by Zoe Carter
Warwick frowns as he notices my reaction, but I can’t stop staring. Just like Maisey, Caleb is all grown up. The last time I saw him, he was still a boy.
“Who the fuck is that?” My husband throws his napkin on the table.
“Warwick,” Eleanor says, shooting him an evil look that he ignores. “Language, please. You’re in polite company.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Seriously, Sarah—who is that?”
“It’s my mother.” Covering my plate with my own napkin so they won’t see how much—or how little—I’ve eaten, I reluctantly get to my feet. Trust Alice to mess things up. What on earth is she doing with him? I’m relieved she’s at least standing upright. That’s progress. There’s a weird twinge in my stomach. Why is he spending time with her? I haven’t seen him in years.
“I assumed that much.” Warwick’s voice is a snarl, and my sister flinches. “Who’s with her?”
“That’s Caleb, our stepbrother.”
It’s no wonder my husband is instantly threatened. Caleb is his opposite—he is dark where Warwick is blond, he is slender where my husband is broad, and he loved me while my husband...covets me.
Caleb’s so handsome, his smile kind as he speaks to Alice and intertwines their arms.
But he wasn’t always kind.
“I’m not in love with you, Sarah.”
The moonlight turns his sweet face cold and cruel, a mockery of the person I’ve come to care for so much. I feel something break inside me. He’s the one thing that’s kept me going this summer, the one who’s kept me sane. He can’t do this to me—he just can’t.
Hating myself for my weakness, I sink to my knees in the hallway, sobbing until my head feels like it will split apart. It’s pathetic, but I can’t do anything to stop it. He takes hold of my arms, pulling me to my feet.
“We agreed this would only be for the summer, remember? For God’s sake, you’re my stepsister. It’s too weird. It could never work. What would your mom think? Or my dad? Peter would flip if he found out. He trusts us.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks. I love you.” I close my eyes, praying he won’t reject me again.
He seems to hesitate, and my heart swells with hope. I’ve never told him how I feel. I was afraid to. Of course he knew I cared about him, but now that he’s aware of the depth of my feelings—that he was never a fling to me—maybe he’ll change his mind. It doesn’t matter what he’s said tonight. Actions speak louder than words, and he’s always treated me with such tenderness. I’m certain he loves me as much as I love him. Everyone who counts would understand we belong together. Maisey, Mother—they both adore him. As for his father—well, Peter can go rot.
Caleb shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, Sarah, but I can’t do this anymore. It’s too wrong.” Hoisting his duffel bag over his shoulder, he opens the screen door and I run after him, my mind racing. I can’t let him go; I just can’t. He has no idea what Peter’s like when he’s not around. His father always gets in such a mood when Caleb leaves—there’s no telling what he’ll do to us. Caleb never sees the worst of his father, but Maisey and I see nothing else.
“Please don’t leave. You can’t do this to me.” The gravel of the driveway scrapes my bare feet, but I hardly feel it.
“If he wakes up and you’re not here, he’ll blame me.”
“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” he says as he gets into his Jeep.
“I’m sorry.”
The slam of the car door cuts off my protests. Grabbing for the handle, I yank on it, but he’s locked the door. I watch in disbelief as he backs down the driveway and takes off without sparing me another glance. I never really thought he’d go. But then again, when has Caleb ever lied to me? Unlike everyone else in my life, he means what he says and he says what he means.
I’ll never love another man. The bastards always leave.
“Aren’t you going to greet your guests, Sarah? Sarah?”
Warwick gives me a nudge, and I realize his mother has been attempting to get my attention. Eleanor gives me an odd look. What is wrong with you?
It’s not just her. All the Taylor-Coxes are staring at me, waiting for me to take charge. Finding my feet, I scoop Elliot from his Jolly Jumper and go to greet our guests. Damn Alice. Damn her to hell and back.
I lead the way toward Caleb and Alice, arranging a polite smile on my face, but my sister has no such compunction. Maisey rushes over, arms outstretched, and flings herself into our brother’s embrace.
