39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Maci
A head of lunch with Stephanie, my anxiety is through the roof. Our mother-daughter connection was damaged long ago. There has been so little attempt on her part, or desire on mine, to rectify the situation. It’s hard to want a relationship with someone who insists all of your emotions are too big, too bold, too rash. As if emotion is unwarranted and I’m here to appease other people.
I can’t imagine what we have to talk about. Certainly nothing that truly matters.
The air is finally beginning to cool, though it’s not an overly crisp day. The wind gusts casually and the sun has stayed low, a large amber orb in the sky.
We never discussed where lunch would take place, but it will be a cold day in Hell before my mother is caught underdressed. I choose a green, long-sleeve smocked dress and knee high suede boots. It’s a young, sophisticated look and dressier than usual for me, especially with my hair pinned up on one side, so she shouldn’t have much to comment on.
I’m past the point of caring whether or not Stephanie has an opinion, but sometimes I pick my battles. Especially going in blind, like today .
She arrives with a flourish, sweeping through the door grandly and calling loudly for me despite my location in the living room. Something she would know if she’d take a beat to observe. “Maci Grace!”
Her stilettos tap on the entry floor. She looks lovely in her pink, organza blouse and sleek, black pants. “I’m right here, Stephanie.” It’s an effort to keep my tone pleasant, but an effort I make because I’d at least like to try and start on the right foot.
The deep sigh she expels tells me it doesn’t work. “Let’s get going. I’m meeting Randi here in two hours and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Are we taking your car?” I slip my leather crossbody on and lock the door as I follow her onto the porch.
“Yes. I’m not driving around in your death trap.”
She’s not even trying.
“It’s not a death trap. That model is one of the most dependable years, too.”
“The point remains.”
At the restaurant, a German establishment on the river, she requests a patio table. As soon as we’re seated she begins her usual.
“I’m surprised you chose that dress.”
The laminated menu snaps against the table as I set it down firmly and force a pleasant smile. I can’t convince my eyes to soften yet. “You look lovely, Mother.” Again, I choose the high road. My tone is genuine because the sentiment is.
Stephanie blinks. Her menu drops softly before her. Momentarily, she purses her lips in contemplation.
When she says nothing after a moment, I allow my gaze to wander, taking in the residents and tourists milling along the street. Though River Road is a main entrance to town, only a few locales have storefronts here. The majority of people are feeding ducks, against the warning of the posted signs, and walking, running, or biking along the riverfront trail.
“Alan wants to contest the will.” Her voice is matter-of-fact, but it wouldn’t make a difference how she said it, I’m not even a little surprised.
The server approaches with our drinks, offering to take our order. When she’s gone again, I finally respond.
“I’m not surprised. All he’s ever concerned with is status or assets.” She pins me with a long, hard stare.
“I’m not going to do it.”
My eyebrows jump. “I’m surprised you aren’t moving forward with it, since Alan wants you to. But like you said while you were here for the funeral, you took what was sentimental to you. Your life isn’t here.”
“Your life isn’t here, either.” She folds her hands in her lap, minute movements jostling her arms. My gaze narrows. Have I always missed her fidgeting this frequently? Certainly not. She’s always impeccably composed.
“You’re right. I started building a life in Austin. But I’m young, it’s a lot easier for me to move. Nothing is truly tying me there.” Her eyes widen slowly. “My best friends are here. Liv is here, and I would love to have a stronger relationship with her.”
I don’t mention Sutton. Not because he doesn’t matter, he matters more than I care to admit, but Stephanie will assume my entire choice is based on a man. I don’t care if she thinks I’m foolish, but a part of me wants to protect Sutton because I love him.
I love him .
“Friends come and go.”
“Not these friends. ”
A huff. She leans forward and places her hand atop mine. Ice flows into my veins. “This isn’t the right place for you.” Her eyes are insistent, still wide, and there’s a level of anxiety in her voice.
What the hell is going on with her?
I place my other hand on top of hers and lean forward, holding her gaze purposefully. “I wish we had a relationship where I could come to you and you could advise me on my life. But that’s not us. You don’t ask about my work, you’ve never seen my apartment, you don’t care to know my friends, and you’ve repressed anything emotional I’ve ever tried to share with you. You chose your husband over me time and again. Even when it was dangerous. Something you clearly knew.
