Chapter 8
She waited to call an Uber. For the first time since the accident, her serenity was shaken and she found that she could really hate someone.
Isobel Collier was the coldest and most hateful person she had ever had the misfortune to encounter.
And this was the woman who was going to be her mother-in-law.
It gave her pause and made her wonder if this was such a good idea after all.
Yes, she mused. She was in love with Dean and any woman who refused to acknowledge the fact that they were not just marrying the man but was in fact marrying the family as well was delusional.
No matter that Dean did not regard them in the slightest, they were still his family.
Standing beneath the shade of a blossoming oleander bush, she saw that Dean had left two messages already, and if she did not call him, he was going to assume the worst.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button and assumed a neutral tone, hoping he was fooled by it.
"I feel like I'm being stalked."
"Are you all right?" The anxiety in his tone had her heart settling.
"Why wouldn't I be? You were afraid that your mother and sister chewed me up and spit me out?"
"Mostly my mother. How was it?"
"Pleasant enough." She looked over at the elegant building and saw to her surprise that his sister was hurrying towards her. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure I can swing by..."
"And hold my hand? No." She shook her head, belatedly realizing he could not see her. "We discussed the menu and came to some agreement. By the way, I'm paying for my dress."
"I can..."
"I need to do this and I have to go. I'm running late."
"I'll see you later."
"Yes. Goodbye."
"Catherine?"
"Yes?"
There was a pause and she waited.
"Nothing. Don't prepare anything, I'll bring some food. How does Italian sound?"
"Wonderful. See you later."
She hung up just as Irene came over.
"I can drop you where you need to go." She was a little breathless from her hurried pace.
"That's not necessary. I was about to call..." She stopped when the woman placed a hand on her arm.
"Please. I need to talk to you."
Catherine hesitated briefly before nodding.
With a sigh of relief, Irene lifted a hand that had the valet running towards them.
"Please bring my car around."
"My mother is not pleased by your decisions about the wedding." Irene began.
"That's her problem." Catherine lifted her chin. "Are you here to champion her cause?"
"Absolutely not." Irene paused as the car stopped and the valet alighted and handed her the fob.
"Please." Irene gestured to the passenger side of the gleaming BMW.
Waiting until Catherine secured her seatbelt, she turned out of the lot. She had made her escape when her mother was cornered by Sylvia, the owner of the restaurant.
"I got married the first time when I was in my early twenties.
" Irene began as she negotiated the flow of traffic.
"He was young and bright and had a very good future at the company.
He was willing and eager to be molded by my father.
My parents approved of him." She touched the left indicator.
"He was also from an excellent family. He was on his way up, of course.
They paid for the wedding, very lavish, hundreds of friends and acquaintances. Lavishly expensive."
"We honeymooned in Paris for two weeks and came back to live at the manor.
That was the condition. I knew we would not last long there, but William, which was his name, would not hear of us getting a place of our own.
" She slid a glance at the silent woman.
"It took less than three weeks for my father to corrupt him.
He started cheating on me and made it plain that I had to accept it as a way of life.
I put up with it for two years before I demanded a divorce.
It was granted and I waited three years before I decided to choose my own partner. "
"He was an actor and I thought being a rebel would be a punishment to my parents.
His name was Harry and he started abusing me.
He did drugs and brought women to our place.
He was fickle and shallow and had married me with the hopes of using my family to get ahead in his career.
When my parents refused to bankroll his film, he left me. "
She turned into the parking lot of the school and switched the engine off, her face taut with memories of the past.
"The third husband was chosen by my father, and he turned out to be even worse than the other two.
" She shrugged and turned around to look at Catherine.
"We grew up, Dean and I, we both grew up in a household that was not conducive to happiness.
He chose to flagrantly embrace the lifestyle of our parents, and I, well, I chose the opposite.
I thought I could make a difference by getting married and trying to live a respectable life. "
"But instead you chose men just like your father," Catherine declared quietly, seeing the picture of the childhood they had had.
Two children growing up without love and under the influence of parents who did not give a damn about what their actions would do to the children they had created. It made her sick to her stomach.
Irene nodded, her expression haunted. "I craved his approval in so many ways.
Growing up, I thought I was his princess.
I entertained the idea that I looked like him, so he favored me.
" She smiled grimly. "Dean got the looks from our mother, and he thought she was an angel.
She could do nothing wrong. I warned him that our lives were not perfect and that one day he would come to realize it. "
"He did. When he was ten years old, and it shattered him.
" She turned to face Catherine, expression earnest. "I've seen the way he looks at you.
The fact that he touches you is a miracle.
We were taught not to show emotions, not to touch in public.
He cares about you deeply and is fiercely protective.
" She hesitated briefly. "We don't know how to love, and I can see that you're in love with him.
All I'm asking is that you're patient with him.
He'll hurt you along the way, but you're the only woman he has ever felt even a modicum of emotion for, and that's saying a lot. "
Catherine inclined her head and smiled whimsically. "I haven't told him yet, but I think he suspects I'm in love with him. I wouldn't have agreed to marry him otherwise. I'm very patient, have to be since I teach four and five-year-olds every day." She touched Irene's hand briefly.
"I'm happy you felt confident sharing your story with me, and I will say this: it's up to you to make a difference in your life.
No one else can or is supposed to. Parents, or people on the whole, disappoint us.
We cannot seek happiness from someone else.
We have to find it within us. You have been through a tremendous amount of trauma that no child is supposed to face, but you have life and it's time to do things your way.
" She glanced at her watch. "I'm afraid I'm running late. "
"One more thing before you go." This time it was Irene who hesitated.
"Mother is a formidable force and a powerful enemy to have.
She would have wanted someone malleable for Dean's wife; someone she could easily influence.
In her own twisted way, she loves Dean and considers him her favorite.
Perhaps it's because he looks so much like her.
She also knows he holds her in utter contempt and is afraid of being excluded from his life.
She will see you as a threat. I'm asking you to watch your back. "
Ignoring the sliver of alarm that slid through her, Catherine nodded. "I don't scare easily, but thanks for the warning. Now, I really have to go." She started to open the door and stopped. "I would like you to be my attendant, if you don't mind."
Irene's face lit up with pleasure. "I would consider it my pleasure."
"Good." Catherine grinned at her. "You get to choose your own dress. I know how awful it can be when a dress is chosen for you. You have carte blanche on the color and style."
"Whew!" Irene blew out a breath. "With my coloring I tend to look sallow if I'm not careful. Thanks, Catherine. And welcome to the family."
*****
"Are you going to tell me or should I consider dragging it out of you?"
They were sitting out on the porch where she had put a table so they could enjoy the lovely spring evening and watch Galahad chase squirrels. The chicken Alfredo had been consumed, and she had brought out the coffee and sponge cake she had made the day before.
"How would you accomplish that?" she asked curiously as she sipped her brew. "Waterboarding or putting screws under my fingernails?"
His glower had her lips twitching. It amazed her how much of a routine they had developed in such a brief time.
Less than two months ago, he was a stranger to her and now he had become the most important person in her life.
She did not see him as the former playboy, maybe because she knew what had prompted his former destructive behavior.
He was attentive and patient with her and, as his sister had remarked earlier, he was fiercely protective.
He might not know it yet, but he was in love with her.
"Catherine, please answer the question."
She was relaxed, the porch swing moving rhythmically. He was seated next to her, one hand thrown over the back, fingers touching her shoulder.
"I do love it when you speak to me in that authoritative tone. It makes me all shivery and warm."
His eyes narrowed at her effort to evade the question. "I'm not going to stop until you answer me, even if it takes all night." He stretched his long legs out, the expression on his face resolute.