by Grady, D. R.
“What do you want, Chrissy?” It was difficult to keep his tone neutral.
“I just wanted to see you.” Her voice was beautifully modulated, as though she had matched it to her surroundings.
“Why?”
Not in the least intimidated by his demeanor, she took a dainty step toward him.
“Don’t you miss me at all, Rylan?” She tilted her head, and the lamplight caught in her hair. In the past the effect would have dazzled him, now it did nothing.
“No, I don’t.” He had no reason to hurt her, and didn’t want to do so, but being blunt was perhaps the only way to deal with the Chrissys of this world.
She gasped. Tears welled in her eyes. Her hand fluttered to her chest. “How can you be so cruel?”
“I’m not being cruel.” He stifled his seething impatience. “I’m over you Chrissy, and have been since we broke up. I don’t love you. When I realized that, the logical next step was to break off our relationship. I haven’t been pining for you. I’m sorry if this hurts you, but it is true.”
One perfect tear slipped from the corner of her eye. He wondered how she managed it. Could you take classes to learn this sort of manipulation? Or did it just come naturally?
“You don’t mean that.” There was a perfect note of pleading in her voice.
“Yes, I do.” He made certain there was absolute truth in his tone. He glanced at his watch. “You’re going to make me late for my... appointment.”
He didn’t want her to know he had a date. Something told him offering such information would be a bad idea.
“I’m sorry.” Her whisper was probably supposed to pierce his soul. All he cared about though was the friendly, sincere welcome in Nina’s eyes.
“So am I, Chrissy, now if you don’t mind...” He turned and led the way to the front door. “I’m certain you have better things to do.”
She left, reluctantly and with a faint air of surprise. Had she come here expecting him to sweep her off her feet and declare the end of their engagement had all been a mistake?
Rylan snorted as he shut the door and made for the stairs. Ending their relationship was the brightest thing he’d done this decade. It would have been a lot wiser of him to not have fallen under her spell in the first place, but you learned and moved on.
He hurried up the stairs, taking them three at a time, and made for the shower. Chrissy’s visit had put him behind schedule. Now he needed to hurry. Thankfully, he had already thought about this during a really boring accounting meeting.
Chapter 23
Trixi sat down at her table, but it seemed foreign. Alien—not familiar at all. Perhaps that’s what grief did. The world moved on without stopping to take notice of the tragic loss she had experienced.
The loss had occurred nearly fifteen years ago, true. But she couldn’t process it then. Perhaps she would be in a different place in life if she had grieved fifteen years ago.
She had lost her mother and therefore this huge house became hers. She was far too young to own a house, any house, much less this one in all its splendor. Fortunately, since she had been underage, it remained in the care of her father. Some far seeing ancestress had understood someone so young couldn’t possibly resume control of the estate while a youth so had decreed the heir needed to take possession by her thirtieth birthday. Trixi’s was fast approaching.
She had been living here for nearly three years, working and finishing her schooling. Now with her father moved out, it made her the sole owner of the estate. A daunting thought.
Not as daunting as losing her mother, but enough to turn any sane woman into a quivering mass of jelly. Yet glancing at her two dinner companions helped strengthen her. Both Gran and Mark were strong enough to support her.
Her thoughts helped to stiffen her spine and face the unknown future with, if not conviction, at least some resolve. Only a few weeks ago she had feared living alone. Now she had two roommates. One of whom she had loved all her life and the other who she could certainly love the rest of her life...
“Trixi, pass the salt, please,” Gran requested.
Trixi complied.
“This needs more salt, so feel free to add it.” Gran slid the shaker to Mark. He added some before handing it to her. Trixi hadn’t even tasted the meal yet. It was a pity since Gran had labored over it.
“Are you adjusting okay to doing some cooking?” Trixi asked. Gran hadn’t cooked her own meals for as long as Trixi could remember.
“I’m fine. I would hate to do it all the time. Fortunately, you enjoy cooking and do most of it, so I’ll just make whatever I’m hungry for. This way I get a say in what is made and I do appreciate that.”
Nodding, Trixi forked up a taste of the casserole Gran prepared. “You certainly took to it right away.”
“Your grandfather and I moved into our estate as newlyweds. The money we had was poured into the house in those days so there was nothing left to hire a cook. It meant I had to do it, even after your father came along.” Gran didn’t sound like she minded.
“Did you miss it when you could afford a cook?”
“No. By then your father was a handful and we got Miriam, so I was fully occupied with both children. On top of them I also lost several babies.”
Trixi set her fork down. Gran’s generation didn’t mention this sort of thing. Certainly not in front of a man and there was no doubt Mark was a man.
He laid his own fork on his plate. “Did your doctor explain why women lose babies?”
With a shake of her regal head, Gran said, “We all knew it just happened that way sometimes.”
“Your doctor never explained there are medical reasons for miscarriages?”
Mark was in full doctor mode, so Trixi relaxed. It’s probably why Gran felt free to mention something so personal. She was well aware Mark was a doctor and... oh.