“So please don’t sit here and act like you care what I do. I wish you did. I always will. Because I do not understand what I could have ever done as a child for you to always find me so inferior. But I have come to terms with our relationship.” My voice is barely a whisper when I finish. Tears line her lower lids, but she blinks them away. And I do not feel sorry for her. She drove us to this cliff.
Abruptly, she pulls back and places her hands back into her lap. Her stoic facade has returned.
“I’ve never found you inferior. I told you, everything I’ve done was to protect you. To provide stability for you.”
I stare at her for a long moment. “So having emotions would put me in danger? Showing me love would make my life unstable?”
She shakes her head and looks up at the sky like I’m being ridiculous. “It’s not that simple.”
“Of course not.” I don’t know what the point of this lunch was. “So what now? Randi sells the house and you never have to come back? You’re done raising me. Apparently I’m safe enough because you never reach out. You don’t want to know me.” My questions hang between us.
Stephanie swallows thickly. Her voice comes out quieter than I’ve ever heard. “I didn’t know how hard it was going to be.” Her eyes fall to the brick patio and I suspect she’s trying to hide more tears forming. When she looks at me again, it’s like she’s finally looking at me. Seeing me. “You look just like your father. Every day was more unbearable.”
My brows scrunch. “You…you don’t like me because I look like my dad?” Pain radiates through me and my eyes burn.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” A tear rolls down her cheek. She’s never cried in front of me and my eyes track the lone escapee down her face until it plummets into her lap. “I love you immensely. So much it hurts. Every day was a reminder of losing the life I had planned. But I had to be strong for us.”
The server sets our food on the table and scurries off, knowing she’s interrupting something.
“I don’t like being in Bull Creek because it’s too painful.”
I return my gaze to the people along the river. I have nothing else to say.
A group of motorcycles turns onto River Road from Main Street. The leather cuts all stand out. Instinctively, I scan the riders for Colt, but don’t find him.
Two riders lead the group, side by side. As they pass the restaurant, the one closest to us slides his gaze over the patio. James, the President.
As he did before, he does a double take, this one harder than the last. My brows furrow as he rides past. He wasn’t looking at me.
When we return from lunch, having said little else, I say a cordial goodbye to Stephanie and retreat to my room.
I’ve thrown myself onto the plush bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan when a thought occurs to me. Swiping my phone from the bedside table, I send Randi a quick message.
Me:
I know you’re meeting with Stephanie. Let’s talk before you make a decision.
Randi:
Anything for my favorite niece.
A smile crosses my lips. I don’t reiterate that I’m her only niece.
A short time later, she arrives, her sweet chatter filling the foyer, followed by my mother’s clipped words.
Unsurprisingly, no more than half an hour passes before their voices fill the entry again. The front door snicks shut at the same time that I rush out.
Randi turns, prepared to see me judging by the smug look on her face. “Why were you hiding?” She opens her arms to me and I let her squeeze me tightly.
“I wasn’t. We went to lunch and I had nothing left to say.” My aunt holds me at arm’s length, taking me in as I do her. Color has returned to her face, her eyes are no longer red-rimmed and puffy, and her hair is styled in beachy waves, all evidence of her healing. “You look good.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I love this dress.” Momentarily, she drops her eyes to the dress, but when they return to my face, one eyebrow lifts. “What’s going on?”
I frown. “Sorry? ”
A mischievous smile takes over, scrunching her eyes at the corners. “Well, first, you feel different. Alive in a way you haven’t in a long time. There’s a spark.” My cheeks heat, but I say nothing. “And secondly, you don’t usually call meetings with me, especially where your mother is concerned.”
Randi is the easy-going one, so it’s easy to lose track of how much she takes in. I gesture to the couches with one arm. “Let’s talk?”
Her loving smile renews my confidence.
When we’re seated, she waits patiently for me to begin. At first, I’m not sure where to start. Are the house and Sutton two different scenarios? Did the possibility of one shift my view of the other? Would I have ended up here if one was missing?
Yes. Because Nana was the catalyst. Not the house for Sutton, or Sutton for the house.
Randi continues to study me quietly.
“Are you going to sell the house?” Given that I messaged her, her lack of surprise is anticipated.
