Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Bleary-eyed, Emma walked out of the airport in Boston, Massachusetts, squinting against the bright spring sunshine.
Her eyes itched, her back ached from the red-eye flight, and uncertainty settled in her chest like a stone.
The morning air was cool against her face, carrying the fragrance of blooming flowers.
So different from the salt-tinged breeze she’d left behind in Redemption.
Nathan already stood waiting at the curb. He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’ve ordered a rideshare.” His voice was threaded with fatigue. “Catch up later?”
She blinked up at him. “We landed less than thirty minutes ago. Where are you going?”
He stepped forward and gently cupped her cheek with his palm, then pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Something’s come up. I’ve got to go, but your mom’s here.”
Oh no. Emma stifled a groan. “Why?”
“I asked her to come so you wouldn’t have to worry about the logistics of getting back to your place,” Nathan said as a Lincoln Town Car swooped in. The driver got out, put Nathan’s bags in the trunk, and quickly returned to the driver’s seat.
Nathan waved, then slid into the dark, cavernous back seat. He’d barely pulled the door closed before the vehicle eased away from the curb.
“Hello, darling. Over here!” Her mother stood beside a brand-new Audi SUV, waving. She wore wide beige linen pants and a crisp white button-down, her brown hair styled in a neat chignon at the base of her neck.
“Hi, Mom.” Emma hugged her, then leaned back, scanning her face. “You look pretty. How was your trip to Egypt?”
“Splendid, of course. Richard is a dream to travel with.” Her mother clicked a button on her key fob, and the hatch at the back of the silver SUV glided into the air. “Put your bag in here.”
Emma hesitated. Was her mom not going to ask about Alaska at all?
There wasn’t a hint of distress on her mother’s face.
Emma had spent the entire flight wrestling with gnawing doubt, drifting in and out of fitful sleep in her cramped coach seat.
Had her mother been right? Maybe she didn’t belong in Alaska.
Maybe Luke deserved better. But was she really needed here?
She studied her mother’s smooth, dewy complexion. Something was off.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” Mom’s keys jangled as she tucked them into her bright yellow designer handbag.
I’m not. She swallowed back the snide words. “How’s Richard?”
“At home, resting. He’s much better now, really.”
Emma’s fingers tightened around the handle of her suitcase. “Much better? What happened?”
Her mother adjusted the strap on her designer handbag. “He was terribly sick after our trip to Egypt. Something dreadful he picked up. But he’s made a remarkable recovery. Surely you’re happy about that, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” Emma stowed her bag, distracted by fatigue and confusion over Nathan’s quick departure from the airport.
They climbed into the car, the leather seats cold against her skin. “Thank you for picking me up. Hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.”
“Are you kidding?” Mom patted her hand. “This is a delight. We get to catch up.”
“Catch up. Right.” Emma clicked her seat belt into place. “I’m sure you’re dying to hear all about Redemption.”
Her mother’s smile faltered. “Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. You were never meant for that rugged little town. That’s why I made sure you got out before you ruined your life.”
Emma refused to get into an argument. There was no point in telling her mother what these last two weeks in Redemption had meant to her.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the circular drive of a colonial-style mansion.
The place looked as pristine as ever. She had been here only a handful of times since her mother married Richard.
Flowers bloomed in massive terra-cotta planters, and gorgeous matching wreaths hung from the bright red double front doors.
“The place looks lovely.”
“Thank you. There’s a whole team of people keeping it spick and span. Grab your bag and come in. I’m sure you’re starving. Would you like a mimosa? And Richard makes a mean omelet.”
Emma frowned. “I’m sure he does, but I don’t expect Richard to make me breakfast.”
“It’s no trouble. He loves to cook. He’s phenomenal.”
She grabbed her bag, then followed her mother inside and looked around.
Gleaming hardwood floors. Expensive white furniture.
Fresh flowers on every flat surface. Classical music wafting from a wireless speaker.
Richard, a man in his early sixties with a Stanley Tucci-like vibe, sat in a recliner near a broad expanse of windows overlooking a pool and a lush garden.
He glanced up and smiled, pulling off his reading glasses and setting them on a side table.
Pushing aside a light blanket draped over his lap, he stood.
“Emma.” He smiled, his ruddy cheeks creasing. “What a wonderful surprise.”
Emma turned sharply toward her mother, her insides bubbling like a shaken pop can. “Why is he surprised?”