“Caleb!”
She certainly doesn’t have a problem being affectionate with him. Remembering how awkward our own reunion had been the day before, my eyes sting. Why is she happy to see Caleb, but not me?
He seems delighted to see her, too, as he spins her in a circle. She covers his cheek with kisses, hugging him tight. I stand off to the side, wishing I could melt into the grass and disappear.
“Take it easy. You’re being too rough. You’ll hurt his leg.” Our mother tries unsuccessfully to rescue Caleb from my sister, tugging at the sleeve of Maisey’s dress. Alice’s blue eyes are vacant as always. It’s barely ten o’clock in the morning. How much could she have possibly had to drink?
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Maisey releases her hold on Caleb, clapping her hands to her chest as if she wishes she could take back her embrace. “I didn’t know you were injured.”
He ruffles her hair like she’s a child. “Don’t worry about it. It’s only a little shrapnel. I’m fine.” He walks with a slight limp, but if Mother hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have noticed.
So he did go into the army, after all. He always told us he would. Caleb had wanted to make his father proud, as if Peter were capable of an emotion other than rage. What a wasted effort that was. Both Maisey and I had done everything we could to talk Caleb out of it, but if our stepbrother had a flaw, it was his stubbornness. Once he got an idea into his head, you couldn’t do a thing to change it.
Seeing that he’s permanently injured infuriates me enough to finally find my voice. “So you didn’t succeed in killing yourself. Though I’m sure you tried your hardest.”
The chatter comes to an abrupt halt. “Sarah?” Caleb draws in a breath, and I’m instantly ashamed. He’s the last person I would have wanted to see me like this.
He pulls away from Maisey and Alice and walks over, his arms extended as if he means to give me a hug. I retreat a step, making sure Elliot is between us. Caleb’s arms drop to his sides. “It’s great to see you,” he says, but his expression tells me he’s hurt by my coldness.
“Sarah?”
Alice stumbles a bit on the grass as she joins us, squinting as if she’s having trouble focusing on my face. She’s listing a little to the side, but it’s too slight for anyone else to spot—I hope.
“Hello, Mother.”
As I kiss her cheek, I get a whiff of her breath. It’s enough to inebriate a sailor. I glance at Maisey, who shakes her head.
Don’t start, her eyes plead.
I’ve long since accepted my mother’s foibles. There’s no point trying to change her. You either take Alice as she is, or not at all. “You look beautiful,” I tell her, and she does. Her hair tumbles in wild waves around her shoulders, but it suits her. Though her dress has seen better days, at least it’s clean.
“Is that yours? You’re a mommy?” Mother squeals. She gapes at Elliot, hopping on one foot like she’s about to pee herself. Compared to Eleanor’s chilly reserve, it’s kind of endearing.
“This is my son, Elliot. And, Mother—” I beckon for Warwick to stand next to me. “This is my husband, Warwick Taylor-Cox, and these are his parents, Edward and Eleanor.”
Alice’s face crumples. “You had a baby and you didn’t tell me?” She tilts her head back to see Warwick’s face. “
Why didn’t you tell me you got married? I don’t even know this man. You girls never tell me anything. It isn’t fair. I realize you’re both ashamed of me, but I’m still your mother.”
I wish a chasm would appear beneath my feet and swallow me whole. I’d hoped to have a moment alone with Alice when she arrived so I could explain everything. Lord knows what Eleanor will think of me now.
But Eleanor doesn’t know Alice. She doesn’t have the faintest clue about our family.
Maisey rushes to reassure Alice, just as she automatically did when she was a child. “We’re not ashamed of you, Mom.”
“You are. You always have been.” Alice’s lower lip trembles. “I suppose you’re married, too.”
My sister shakes her head. “No, I’m not, Mom. I’ve been working overseas—I told you.”
Alice raises an unsteady finger and jabs Caleb in the chest. “And you? Are you married?”
“Not that I know of.” Caleb laughs. “I’m sure Sarah wanted to surprise you, Mom. Look at that adorable baby—you’re a grandmother. Pretty incredible, huh?”
