by Dani Collins
A yank of alarm tugged in her chest when she saw Sterling beneath the overhang of her father’s house. She’d hiked across Sanderson’s cow field to ditch him and his ‘get into the truck’ commands, but apparently he wasn’t through stalking her.
“You look like hell.”
She flinched at the grating tone in his voice. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
He watched her take the long route around a rain-spotted puddle, keeping distance between them.
When Lyle came out the front door before she got to it, she faltered.
So did he. He had mottled bruises, a fat lip, and a duffle hooked over his shoulder. He was a model of resentment and escape. He didn’t say anything.
See? No one cared.
Lyle carried on to the driver’s side of his truck where he threw the duffle across to the passenger seat. He paid zero notice of Sterling.
Paige went straight through a puddle to get to Lyle before he could shut his door.
“Why didn’t you tell me who they were for?”
He snapped his head around while gunning his engine, making it roar with warning. His fury was as tangible as the icy rain that weighed her clothes and whitened her fingers. His gaze probed hers, obviously trying to figure out if she was saying what he thought she was saying.
“I just came from talking to Evelyn.” She couldn’t hug herself hard enough. “Why did you have to fix her car?”
He smiled without humor, tone deeply patronizing. “It gave her a reason to park in the driveway.”
Oh, gross. “So it was going on as recently as last year?”
He shrugged. “Dad wasn’t keen on Walt leaving him in charge of the factory so he could run for Mayor. Thought it’d be too much work. He came around.”
She stared at him, waiting for some sign that he felt as appalled as she was, that his love for their father was damaged by this news. That he needed comfort.
Nothing.
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Live and let live, Pidge. Ignore what doesn’t have anything to do with you. That’s what you should have done.”
The rain continued to gather in her hair, trickle down her neck, cold, cold, cold. What could she say? He was right.
“How long have you known?” she asked. “Forever?”
“Pretty much.” He shuffled through the CDs on the bench seat beside him, chose one, and opened the case. “Dad beat the snot out of Golden Boy for trying to get into your pants because he knew Evelyn would never approve. He beat the snot out of me for figuring out why he was coming from old lady Melker’s house when he found you two in the driveway.” He pushed in the CD and Theory of a Deadman filled the cab.
“Did you know Dad owed her his half of the factory as payment for a loan?” My loan. Paige shivered.
For a moment Lyle didn’t seem to hear her over the music. Then he laughed, more of a bark, and shook his head. “So they don’t have to buy it back because Dad owes it to her anyway. And G.B.’s taking over so he winds up with the goods once again. Figures.”
She hadn’t thought that far. Instinctively, she looked over to Sterling, wondering if he’d heard anything.
Everything. He looked murderous.
Lyle twisted to see where she was looking, swore tiredly when he saw Sterling.
He nudged her shoulder hard enough she was forced to take a few steps backward to regain her balance. It created enough space for Lyle to slam his door. With a spray of muddy water against her leg, he spun out of the driveway.
Paige wiped the rain out of her eyes. Gravel crunched as Sterling came up to her.
“I’ll take you into the house. You need to dry off and warm up.”
“No.”
“Damn it, Paige, you want pneumonia?”
“I can get my own towel and cup of tea.” Who else had she ever been able to lean on but herself? She didn’t need him. She squelched her way across the rest of the driveway, toward the front door.
“Look, I’m as blown away as you are. Let’s talk this out.”
“I don’t n-need to talk out anything.” Her jaw was rattling so hard it was difficult to speak. If that stupid Lyle had locked her out— No, thank God, the door was open. She used her body to stop Sterling from following her in.
“I’m not m-mad,” she assured him. She wasn’t. Just wet, tired and done. So very, very done. “I’m relieved not to have a stake in the audit anymore. I can walk away.”
He frowned. “You’re going back to Seattle?”
“Winner takes all, Sterling. Enjoy it.”
