“So what?” I said, my voice sharp. “Stoningham was never exactly warm and welcoming, Miller. I was always Genevieve’s poor little orphan grandchild, proof of her royal goodness. Your family dumped me as soon as it was clear I wasn’t going to inherit a shitload of money. Courtney and Robert have never even met Riley, Jason won’t commit to helping with college, and now Genevieve told me she’s flat broke, so I wasted this whole summer, hoping for scraps from her table so my kid wouldn’t have to scratch her way through school the way I did. And Riley, the poor kid, loves that gorgon, and that gorgon is about to off herself because she doesn’t want to get old like a mere mortal.”
Miller stood up. “Okay. Two things.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “One. You haven’t wasted the summer. Your daughter is doing great and got to meet her great-grandmother. She made friends here and spent time with her brothers. You got to spend time with your sister. You got a job here. You met a nice guy who likes you a lot.”
I gave a begrudging nod.
“Don’t just nod at me,” he said, and I smiled a little, respecting him for not putting up with my tantrum.
“You’re right. I met a nice guy, and I also like him a lot. And his daughter.”
“Thank you. And two . . . I’ll pay for Riley’s college, Emma. The Finlays owe you that much. The company is doing great. If that asshole cousin of mine won’t step up, I will.”
I could probably love Miller Finlay. I probably already did. “You won’t pay for my daughter’s school, Miller. But thank you.”
“Personally, I’d like it if you stayed. I’m not asking you to marry me since we’ve been on all of one shitty date, but I’d like Stoningham a lot more if you were in it. And so would your sister. Your daughter could be close to her brothers. You’d be here for the gorgon, because you love her, no matter what you say.”
He was right. I always had, and I still did. No matter what she’d done to me after I got pregnant, no matter her harsh words that day and her seventeen years of silence, I loved my grandmother. She’d taken me in when I was alone, and if she wasn’t soft and loving, she’d made me . . . strong. Self-sufficient. Independent.
I was a London after all.
“Well?” said Miller. “You gonna admit I’m right?”
“Can you just shut up and stop being wise and calm?”
“It’s kind of my thing.”
“I like you better when you’re desperate and exhausted.” I sighed, then smiled. “You’re right.”
He knelt down in front of me, then looked at Hope. “Is it okay if I kiss your sister?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, of course, which he took as a yes.
This kiss was different. In the past, we’d been a little tentative, me too aware of his widower status, his sleeping child, my temporary status in his life. Those kisses had been nice, for sure.
This kiss was a man making a statement. Warm, hard, deep and perfect, his hands cradling my shorn head.
Hope laughed, and we broke apart. “Way to kill the mood, Hope,” Miller said, not looking away from me.
“Can you get away for an hour?” I asked, my voice husky.
“Hell yes.”
I scooped Hope out of her swing, took her hand and led her over to the courtyard, where Gerry was scrolling through his phone. “Just about to come get you,” he said. “Time for swim class, missy.”
“See you tomorrow, Gerry,” I said, then kissed my sister’s soft cheek. “Love you, angel.”
Then I followed Miller to his truck. We didn’t talk as we drove, and when he pulled into a motel, I waited as he got us a room. Number 101. My lucky number. At least, it was from now on.
We went inside, and the room was completely unremarkable in every way, except he was here. Miller locked the door, tossed his keys on the table and then took my face in his hands and kissed me, and it was even better than before, hot and hard, tongue and teeth, his hands sliding down my back to cup my ass. I pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and ran my hands up his ribs, around his back. His skin was sun-warm and smooth, and when I kissed his neck, he tasted like salt and sweat, and my knees wobbled.
Then he pulled my shirt over my head and gently pushed me back on the bed into a patch of sunlight and took off the rest of my clothes.
You forget how it is to be with another person when you’ve gone for so long without one. How his weight on top of you is so welcome, how the heat of skin against skin feels at once shocking and familiar. How you can feel languid and charged with electricity at the same time, sinking into the mattress and pushing up against him for more contact, your eyes fluttering shut while every nerve ending buzzes and hums. You forget the pleasure of giving pleasure, the smug sense of satisfaction when you find out what the other likes. The sweet shock of connection, the bliss of togetherness.
You forget what it is to rely on someone, to trust someone, to feel so full of happiness just because one person—your person—has chosen you.
* * *
* * *
Miller drove me back to Rose Hill so I could get my car.
“I have a lot to think about,” I said.
“You do.”
“Thanks for being . . . yourself.”
“Look,” he said, leaning against my car. “If you need to go back to Chicago, I get that. My own life isn’t really under control, so I probably shouldn’t be giving anyone advice.”
It sounded like a precursor to this was a mistake. I nodded, feeling my muscles start to tighten.
“But if you did stay, I’d be really, really happy. Selfishly. Because I’d get to see you more than if I have to fly out to Chicago.”
My heart practically jumped out of my chest into his hands. “So . . . you’d come out and visit? We’re not just a summer fling?”
