by Nadia Lee
“Harrisburg. It’s a small town in Ohio. But Nate and I visit her after the festivities. She really doesn’t mind being alone. I think she enjoys the solitude.”
Vanessa turned around to look at Justin. In the dark, she could barely make out the sharp, clean lines of his face. It was amazing how he was hers. She felt like this was a dream and she’d wake up alone without him or the baby.
What kind of a mother would she make?
Her only role models were her own mother and grandmother. Ceinlys loved her children—of this Vanessa had no doubt—but she didn’t always express that affection very well. And she always seemed distracted and discontent, even though she faked happiness well when she knew people were watching. Nobody would’ve known how miserable Ceinlys was by looking at her. And she’d relegated almost every aspect of taking care of Vanessa to the nannies.
Then there was Shirley Pryce. Nobody was meaner or more cutting under the genteel exterior. She’d always made it clear that she considered Ceinlys to be beneath Salazar. Contemptible even.
She had also repeatedly told Vanessa a girl should never try to be too smart, too educated or too outspoken. A woman should strive not to embarrass her man, that was all.
“I don’t blame you for making that mistake,” her grandmother would say. “It’s not your fault. How can you know any better with a mother like Ceinlys?”
And unlike her brothers, Vanessa was the child who often did wrong according to her grandmother. Had Shirley, old but still very sharp, suspected Vanessa might not be Salazar’s?
“What are you thinking?” Justin asked.
“Nothing.” Vanessa wrapped her arms around him, not wanting to spoil their time in the dark by talking about her family. “Nothing at all.”
* * *
Blanche’s place in Harrisburg was a cozy cottage on a five-acre lot, a small section of which was a vegetable and herb garden. The house exterior was made of rough, earth-tone rocks, and the bright sun beat down on a red roof. A couple of apple trees grew in front, and a few long-eared rabbits hopped away as Justin’s car pulled up.
Vanessa took in the house. It wasn’t anything like what she’d pictured. She’d assumed Blanche would live in a mansion almost as grand as Barron’s in Houston. She could certainly afford one. But Harrisburg wasn’t even conveniently located. Vanessa and Justin had driven their rental for two hours after landing along lonely, deserted roads, some of which apparently didn’t even have names.
“Why here?” Vanessa asked. “She could live anywhere she wants.”
“To make sure it won’t be easy for Barron to bug her or summon her.” Justin put a hand on the small of her back. “Just a little rebellion against him for taking me from her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She wanted to keep me at home, but Barron wanted me with him, so he could ‘groom’ me.”
“Not many women would object to their son inheriting twenty-five billion dollars.”
“Mom’s not cut from the usual cloth.” Justin’s hand tightened behind her. “Watch your step.”
“I’m fine.” The path leading to the house was made of smooth pebbles, but Vanessa was an expert stiletto walker.
The aroma of bubbling soup and fresh biscuits hit her the moment Justin opened the heavy wooden door, and she had to smile at her own preconceptions. She’d assumed the place would be like her family’s mansion with its cool, wax- and cleanser-scented air.
The interior was all warm earth-tone tiles and rugs and old wood with off-white stucco walls. A painting in the living room featured a view of the ocean; a sunset spilled orange over the water and palm trees swayed in the breeze. It somehow didn’t quite seem to go with the rest of the place.
Justin noticed her gaze. “That’s the place where she met my dad,” he said. “She was working at a resort there.”
Blanche came out of the open kitchen, her sneakers quiet. Stove heat had turned her cheeks rosy. Her hair spread out around her face like a fluffy silver cloud. She wasn’t wearing a single piece of jewelry, but her dark eyes sparkled. She wore a pink long-sleeve shirt and blue jeans, all simple cotton. The white and green apron on her read Home, Sweet Home in a fire-truck red.
“Welcome!” she said, extending her arms.
“Mom!” Justin gave her a tight hug, his large frame enfolding Blanche’s much smaller one.