He calls her
“Mom” now? What the hell is going on?
Bless Elliot. He chooses that moment to make his most charming sound, a cross between a chortle and a gurgle. Grinning at my mother, he waves a pudgy fist in her direction, and it is love at first sight.
“Hello, baby.” She crouches to gaze into my son’s eyes, stretching a finger toward him. My shoulders sag with relief when Elliot grabs it. “I’m your grandma.”
Before I can offer to show my family around, Warwick approaches Caleb, extending his hand. Somehow he makes the welcoming gesture seem threatening. “We haven’t met. I’m Warwick, Sarah’s husband. And you are?”
If Caleb is intimidated, he doesn’t show it. “I’m Caleb.” He shakes Warwick’s hand. “Peter’s son.”
This is clearly too much for Eleanor. “Who on earth is Peter?” she asks, sounding so puzzled it makes the four of us giggle. For a split second, we are a family again.
“Peter was my second husband. But he’s dead now, thank God,” my mother says, and Eleanor’s eyes widen.
“Dad always was a bit of a...challenge,” Caleb says with a grin, and kisses my mother on the cheek. Everyone laughs except for Eleanor, who purses her lips as if she’s tasted unsweetened lemonade.
My mother slings an arm around Caleb’s neck. “What a relief that his son is nothing like him. Did you know this darling boy bought me a house? I would have been homeless, thanks to his deadbeat of a father, but Caleb wouldn’t let that happen.”
A house? On a military salary? Did Maisey know about this? I raise an eyebrow at my sister, but she only shrugs.
It’s definitely time to change the subject. “Thank you both for coming. I’d be happy to show you to your rooms, and after you get settled, I can take you on a tour of the gardens, if you’d like.”
Alice notices the house for the first time. “Sarah, this is so fancy! You’re living in a palace, just like in the fairy tales. How can you afford this?”
Classy, Mother. It’s all I can do to keep from groaning out loud.
“This estate has been in the Taylor-Cox family for generations,” Eleanor informs her, staring down her nose.
“And, as Warwick’s wife, Sarah has become part of the family.” Edward puts an arm around my shoulders, smiling at my mother before the sharpness of Eleanor’s response can register. “She’s done a wonderful job of managing this old place. You should see what she’s done with the gardens. It’s truly astounding.”
Giving my shoulder a squeeze, he winks at me and I’m too stunned to say anything. Warwick’s father has never stood up for me before.
“Yes, she’s done a wonderful job,” Eleanor manages, sounding like there’s something stuck in her throat. “Sarah, can I speak to you, please?”
Here it comes. My mother-in-law leads me away from our ragtag little group, which seems to be getting along quite well, now that introductions have been made. Edward is asking Caleb about his leg, while Warwick at least pretends to show interest. Maisey’s gestures and expressions are even more exaggerated and goofy than normal as she chats with our mother. Always the ham. Alice giggles, looking a good twenty years younger than her age. We could be sisters.
Once we’re hidden from view, Eleanor’s mask drops. Her lips are pressed so tightly together they’ve gone white. I’ve never seen her this angry. If it weren’t for Elliot cooing away in my arms, she’d probably kill me. “I would think that, after everything I’ve done for you, you would have the courtesy to inform me about any additional guests.” Ah, so that’s what this is about.
“I was expecting Maisey and your mother—” The manner in which she says mother leaves no doubt as to what she thinks of Alice. “But not this Caleb person, whoever he is.”
Laughter floats over to us, Caleb’s louder than the rest. It’s more difficult than usual to concentrate on what Eleanor is saying. It’s been too long since someone has had any fun in this house, and I don’t want to miss it.
For the first time in years, I feel a rush of gratitude for my family, the whole dysfunctional lot. We may not be high society or come from old money, but at least we can let our hair down and enjoy ourselves. Which is more than I can say for Eleanor.
“Sarah? Sarah, are you even listening to me?”