She stepped inside and locked him out.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Paige threw a store-bought lasagna from the freezer into the oven, showered, then called her father.
“You and Evelyn Roy?”
Silence, then, “It was a long time ago.”
“Was it?”
Another delicate pause. “It’s complicated.”
“Honestly, Dad, I don’t care who you sleep with. I really don’t. But why did you set me up to audit when that loan you took means they already own the company?”
“See, I kept telling Walt that we should bring you in to work that off, but would he listen?”
“You could have warned me!”
“I have to admit, I’m surprised you found out about it. I figured Evie would take it to her grave.”
“Yeah, well I did find out and now, for the sake of my professional reputation, I’m walking away from trying to arrange a buy out. As far as I’m concerned, the Roys own the company.”
“Pidge,” he chided. “I can still sign the deal Walt brought me.”
“And they’ll pay you or you’ll expose the affair? That’s called blackmail, Dad. It’s against the law.”
Nothing.
“Dad?” she prompted.
“Arlene just came in.” There was a noise of a kiss.
Really? She tipped her head back to grit her teeth at the ceiling.
“You’re sleeping with Anthony’s Auntie Arlene?”
“Not yet. I’m worried about my ticker. But I’m thinking about staying longer.”
Paige looked at the phone, thought about throwing it across the room. Through a window.
“Sure, Dad. Do whatever you want.” You always do. “I’m going back to Seattle after I have everyone over for dinner to tell them you threw away your share in the factory.”
“On you.”
Did he think that wasn’t eating a hole right through her? “Bye, Dad.”
Half an hour later, Zack came in with Britta. They had picked up Paige’s mother on the way. Britta had been in bed since returning from the police station this morning. She had had to be coaxed out of it. She looked like a zombie when she entered, wearing track pants and a baggy sweater, cheeks pale and eyelids chapped.
Paige’s mother, Connie, wore her nightgown and a quilted housecoat. She hadn’t wanted to come either. Routines were important to her and any sort of deviation could throw her off.
“Hey, sport, thanks for picking up Nana,” Paige greeted Zack as he brought up the rear. He was pocketing car keys. “I thought only Pops let you drive?”
“Mom wasn’t up to it. Hey, you could have warned me you told Nana what happened this morning.”
“She give you a hard time?”
“She said it sounded like something you would do.”
Not anymore. Paige was through deflecting bullets for anyone but herself.
As a knock sounded on the door beside her, she added, “Do me a favor and throw the salad into a bowl? It’s in a bag in the fridge.”
He nodded and took the stairs two at a time while she let Olinda in. Cold air swirled around her feet as she did. Paige winced, still not completely warm despite the long shower she’d taken.
Olinda’s mouth was puckered and her nostrils flared. Paige had caught her late enough in the day that she’d already combed out her hair. She had a navy and red kerchief tied around her head.
“I�
��m not happy about this.” Olinda stared at the threshold as if undecided about whether she would enter.
“I’m only going to say what I have to say once. If you want to hear it, come in.”
“I suppose I should be grateful you’re talking to me at all.” Olinda stepped into the house, handing Paige a foil-wrapped French loaf as she turned to discard her wet coat and shoes in the downstairs closet. “What happened to these tiles? They’ve all cracked.”
“Age, I guess. Why wouldn’t I be talking to you?” Paige hugged the warm bread. It smelled yeasty and loaded with garlic. “Oh. Because you told Sterling about Lyle and he fired him?”
Olinda stiffened. “I had to, Paige. I know what you’re like with Lyle and you would have taken forever to sort it out.” She frowned at the ceiling. “Is that the light fixture I put in? It looks so dated.”
Paige rolled her eyes behind Olinda as they climbed the stairs. Her mother was taking the lasagna out of the oven and Britta was setting the table.
“What’s this about, Paige?” Her mother looked at Olinda, never comfortable around her.
Paige took a little breath and ripped the bandage off. “Apparently Dad’s share in the factory was used as collateral for a debt. It belongs to someone else.”