This was likely her way of convincing Mark to talk about what had happened this morning. Gran could sympathize with him because she had some failures in her career as a mother. Grief was a part of living, a part of being human.
Between them, she and Mark explained some of the reasons for miscarriage and in doing so, Gran now comprehended the medical reasons. Most mothers believed they were to blame for losing their baby, but in fact, the chromosomes were the cause. There were so many things that could go wrong on a cellular level; it was amazing there were so many people on the planet.
Once the conversation wound down, and it didn’t last long, because it was evident Gran wasn’t completely comfortable, Gran finally turned to Mark. “You lost a patient today?”
His lips firmed and his nod was brisk.
“You do know it’s not uncommon, correct?”
“It is for me,” he said in a tight voice.
“Of course it is. But when it’s someone’s turn to go there isn’t a thing anyone else can do. Their time is up and they die.” Gran’s tone was matter-of-fact so there was no way Mark could take offense.
Maybe Gran didn’t know much about brain surgery, but she did know plenty about loss.
“How did you work through losing your babies?” Mark asked.
“You have to take time to grieve. Allow yourself time. Understand this was beyond your power. That was the hardest thing for me.” Gran leaned back in her chair, gaze fixed on the saltshaker. “I had to realize this wasn’t my decision to make. I wanted those children with every part of my being. In the end, I was only able to carry one baby to full term.”
Tears welled in Trixi’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine wanting children so badly and then losing so many. The only thing harder would be to bring them into the world and then lose them in infancy or later. The pain Gran had gone through showed Trixi her own life hadn’t been so difficult. Sure, she was alone, but her trials and tribulations hadn’t been as agonizing as Gran experienced.
“When did you stop having miscarriages?” she asked.
“I think my body wore out by the time I reached my mid-thirties since I stopped
getting pregnant then. In a way it was a blessing because I couldn’t bear burying any more children. By then your dad was about ten and Miriam nearly seven, and I had a wonderful family.”
“What classifies as wonderful?” Trixi had her own ideas, but hearing someone else’s definition might be beneficial.
“I had a loving, amazing husband. And a son and daughter I adored who were healthy and happy. I was lucky, and I knew it.”
Maybe all that wasn’t Trixi’s lot, but she was thankful to know these details about her grandmother. A woman who had helped to shape her life through the years, a rock she clung to after her mother died so unexpectedly.
Counting one’s blessings appeared to be the balm all three of them needed because when they all picked up their forks again, it was to renewed appetites and a much easier atmosphere. Their conversation turned to more banal, but necessary conversation and the meal flowed on.
Trixi couldn’t admit to being famished, but she ate enough. Mark and Gran did the same. They didn’t make huge inroads on the casserole, despite its tastiness.
“We’ll have a second meal for later in the week.” They could reheat this and it would probably be even better the second time around.
“I like casseroles,” Mark agreed.
She nodded and the three of them worked contentedly together to clear the table. Mark loaded the dishwasher, while she put away the food, and Gran wiped down the table and countertops. It was nice to work together.
Somehow, it helped pierce through the sorrow hanging in the air around them.
In her car, Chrissy glared at the house in front of her. This should have been hers. It was supposed to be hers. Rylan had forgotten to mention he was next in line for this house while they dated, and stupid her, she hadn’t thought to ask.
His previous house had been worthy of her, but this place was even more so. Plenty spacious for the type of entertaining she planned on becoming known for, and stuffed to the rafters with antiques and gorgeous artwork, this estate shot beyond even her dreams.
So what if she had to take Rylan Duvall along with the house? The house still belonged to her. It cried out to her to come and give it the face-lift and glamour it so very much deserved. She could make this manor a showplace worthy of any fine estate in the country, if not the world.
How Rylan had been able to resist her was stupefying. He should have fallen into her hand like all the times before. Really, he was a trial and she would take it out on him after they were married. But right now she needed to focus on forcing his hand since he wasn’t going to fall into her palm like he should.
While she sat and stewed, he emerged from the house. There was a happy spring in his step as he hurried down the stairs toward his very nice car. As he slid into the seat, her eyes narrowed. His outfit didn’t look like one a businessman would wear to an “appointment.” It didn’t look remotely businesslike, in fact.
It was date wear. The flowers he set on the seat beside him also weren’t what one took to a business meeting. He stowed another package on the floor.
Her body temperature rose as her jaw hardened to the point of pain.
He had lied to her. This wasn’t about business, at least nothing to do with his company. It was personal. Dear Rylan hadn’t wanted her to know he was cheating on her.
The car took off out of his driveway so she shoved hers into gear and followed him at a discreet distance. He threaded through some side streets and a few alleys before entering a quiet neighborhood. The houses were all on the modest side, although they were well cared for.
Rylan pulled into the driveway of one a quarter of the way down the street. It sported a profusion of fall flowers and neatly trimmed shrubs. It could have belonged to her grandmother. The place was neat, tidy, small, and boring.