“You’re the second person I’ve ever slept with, Emma. I don’t do flings.”
“You’re the second person I’ve slept with, too.”
“We’re basically freaks of nature in this day and age.”
“That’s fine with me.” The happy, warm buzzing was back.
“Me too.” He smiled, tugging my gooey caramel heart, then kissed my nose, which thrilled me. Yep. I had it bad. “I have to get back to work,” he said.
“Then get out of here.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” Smiling like a happy dope, I got into my car before I blurted out my love for him and the names of our future pets.
And as I drove away, I decided it was time to pay Jason a visit. I called his house, and Jamilah answered. “Hey, it’s Emma!” I said.
“How are you?”
“I’m good. Is Jason there? I was thinking I’d stop by.”
“Oh.” There was a pause. “Um . . . he’s still living with his parents, Emma.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I filed for divorce.”
“Oh! I thought . . . I thought you were getting back together.”
“No. I tried, but no.”
I paused. “Is it okay if I say something judgmental right now?”
“Go for it.”
“You deserve so much better.”
She laughed. “I’ve been thinking that about you since the day we met.”
“I’ll remind him of your son’s birthdays, too. You know. The way you did for Riley. Your boys are part of our family, too.”
Her voice was husky when she spoke. “That Jason. He sure gets the best women, doesn’t he?”
“He does. Let’s get together this week, okay?”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Emma.”
I took the all-too-familiar road to Courtney and Robert’s house. It was time for Jason to tell me just how much he was contributing to Riley’s college expenses. No more tap dancing around my goodwill.
Their house hadn’t changed much. Courtney still
had those ugly plaster geese lining the walk. I knocked on the front door, loudly, and a second later, she answered, then jumped back in surprise like I was going to hit her. “Emma! What are you doing here?”
“So nice to see you, too, Courtney.”
“What do you want? Jason, I suppose. I hope you’re proud of yourself, breaking up him and Jamilah. She was the best thing that ever happened to him.”
I leaned past her head. “Jason! I need to talk to you.”
“You have no manners,” Courtney said.
“Really? This from the woman who has ignored her granddaughter for sixteen years? Who blamed her son’s girlfriend for getting pregnant, like I could do that on my own? You’re trash, Courtney. No amount of ass kissing and social climbing will ever change that.”
Jason appeared in the foyer, chewing something. Right. It was dinnertime. The afternoon at the motel had taken a lot more than an hour. I squished down the pleasure that thought induced and stuck with righteous anger.
“Hey, Em,” Jason said. “What’s up? You want to grab a drink somewhere?”
“No. I need you to tell me exactly how much you’ll give to Riley’s college expenses. Now. Miller told me the company’s doing really well, so how much, Jason?”
“Robert!” Courtney called. “You need to come here.”
“Why do we have to talk about this now?” Jason asked. “I can’t predict how well the company—”
“How much, Jason? Can I put you down for half, or would you like to cover it all?”
Robert Finlay appeared in the front hall. “Oh. Hello, Emma.” Like we’d seen each other yesterday, not seventeen years ago when he let his wife kick me out of their house for having the audacity to get pregnant by his son.
I ignored him. “How much, Jason?”
“Look,” he said. “Jamilah and I are getting a divorce, so things will be tight.”
“So you’ve never saved any money for your daughter’s education? You just figured she’d turn eighteen and your child support payments would end, and she’d be on her own for college. Is that it?”
“He’s not obliged to pay anything,” Courtney said.
“Legally, no. Morally, another story.”
Jason’s face was getting that look I knew so well, since I’d seen it so many times. The jaw hardening, the eyes going flat. The look that said, Don’t push me.
All these years, I’d told myself he was a good guy. A good father. A good friend.
He wasn’t. He was just . . . nothing. A man who had to be reminded to interact with his daughter.
“I can’t commit to a figure,” he said. “I’ll help if I can.”
“But you won’t help, will you? In fact, you’re the one who’s always needed help, haven’t you? From your parents, from the family business, from Jamilah. And here you are, living in Mommy and Daddy’s basement. How proud you’ve made everyone, Jason.”
I turned and walked down the path to my car. As I got in, I saw Robert scuttling down the path toward me.
“Emma, wait,” he said.
“What?”
“Uh . . . well, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Don’t waste my time, Robert. What is it?”
“I’ll pay for Riley’s college.”
“I’m surprised you even know her name.”
He sighed. “Yeah. We should’ve done more. Courtney . . .” He looked off to the house. “I should’ve done more. I’m sorry.”
“Too little, too late.”
“Let me pay for her college. We can afford it.”
For a second, I imagined it—my daughter living with the knowledge that the grandparents who didn’t find her worthy of a single visit had soothed their guilt with a check.
“Take your money, and shove it up your ass, Robert. You’re a weak man, and you raised a weak son. And your wife is a heartless, shallow bitch.”