“Who?” Olinda and her mother said together.
“Someone. Else,” Paige pronounced carefully.
Britta lowered herself into a chair. Zack pulled out a chair opposite, sat down and tore open the garlic bread. “Okay if I start?”
“Seriously, Paige. Who?” Olinda demanded.
Paige straightened a fork on one of the places. “It doesn’t matter. Well, maybe it does, but I’m not going to be the one to start the rumors. I can’t imagine it will stay a secret for long. The bottom line is, what it means for us, is...” She raised her hands to indicate the house. “This is it. This is all Dad has, legally, for the bunch of you to fight over when he’s gone. I refuse to be in the middle of this anymore. I’m going back to Seattle. Tonight.”
Olinda made a noise of distress. “We were counting on you to make this work.”
“Well, I don’t have that magic ability,” Paige said. “Mine’s more along the lines of attracting humiliation.”
Everyone stared at her, save Britta, who was fingering the fringe on her placemat.
“Auntie Paige?” Zack murmured.
“Yes, hon, go ahead.” He reached to scoop steaming lasagna onto his plate.
“How soon can he sell it?” Olinda looked around. “It needs to be painted first. And the floors! What happened? It was so beautiful when I left.”
“Eighteen years happened,” Paige said.
“If Pops sells, where will Dad go?” Zack asked around a mouthful of garlic bread, looking at his mother.
“Don’t even think it,” Britta said. “He’s not living with us.”
“He could help with the baby,” Zack argued.
“You’re pregnant?” Paige’s mother screeched.
Britta let her head fall forward until her forehead pressed against her empty plate.
“Even if Lyle wants to get a mortgage and buy the house from Dad, that just gives Dad something to live on. There’s still nothing left as an inheritance,” Paige said bluntly.
Britta snorted. “How’s Lyle going to make mortgage payments without a job?”
“Where is he? I’ll explain so he understands the house has to be sold.” Olinda took a step toward the stairs.
“I don’t know where he went, but he packed before he left,” Paige said.
“His lawyer told him he had to sober up. He’s checking into a clinic, said he’d be gone two weeks,” Zack said.
“Oh.” Paige wondered what it said about her life when the best news of her day was that her brother was checking into rehab.
They all talked a little more, but no one seemed hungry except Zack.
“We haven’t decided what to do about the house,” Olinda said a half hour later. “Surely you want your money, Connie? Grady has to sell it. When is he coming back?”
“He might not,” Paige admitted, not even bothering to wonder where her father thought he would live. With Arlene? He would land on his feet. He always did.
“I don’t care what happens to the house,” Paige’s mother said. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted out of it was my kids.”
Paige gave her mom a half-smile, wishing she’d expressed those sentiments back then, rather than a vitriol of her own brand of inner pain.
“I wish I could see a different way forward, but I don’t,” Paige said, staring without appetite at the food. “You should eat something, Brit.”
Britta took a piece of garlic bread and picked the soft stuff off the crust.
“You can’t wash your hands like this,” Olinda said, eye to eye with Paige.
“Yes, I can,” she said firmly.
“Is this about me telling Sterling?” Olinda glanced out the glass doors to where the translucent light over Sterling’s kitchen sink glowed. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
Britta drew in a sharp breath. “Are you?”
Paige flushed and avoided her best friend’s gaze.
Zack’s fork paused for the first time. “Dad hates that guy.”
Paige hurt in her chest and in her throat. She didn’t want to think about how much that guy hated this family.
“My decision has nothing to do with Sterling.” Except the running like hell part. “It sounds as though he’s going to take charge at the factory. I just want to go back to Seattle.”
“Are you sure you didn’t take a buyout on the sly?” Olinda asked. “And now you’re sneaking off to Seattle, leaving us with nothing?”
“Quite sure. Jesus, Olinda.”
“Olinda, how can you be this suspicious of Paige and still have said all those times that you wanted to remarry into the family?” Britta asked.