Vanessa stood behind him, her hands clasped. Justin had put on a casual shirt and khakis, but she’d chosen a discreet black designer dress, a brand new pair of stilettos and the pink pearls Ceinlys had given her when she’d graduated from Stanford Law. Suddenly she felt overdressed and ridiculous—despite being in a favorite outfit that had never failed to boost her confidence. Still, she pasted on a polite smile.
“Introduce me to your wife,” Blanche said, finally pulling away after a moment.
“Mom, Vanessa. Vanessa, Mom.”
“How do you do?” Vanessa said in her smoothest debutante voice. Thank god her grandmother had insisted on her completing an etiquette course. At that time she’d thought it was the silliest thing ever, but now she clung to every lesson.
“No need to be so formal, my dear.” Blanche clasped Vanessa’s hands. “That’s what Barron expects, not me. I’m just family.” She gestured at the dining table. “Please, sit. I know it was a long drive from the airport. Do you want some soup? Or if you prefer, I have whole wheat bread and biscuits with organic butter.”
“Soup and bread sounds lovely.” Vanessa sat at the table.
“What about lamb?” Justin asked, taking a seat next to her
“That’s for dinner, silly boy.”
Blanche served everyone. The soup was homey, with a light broth, had delicious vegetables and beans, and was topped with shredded cheese.
“It’s too bad you have to leave tomorrow,” Blanche said.
“Work. What can I say?” Justin popped half a biscuit into his mouth. “Barron’s basically retired, even though he won’t formally announce it.”
“That’s so like him. Thank heavens he doesn’t bother me with family events anymore.”
“He can’t make you travel.”
“Especially since I don’t care about his money.” Blanche turned to Vanessa. “Justin can tell you, I value my privacy now. Too old to be gallivanting around. I heard you’re pregnant. If anything’s not to your liking, I can always get you something else.”
“That won’t be necessary. This is perfect.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Vanessa.” Blanche beamed. “Never thought Justin would marry, what with him unable to date any girl for long.”
Vanessa forced a smile, then busied herself with eating. If Blanche only knew about their dating history, she wouldn’t be as kind. She’d believe Vanessa had used her son, stringing him along. Having grown up watching her grandmother, she knew how things were perceived, especially by mothers-in-law.
But at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder if Blanche would be different from Shirley Pryce, who would have died rather than be seen in a kitchen…or wearing an apron.
As the day went on, it became obvious that Justin adored his mother. While Vanessa rested on the living room sofa—having been practically ordered to do so—he went to the kitchen to help Blanche with cooking and clean-up. They laughed often, their voices light.
Blanche must be a great mother. All Vanessa’s brothers—except possibly Dane—loved Ceinlys, but their interactions with her were always subdued, with a hint of strain. If they laughed once, it was a good time. Twice? Well, bring out the champagne.
The only child-rearing method Vanessa knew was handing kids off to nannies. Given how affectionately Blanche had treated Justin in just the few hours they’d been together that afternoon, Vanessa doubted that would be acceptable.
It was unfortunate there was no bachelor’s degree in child rearing. Vanessa had hoped she could bumble along and figure things out without anybody judging her. But she’d thought wrong. Justin’s mother was the standard by which h
e would judge her. And Vanessa didn’t think she was going to measure up.
* * *
“I like her,” Blanche announced, while she watched Justin scrub the pan she’d used for the lamb chops. “She’s smart…quiet, too. Thought she’d be more vivacious.”
Justin looked at her. “Why?”
“Never known an attorney who didn’t like to talk” She mused while munching on a stick of celery. “Maybe it’s the pregnancy. I know how tired I was when I was expecting. No wonder she went to bed early.”
“Must be,” Justin agreed, bending to his work.
