saw her daughter framed there, one hand on her huge belly.
"Christos?"
He was by her side in an instant, expression immediately concerned.
"Baby, what are you doing up?" His voice was so different from the one he had used before, that it left Violet speechless.
"I woke up feeling much better. I ate..."
Suddenly she looked to her left as the figure rose from the chair. "Mother?" A frown touched her brow. "What... What are you doing here?"
"Come and have a seat darling." Taking her hand, he led her to the chair and sat perched on the arm. "Your mother was just getting to her reason for this unexpected visit."
They both faced her. He had linked their fingers together, unconsciously presenting a united front.