“I know,” he said. “But please. Let me do this. Riley doesn’t have to know where the money came from. It’s the right thing to do. We owe her that much.” He paused. “We owe her a lot more.”
I swallowed. I didn’t want his guilt money. I wanted . . . I wanted to do it all myself.
But I couldn’t.
If I let Robert pay for college, Riley would know her grandfather cared enough to at least write a check. That he felt remorse. That he was trying to make amends.
Maybe Riley deserved the chance to be forgiving. She’d forgiven Gigi, after all, and maybe Robert deserved the same chance.
“I accept your offer,” I said.
“I’d like to meet her. I always wanted to, but . . . yeah. I’m a weak man.”
“People can change, Robert.” With that, I backed up and drove home, feeling oddly calm.
I would wait on telling Riley about this, of course. But she was no dummy. I had the sneaking suspicion she knew more than I gave her credit for, about Jason, and me. That despite my education and practice, I was pretty damn naive about people.
Not anymore.
When I got to Sheerwater, I went straight to my room and took a long shower in the glorious bathroom, then got dressed in my pajamas—it was seven o’clock, after all. Went downstairs and found Riley, Donelle, Rav and Helga playing cards in the conservatory, the windows open, the fireplace on to counter the chilly breeze.
Gigi and Pop sat in wing chairs by the fire, watching the card players. There was an air of camaraderie between those two, which struck me as both strange and comforting. My only grandparents. The ones who’d stepped up when my parents had failed me.
“Hi, Mom!” Riley said. “How was your day?”
I went over and kissed her head. “It was great,” I said. “How about yours?
“Also great. Want to play? It’s poker. Donelle is killing us.”
“I warned you,” she said.
“Hi, Dr. London,” Rav said.
“Hello, dear boy.”
Riley snorted.
“I need a moment with Gigi,” I said. “Maybe you can deal me in after that.”
“You missed dinner,” Helga said. “Don’t go messing around in my kitchen just because you’re late.”
I ignored that. “Genevieve? Can I talk to you? Hi, Pop.” I kissed his bristly cheek.
“I was wondering when I’d get acknowledged,” he grumbled.
Gigi got up, wobbling a bit, and my grandfather reached out a hand. I took her arm, and we went into my grandfather’s study, where it was quiet and dark. I turned on a lamp—a Tiffany original, probably—and ushered Gigi into a fat leather chair, then sat across from her.
“I couldn’t play cards tonight,” she said. “I seem to have forgotten how.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you angry with me?”
“A little. Here’s the deal. We’re staying. We’ll take care of you, Riley and I. Make me your medical proxy, and I’ll do right by you. You won’t die alone, Gigi.”
Her face stayed carved in stone for a second. Then she put her hand over her eyes. “I don’t want to die badly, Emma. I don’t want to be in diapers, drooling and afraid. Please help me die with some dignity. Some grace.”
“I won’t help you die. But I will help you live, however long you have left.”
“I don’t want Riley to see me when I’m senile.”
“I understand that. But we don’t get to pick how we go, Gigi. And we can’t teach her that just because things are hard, you check out. We have to do better than that for her.”
She started to cry, and I moved over to her chair and sat next to her.
“Why would you take care of me, Emma? I failed you.”
“I won’t fail you.”
“How can you say that? I was horrible.”
“You did your best.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
That was all.
It was enough.
CHAPTER 35
Miller
Miller had to work late to make up for the afternoon delight with Emma, which didn’t thrill his mother-in-law. He stood in the kitchen, getting a summary of his child’s misbehavior, noise volume and destruction and why her hair had a marshmallow half melted into it, all while Tess ran around the kitchen, banging a pot with a candle, naked. David, his father-in-law, was apparently asleep in the living room, which was about par for the course.
“You need to get her potty trained,” Judith said.
“We’re working on it.” In fact, last night, Tess had woken up four times, promised she would go on the potty, then sat there for half an hour each time, staring stonily at him, easily winning the battle of wills.
But nothing was going to crash his good mood today.
Oh, and speaking of that, he should probably say something to his former mother-in-law about dating Emma.
“Tess, let’s get your clothes on, honey,” he said.
“No! I not get my clothes on!” She ran into another part of the house, and Miller followed. The talk about dating could wait.
Half an hour and some more inner ear damage later, courtesy of his child’s screams, Tess was diapered, mostly dressed and strapped into the car seat. “You so mean, Daddy. I hate you.”
“It would be easier for us both if you just kept your clothes on.”
“I hate clothes. I hate you. I hate Nana. I hate car.”
“It’s hard, being three. I’m sorry you’re upset.” It sounded like something Emma would say, and Tess side-eyed him. But she stopped her tirade, and he couldn’t help a smile.
When he got home, he let Luigi out so the cat would be safe from Tess’s attention, locked the door, set the alarm. Tess watched him, her eyes narrowed.
“You can play or color if you want. Daddy has to make dinner. Or you could help me, if you want.”
Life and Other Inconveniences Page 36