The dinner had been great—his mother’s lamb chops were fabulous as usual—but Vanessa hadn’t said or eaten much. Thankfully he was able to fill the silence with stories about their acquaintances and friends and family. Maybe Vanessa was just nervous. Understandable—if his experience with family dinners had been anything like hers, he would’ve been nervous too. And then there was the unfinished business with Peggy. It had to be weighing on Vanessa’s mind, especially after Salazar’s bombshell announcement. Fortunately, she was taking another nap on the living room couch.
He rinsed the pan and dried it. Blanche was old and frail now, but she didn’t want to have a housekeeper around even though he’d offered to pay for one.
“So tell me about Ceinlys,” Blanche said, starting the coffee machine. It gurgled. “I didn’t want to ask right in front of Vanessa, but is she really divorcing Salazar?”
“Yes. It’s true.”
“My land. I can’t believe it. They were meant to be together forever, even with all those mistresses of his.”
“Everyone thought that.”
“What changed?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. Iain might know, but he didn’t say.”
“Well, no need to probe. I just hope it’s not too stressful for the kids, especially your lady out there. Stress is terrible for pregnant women. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but be extra gentle with her. Pregnancy hormones are brutal.” Blanche frowned. “I hope she can take some decent time off work. Lawyers work too much.”
“Don’t worry. She’s on a special case at the firm.”
“Really?” Blanche cocked her head, and Justin cursed inwardly. He never had been able to put anything past his mother. “Would that have anything to do with you?”
“Well.” Justin cleared his throat. “It might.”
“Justin. Does she know?”
“No, and she doesn’t need to. It’s not like it’s going to affect her career there. This was during the time she wanted to keep our relationship quiet and secretive.”
“Weren’t you already married at that point?”
“Yes, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want anyone to know we were a couple.”
“How very odd,” Blanche spoke slowly. “Did she tell you why?”
“Something about wanting a partnership on her own merit, not based on who she’s married to.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Your Aunt Annabella is a lawyer, and it took her thirteen years to make partner, and you know how smart she is.”
Justin nodded. Not just smart, Annabella had graduated from Yale Law with honors.
“Vanessa’s a bit too young—she’s been with the firm for, what, about ten years?”
“Yeah.”
“The chances of her getting a partnership are very slim, and soon everyone will know she’s pregnant anyway.” Blanche tapped neatly trimmed nails on the Formica counter. “I’m sure there’s another reason.”
A frown tightened his forehead. He’d wondered, but he’d chosen to accept Vanessa’s decision at face value. But his mother was right. “Why would a woman want to keep something like that a secret?”
Blanche poured herself a cup of strong coffee, black, no sugar. She didn’t offer any to Justin; he never drank it late in the evening. “Maybe to surprise somebody? Or maybe because you don’t expect it to last? I didn’t tell my parents about your father until he actually proposed. I couldn’t believe he’d want to marry a girl from a lower middle class family when he could have had any woman he wanted.”
“But we’re marr—” Even as the words left his lips, it hit him. In Vanessa’s experience, marriage didn’t mean commitment and respect and love. It was a peculiar sort of trap that forced two people to stay with each other when they might be happier apart.
But she can’t possibly think our future will resemble her parents’. He’d never done anything to make her believe he’d be like Salazar.
Blanche put a hand on Justin’s sleeve. “Sometimes a woman needs reassurance. Maybe you should tell her how you feel.”
“How did you know?”
“Oh, a mother’s intuition. You’re too proud, and as much as you want to believe you’re not like Barron, you are very much like him from time to time. You’re waiting for her to tell you first, aren’t you?” Blanche took a slow sip of her coffee, her eyes on his. “A successful relationship is not like a business negotiation. Sometimes you have to make the first move, show your cards.”
Justin nodded, more than a little perturbed by her observation. Was he really treating the marriage like a business arrangement? And more importantly, did Vanessa really expect it to fall apart? Justin was a firm believer in the power of both positive and negative thinking, of self-fulfilling prophecies, and it took more than one person to make a marriage work.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It definitely took more than one to make a marriage work.