“How can you be pregnant with Lyle’s baby after divorcing him years ago?”
Blistering silence, then, “Ready to go, Zack?”
“Um...” Zack stared at the two servings of lasagna that were left.
“Eat it,” Paige said.
“Thanks.” He scraped the pan onto his plate.
“Leaving us to our own devices is something your father would do,” Olinda said.
“It’s something Dad did do.” Paige folded her arms on the table. The weight of the world settled across her shoulders, along with the burden of that stupid loan for tuition that Evelyn had floated.
Olinda sighed and gathered her purse. “Well, at least that’s it for the audit. Silver linings, I suppose. Are you coming back here at all?”
At this point, it seemed like an enormous undertaking to leave. Her energy was draining by the minute. Maybe she was coming down with something. Walking home in the rain had been really dumb.
“It’ll probably be a couple of weeks. I have to play catch-up at work.”
“All right. Drive careful.” Olinda kissed her cheek.
Paige walked Olinda to the top of the stairs and waved at her as she left.
“We’ll go too,” Britta said, standing. “If Godzilla has finished consuming Tokyo?”
“Italy,” Zack corrected, scooping the last bite into his mouth. “Thanks, Auntie Paige. That was really good. I’ll go start the car.”
Paige shook her head over the clean lasagna pan, the empty salad bowl, the missing half-loaf of garlic bread. “That’s frightening.”
“Watch, we’ll get home and he’ll complain he’s hungry.”
“He’s a good kid, you know. You’re a good mother.”
Britta teared up. “Don’t. I’m still not ready.”
But she was going to keep the baby. Paige could tell. It agonized her that Britta would be struggling again. If she could only fix or help—
Habits of a lifetime. Somehow she had to find the line between being a friend and setting boundaries over how much responsibility she took on for those she loved.
&n
bsp; As they stood downstairs waiting for Paige’s mom to come out of the bathroom, Paige asked, “What did Lyle say? After he calmed down, I mean.”
“Not much.” Britta shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’d rather he didn’t have anything to do with this one. Frankly, it’d be nice if this house was sold. Without a job or a house, he’d have to move. Tell me about you and Sterling.”
“Nothing to tell. Just me, motivated by Fogarty hormones, making stupid choices.”
“Hormones don’t motivate Fogartys,” Britta said, breathing a sad laugh that fogged against the light from the porch bulb when she opened the door. “Me? This?” She motioned to her stomach. “This was hormones.” She rolled her shoulder. “For me, anyway. Lyle... He was really sad and needed to feel loved that day. And your dad? Your mom told me once that your grandparents were religious fanatics who used to knock Grady around when he wasn’t pious enough. I figure he has dedicated his life to finding love wherever he can.”
Paige jerked her shoulder. Her grandparents weren’t discussed much. “Yet he always winds up doing something dumb and making people angry. Any love he gets is temporary. Rosie moved out on him. He’s messing around with Anthony’s aunt.”
“See, that’s what I mean! He’s desperate for love, Paige. Why do you think he refused to let you guys live with Connie? ‘Cause kids love their parents no matter what you do to them.”
“That’s true,” Paige murmured. “I do love him. Even though I’ve inherited his same blind desperation for love. Look at me, falling like a ton of bricks for a man who could never really want me. It’s so pathetic.”
“If you slept with Sterling because you love him, that’s something to be proud of. If he doesn’t recognize how lucky he is, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
Oh, the platitudes we tell ourselves.
Her mother came downstairs then, hugged Paige and left with Britta.
~ * ~
An hour later, Paige couldn’t seem to pack for staring into space, justifying her actions to herself. Going back to Seattle was the right thing to do. It was all she had wanted to do for weeks. She was entitled to pursue her own life. Be free of trying to fix her father’s oversights.
She still felt like she was abandoning everyone. That accusation of Olinda’s about taking money on the side stung, probably because it felt so close to the truth.