She continues to study me openly. “I told you, I have fond memories here, but I have no need for this house.” As suspected. “Are you going to buy the house?”
I shouldn’t be surprised by her question. She’s hinted at something like this. “Even with my business being steady, I’m not confident I could make a loan happen right now. My savings is tiny.” I don’t feel weak admitting my current situation to her. “I think this house has the potential to share its beauty and love with many more people, though. And I have some ideas on how to do that. If it’s something you might be interested in.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want to be closer to you guys.” For years, I’ve kept most of my emotions surface level, conditioned not to show them. It feels important to be open. My life is at a crossroads and I want to be active in it. Including taking risks for reward.
“We would love to see more of you. We miss you, too.” She squeezes my knee where ours touch on the sofa.
I place my hand on top of hers. “I’d like to move here. Move my business here. There are so many special places on the property that would be perfect for photo shoots.” Randi’s head leans to one side. She knows there’s more. “I don’t need a house this big, though, and even if I could secure a loan, my business will need time to grow here. I think we should consider turning the house into a bed and breakfast.” At last, I suck in a large breath and hold it, chewing my lip.
Randi has been focused on me, listening carefully. Now, she studies the floor absently and the wheels in her brain are turning. “Do you know what your mom asked me for?”
I shake my head. “We didn’t discuss it. Only that Alan wants her to contest the will.”
She nods. “She won’t.” A smile passes her lips. “She asked that if you decide to move back I keep an eye on you. Though, I got the impression she’s really hoping you don’t.”
“She tried to persuade me against moving at lunch.”
“Maci, if you want Nana’s house, I’m happy to sign it over to you.” She pauses, chewing her bottom lip. “I never would’ve kept the house from Steph if it wasn’t Mom’s wishes. I’m not surprised over the stipulation, given her feelings toward Alan, though. Anyway, it’s a family house. Hopefully there’s a way to maintain that.”
“Liv already told me she’s never wanted to live here, but I didn’t tell her about business ideas. I’d love to share it with her if she wants. Thank you. ”
Randi leans forward and we wrap each other in a long hug. Something about the new plan for Nana’s house is therapeutic. Knowing it won’t be lost from our family or fall into disrepair. If anything, this house has so much more life coming into it.
“I’ll let you know as soon as the documents are taken care of.” She stands and together we walk to the front door. “You better be coming around a lot more often.”
“Of course."
Randi pushes through the storm door, waving behind her. As she crests the top stair, a motorcycle rumbles down the street toward the driveway.
Randi slips into the driver’s seat with another wave as the motorcycle pulls onto the drive and my heartbeat accelerates, expecting to see Colt. The man atop the bike isn’t him, though.
It’s James.
He parks near the base of the porch steps and slides off the bike. He doesn’t have a helmet and somehow his hair is impeccably styled despite the wind. Vibrant, green eyes never leave mine as he makes his way up the steps, no cut in sight.
He doesn’t seem hesitant and yet I still have no idea why he’s here. The top button is open on his black dress shirt and a hint of ink and hair peek out. Even coupled with dark jeans and riding boots, he’s far from the quintessential biker look.
The wood planks of the porch thud softly beneath my boots and I let the storm door close with a snap behind me.
“James.” My greeting is formal. Is he here for Colt? My brows are growing sore with how tightly I’ve pulled them in and it’s an effort to soften my expression. Nothing can be done about my heart .
“Maci.” He remembers my name? “Is she here?” His green eyes flit over my shoulder to the open front door.
I cock my head. “My grandmother? She passed recently.”
Returning his eyes to me, he swallows. “I’m sorry to hear that.” His accent filters through again. “I was asking after your mother.”
“Stephanie?” Now, I’m thoroughly confused.
“Aye.” Irish then. He remains silent.
I blink. My heart hurts. Anticipation crashes through my body.
“She’s not. She doesn’t live here. In fact, you just missed her.” I press my lips together before adding, “We had lunch together.” I’m fishing. I know he saw us.
James rubs a hand over his mouth. “I can see now she hasn’t told you.”
What don’t I know? Is Stephanie having an affair? I’m going to be sick. My throat is thick and my voice comes out hardly above a whisper. “Pardon?”
He takes a half-step forward. “Maci, I’m your father.”