Justin feigned an interest in the latest financial reports from Sterling & Wilson as they flew back to L.A. the next day, but he knew something was wrong. Vanessa had been asleep by the time he’d returned to their bedroom the night before, and since then she’d been aloof, maintaining a physical distance from him.
Now she was sitting across from him, eyes closed, arms crossed and chin down. But given the tension in her posture, he knew she wasn’t sleeping.
At first he’d assumed she was just tired from the trip…and of course the pregnancy. She could be moody from time and time, and it wasn’t a big deal. But she was shutting him out, and that he didn’t care for.
“Let’s have it. What are you upset about?” he asked.
She didn’t open her eyes. “Not upset. Trying to sleep.”
“You slept for over ten hours last night.”
“Pregnant women sleep a lot.”
“Not you. You never slept much anyway.”
She sighed and cracked one eye open. “Pregnancy changes you. Besides, it’s not like I have tons of work to do, so it’s better I figure out something else to occupy my time.” Her tone held an edge.
“If you’re bored, maybe you can do some volunteering. Pro bono work or...”
“Can’t take on anything like that. You never know when Highsmith will decide he needs me for something. And who knows? My current client might just get sued and actually need some genuine, honest-to-god legal help.” She got up. “I think I’m going to lie down. I have a headache.”
Justin watched her slip into the stateroom and reined in his temper. It would be ridiculous for him to confront her right now. Besides she might really not be feeling well. She was paler than usual, her manner subdued.
He checked his email and raised an eyebrow when he saw one from Pattington. The man had come through with information about Peggy Teeter.
Everything checks out. She has a mother in a cancer center. Lung cancer—bad, but treatable. Her father was a poet, and he lived in L.A. for two years when he was in his thirties. Details in the report (attached).
Justin scanned the report Pattington had sent. So Peggy really was Vanessa’s half-sister.
Glancing at the closed door to the bedroom, he dialed Peggy’s number.
“Hello?” came a tentative voice.
“Peggy Teeter?”
“Yes...”
“This is Justin Sterling, Vanessa Pryce’s husband. I
want to arrange to have your mother’s cancer treatment taken care of.”
“Oh. Hi. I…didn’t realize she’d involve you.”
Justin frowned. What had she thought Vanessa would do? Take care of the matter on her own? He was her husband. “Can you send the details to my assistant?” He gave her the email address.
“Of course.” There was a pause. “Would you mind if we meet in person?”
Justin considered. “I have some time this afternoon, but it’ll have to be quick.”
“Sure. Do you mind if I pick the time and place? I’m returning to Provo to check up on my mother later today.”
“That’s fine.”
“Can I text you at this number?”
“Use this one.” Justin rattled off the public mobile number that he used with his executives and workers. “I’ll bring Vanessa as well.”
“No, please don’t. Thanks, Justin.” She hung up.
* * *
As soon as they arrived back at the condo, Vanessa changed into a casual dress and went out again. She didn’t think she could talk to Justin without losing control. The conversation between him and his mother echoed in her head. She’d overheard it from the living room; when he had emerged from the kitchen she’d pretended to be asleep instead of confronting him in his mother’s home. And now the things he’d said were simmering in her mind like a witches’ brew.
She spotted Felix the moment she entered the Starbucks near the office. She waved at him while standing in line to get a decaf latte, then went over to his table.
“What’s up? Hope it’s not an emergency,” he said. “I was surprised to get your call.”
“It’s not. You look good.” And he did, sitting there in his conservative, perfect-for-the-office suit. Bitterness spread in her heart. Unlike her, he had a career of his own, without anybody meddling in it.
“Can’t believe you’re still in town. I thought you’d be in Acapulco or somewhere by now.”
She forced a laugh. “Just because I have two weeks off doesn’t mean Justin does.” She leaned forward. “Hey, I know you’re busy, but I need to talk to you about something you said.”
He frowned. “Okay.”