“He’s my stepbrother. I would have told you, but I didn’t realize he was still in the picture. I had no idea my mother was in touch with him.” With all of those feelings and memories bubbling up to the surface, I don’t trust myself to say his name out loud again, especially in front of her. “I haven’t spoken to him in forever. Not since we were kids.”
“It seems you haven’t spoken to quite a few people. How could you not have told your mother about Elliot? I understand mothers and daughters can have their differences, but he’s her grandchild.” The child in question waves a dimpled hand at her, but she’s in no mood to be charmed. “And Warwick—why didn’t you tell her you were married? I always assumed she wasn’t at the wedding because she couldn’t attend, for whatever reason. And now I find she wasn’t invited. Please explain, because I must admit I’m confused.”
I can just imagine telling Mother about my marriage to Warwick. Alice would have been so proud.
“How did you meet him, honey?”
“Well, Mom, he was my best client and I was getting a little tired of having the shit beat out of me all the time, so it seemed like a good idea. Oh, and by the way, I’m an escort. Sorry I didn’t mention it before.”
“It’s complicated. There’s a lot of history between us.”
Eleanor straightens, lifting her chin. “This party may not mean anything to you, but it’s extremely important to me. Elliot is my only grandchild, and I’m not going to let you ruin his big day. If there are any other surprises coming, I want to know about them—now.”
My face burns as if she’d hit me. “And I’m his mother. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
Without waiting for an answer, I clutch Elliot to my chest and stalk across the lawn, returning to my guests. I hear conversation and ice clinking as I round the house. Everyone’s moved to the patio, and Emily and Bridget are both fawning over my stepbrother. Bridget is blushing like a schoolgirl. I wonder what I missed.
“Your brother is quite the character,” Edward says, raising a glass of iced tea in my direction.
“Stepbrother,” I correct without thinking. Both Caleb and Warwick stare at me. My husband gives me a death glare. For a second I wish I’d stayed with Eleanor.
“Your gardens are gorgeous,” my mom says. Her color is high, her face flushed and happy. My transgressions have apparently been forgotten. “And this house—everything is so lovely. I have no idea how you manage it—and with a new baby, too.”
Bef
ore it can sink in that my mother is praising me, appreciating me at last, Eleanor cuts through our chatter like a machete. “Sarah has plenty of help. These days it’s all she can do to take care of Elliot, and sometimes she can’t even handle that.”
Maisey pales. I can’t bear to see Caleb’s reaction, but I don’t miss my mother’s. Alice’s eyes narrow into slits.
Uh-oh.
“I find that extremely hard to believe... Ellen, is it?”
My mother-in-law huffs, drawing herself up to her full height. “Eleanor.”
“Well, Eleanor, Sarah took care of the entire family after her father died. She cleaned, she cooked, she made sure Maisey got to school and she prevented me from sticking my head in the oven—more than once.” Mother pauses to make sure everyone is paying attention to her. “Sarah has always done the work of ten, so if she has some help now, good for her. She deserves it.”
In the silence that follows, Maisey catches my eye. Wow, she mouths. Wow is right.
“Sarah’s nickname was The Little Mother,” Caleb adds, no doubt trying to lighten the poisonous atmosphere. “Her dad always used to call her that.”
Mom’s face falls, and once again it’s time to change the subject—fast.
“Are you two hungry? Because Bridget here makes the best waffles in the world. You’re in for a treat.” Hurrying over to Bridget, I whisper in her ear. “Put a shot of something in my mom’s iced tea. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it’s strong.”
She nods, disappearing into the house while Emily distributes more water and iced tea to our guests. It’s positively broiling out, and no one turns her away. Soon everyone is chatting again, and even Eleanor appears mollified. She takes the seat next to her husband and Edward kisses her forehead. She leans against him in a rare display of affection. Crisis averted. Finally I can exhale, smoothing Elliot’s hair and kissing him on the head. He shrieks with joy. If it weren’t for my son, I think I’d go mad.
“Hi, Sarah.” Caleb pulls a chair up to mine, thwarting any chance of escape.