Her mother sighed, a weary, put-upon sound. “Don’t be so quick to judge. I needed you home and you’re here. Richard’s happy to see you. Isn’t that what matters?”
“No. It isn’t.” Emma’s voice trembled. “Why did Nathan ask you to come pick me up?”
Richard’s blue eyes slid from her mother to Emma, then back. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but we’re thrilled to have you, nonetheless.”
“Honey, Emma’s starving. She’s flown all night. Would you whip up one of your egg-white omelets, please?”
“I’d be happy to, dear.” Richard patted Emma’s arm. “Lovely to see you again. Come into the kitchen in a few minutes. I want to hear all about Alaska.”
Emma clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “Mom, why am I here?”
Her mother’s eyes flashed. “Because it is high time you start thinking about your future. I’m not going to stand back and let you sabotage your engagement. The Prescotts are one of Boston’s finest families. Everyone knows that. How could you mess that up?”
Spots peppered her vision. “I didn’t sabotage anything. Nathan’s not the saint you think he is.”
“I never said a word about saint.” Her mother waved a dismissive hand. “We all make mistakes.”
Emma’s whole body trembled. “That may be the only thing you and I agree about today.”
Her mother’s expression hardened. “Whatever you left behind in Redemption, it’s for the best. Now come into the kitchen. I’ll fix you that mimosa, and since you’re here, there’s something important we should discuss. Something I’ve been meaning to speak with you about for a long time.”
Sighing, Emma left her purse and suitcase in the hallway by the door, then trailed after her mother.
Mom took a seat at the kitchen table. Sunlight streamed through the windows behind her. Richard stood at the massive island, cracking eggs into a glass mixing bowl. He’d put an apron on that said Always kiss the chef. “Mimosa? Bloody Mary?”
“Just water, please,” Emma said. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Richard retrieved a glass bottle of sparkling water from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap, then brought it to her.
“I’m exhausted, Mom. What’s so urgent that we need to talk about it right now?”
Her mother took a seat at the kitchen table, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her linen pants. “It’s your father.”
Her stomach pitched. She slid the water closer but didn’t take a sip. “What about him?”
“I’ve just been thinking how it’s so unfortunate that his parole was denied.” Her mother hesitated, scraping at a spot on the table with her red manicured nail. “It’s really time he gets out.”
“Agreed,” Emma said. “But why the sudden change of heart?”
Her mother sighed, then glanced out the window. “Because I never expected him to go to jail, much less spend twenty years there.”
“Mom, is there something you’re not telling me?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Mom whispered. “It should’ve been me.”
The room tilted. “What did you say?”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “We needed the money, Emma. I didn’t know everyone would react the way they did, and then things got out of hand.”
A chill raked her spine. “I-I don’t understand.”
“I did it, Emma. I was the one behind the illegal transfer of funds and the wire fraud. Your father covered for me.”
The air left the room. Richard cleared his throat. “I think I’ll check the garage refrigerator for more spinach and cheese. Excuse me.”
Emma’s hands curled into fists. “You let him go to jail for you. You let him be cut off from the world for twenty years, and you let me believe—”
“I never meant for things to spiral out of control. He took the blame to protect me. Neither one of us thought he’d get more than a couple of years.
Maybe five at the most, but then he got that massive sentence and everyone turned against us.
I had no choice but to leave town. It was such a nightmare. ”
Emma leaned forward and fixed her mother with a fierce glare. “A nightmare that you could’ve prevented, Mom.”
“Yes, I know.” Mom swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “But it’s too late now.”
“It’s never too late.” Emma shot to her feet. “We have to fix this. There has to be a way to make this right.”
“So you’re saying you want me to go to jail?” Her mother scoffed. “That would make your father’s time in prison pointless.”
“This is horrifying.”
The door to their garage swung open, and someone came in behind Richard.
“Kendall?” Emma faced Nathan’s sister. “What are you doing here?”
Kendall strode toward her, wearing wide-legged denim trousers, high-heeled wedge sandals, and a silky orange blouse with puffed short sleeves. “I’m glad I caught up with you. Sorry to drop in unannounced, but this was the quickest way to get to you without Nathan.”
“What are you talking about? We just got back from Alaska.”
“So I heard.” Kendall’s gaze flitted between Emma and her mother. “There’s something you should know.”
Emma groaned. “Not you too.”