It didn’t begin to compare to Rylan’s new estate.
The car door sprang open and he slid out with eagerness, looking years younger. His jaunty walk dropped at least a decade off his age. He had never looked like that with her.
She stared hard at the door and gasped, then gaped when it opened. That woman isn’t even close to my league. For one, the other woman looked her age. While a few years younger than Rylan, she wasn’t much younger.
There weren’t any streaks of gray in the neat dark hair, but there were lines around her eyes and mouth. Even her figure, while okay, wasn’t like Chrissy’s. It was trim and athletic perhaps, but not at all what Chrissy classified as attractive.
How could Rylan find this woman more attractive than me?
Her stomach turned as Rylan leaned forward and kissed the woman on the lips. The other woman’s cheeks reddened and Chrissy saw some red of her own.
How dare he?
Despite that embarrassing police interrogation she had endured the other day... Chrissy sniffed in disdain as resolve stiffened her spine. This changed everything. The stakes had just been raised.
When Trixi excused herself after they finished the dishes, Mark turned to Gran. That lady had something on her mind and he was interested in hearing what it was. They heard Trixi’s light footsteps patter up the staircase and then disappear into her room.
“Again, thank you for what you did for Trixi,” Gran said. “I’m relieved she’s finally cried.”
“She never cried?”
“We’ve doubted it all these years. She could have in her room, and we didn’t know it, but Rylan has been concerned about her.”
A sense of satisfaction swirled through him at the thought that Trixi had cried with him. In his arms. Somehow, it seemed right to him. “I’m glad.”
She patted his arm. “So am I. I don’t believe you understand the significance of this yet, but you will.”
After her cryptic remark, she took herself off to her rooms. And left him staring after her, wondering what on earth she was talking about. He understood the significance of Trixi crying with him.
Or am I missing the entire point?
Since he couldn’t answer this perplexing question, no matter how hard he tried, Mark finally wandered into his study. He had a stack of paperwork to comb through and it wasn’t getting done with him standing in the middle of the kitchen.
He took away two things from this evening. The first was Gran and Trixi Duvall both trusted him and he trusted them in turn.
The second was he was quieter and more content this evening than he had ever been after losing a patient. The difference being that tonight he had been able to talk about it with the people at home who were willing to discuss the tragedy with him. He was settled in his own mind.
A priceless gift.
It showed him coming home, despite being a hard call, had been the best decision of his life.
“I think you’re early,” Nina said as she invited him inside. The smile in her voice and on her exquisite face welcomed him.
“I am? I was afraid I’d be late.”
She accepted the flowers with happy delight. “Oh, Rylan, they’re beautiful.” Nina gushed as though he had given her the crown jewels. He wanted to.
“You’re welcome.” He grinned when she blushed again.
“Oh, where are my manners?” Her eyelashes cast intriguing shadows across her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” Not able to resist, he traced the pattern. Then he remembered the other package. “This is for supper.”
She peeked into the grocery bag and started laughing. “You remembered my favorite tea.”
“Yes, because it’s my favorite as well.”
They shared a smile and a feeling of contentment burst through him. It must have shown on his face because she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “This is nice.”
He slid his hand over hers. “Yes.”
When they sat down to eat, he was impressed. “You went to a lot of trouble.”
“No, I didn’t. I put this all into different slow cookers and went off to work. When I got home, most of it was finished.” A small dimple at the corner of her mouth winked a
t him. “It just takes a little planning.”
“I’m glad.” The bubbly feeling inside was nice and he appreciated the sense of contentment again. The food was spectacular, on par with Trixi or his staff’s cooking. The beef was melt-in-your-mouth tender and the vegetables were done to perfection. She had roasted the potatoes with some sort of savory rub and the flavors burst on his tongue.
“I had a visit from Katy today.” Nina mentioned this casually, partway through the meal.
“Oh?” A sneaking suspicion sprouted.
Her dimple peeked at him again. “Oh yes. She came by with some papers I needed but she lingered to chat.”
He couldn’t stop an escaping chuckle. “What did my daughter want to ‘chat’ about?”
“Would you believe... us?”
This time he laughed outright. “You are aware they’ve taken to calling often to pump me for details, right?”
“Oh my. I do adore your daughters, and have since meeting them, but I’m not certain how to answer their questions.”
“You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.”
She shot him an incredulous look. “You’re joking, of course.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You can tell them to mind their own business. I have to be professional.”
He loved the smile twittering around her lips. “You can tell them to mind their own business. It’s okay. They won’t take offense.”
Nina bit her lip. “I’m glad to hear this. Of course, your girls will just go underground to find out what they want to know.”
“Yes they will,” he declared. Nina already knew them pretty well. “The brats.” Even he heard the underlying affection in his voice.
“I liked both of them from the start.”
Her smile was so beautiful he caught his breath. “Thank you. I love them.”
“That’s how I feel about my son.” Her eyes drifted to a framed portrait of a strong looking young man in a military dress uniform.