“Right. He didn’t escape until last year. But you said that there was a secret and it was dangerous.”
He nods. “I don’t know how true it is, though. It was Joel who told me, once he and I became friends again at Fairmont. Remember how I was so afraid that Joel was coming to Fairmont to get back at me for breaking up with him?”
“Yes. I remember,” I reply.
“That wasn’t it at all. Joel was running away from Liberty Farms. He said that Haverly and James, Paisley’s boyfriend, were into making some kind of designer drug and they were selling it at raves and boarding schools and stuff.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Crazy. I guess Haverly is some kind of genius chemist and James helps him every step of the way. His plan was to blackmail Joel into selling his drugs all over the East Coast equestrian circuit. That’s when Joel decided to get as far away as he could from Liberty Farms and came to Fairmont. But California wasn’t far enough away to escape Chris, and pretty soon Chris got in touch with Joel at Fairmont and threatened to ruin his life if he didn’t deal like Chris wanted.”
“Oh my God,” I reply. “No wonder he was afraid of him.”
“So am I. Look at the family he comes from. You cross people like that and you wind up dead,” Riley says.
I notice the tight grip he has on the steering wheel. “Like Joel,” I reply.
Riley doesn’t answer right away. “Maybe. I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe he was threatened. Maybe they did kill him, Vivvie. But it looked like an overdose, so how do we prove that it wasn’t? And we don’t know that it wasn’t just what it looked like.”
“Come on, Riley! You don’t really believe that, do you? Joel had just had an amazing week at championships, he’d learned Melody was going to be his to keep, and then he goes and kills himself. Do you really believe that?” I yell.
“No. I guess I don’t.”
“Me neither. You’ve got a choice to make. Either you can keep your head buried in the sand and let Chris and whoever else is involved get away with all of this, or you can help me prove that they killed him.”
Riley pulls the Jeep to the side of the road and puts it into park. “There’s no choice, I guess. I’ll help.”
I heave a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”
CHAPTER twenty
As Austen and I drive out to Frank’s farm, I press my forehead against the cool window.
“You okay?” Austen says.
I nod. “I kind of wish you, me, and Riley were at the burger place tonight talking about how to handle Chris Haverly instead of going to see my long-lost dad,” I say.
“I get it,” he says.
But as much as I’m filled with dread, it’s nice to have Austen with me—and the week that just finished was actually a pretty good one. Harmony and I are making progress with the coaches. I still dislike Tiffany more than ever, but her lessons are decent, if also full of horrible fake niceness. I like Bernard’s coaching much better, even though he’s quiet and kind of stern. He’s a good teacher and even helped me through an episode where Harmony was spooking easily and stopping repeatedly on the cross-country course. Of course, my lessons with Holden are always amazing—in terms of coaches, he is my comfort zone for sure. I thought I’d be doing lessons with my dad by now, but so far, Holden has always stepped in, so I haven’t had to.
As for Harmony’s eye, things are in a holding pattern. Holden told me that the vet had been out of town and is due back any day. He said that we could use another vet, but that he’d prefer to wait for Dr. Vermisio, who came highly recommended. I agreed to wait.
Austen pulls the car into Frank’s driveway and my stomach clenches into a knot. The first thing I notice is that his farm is really nice. It’s a large, pretty two-story redbrick, and the barn matches. There’s a big pasture out back. As we slow to a stop in the circular drive, I realize that clearly Frank has done all right for himself. Off to the side of the house, I notice a swing set.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say.
Austen squeezes my hand. “You need to. Don’t do this for him. As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t deserve it. Do it for you and do it for your mom. Get your answers and then tell him how this summer is going to go down. If you don’t want to be his daughter, you don’t have to. He hasn’t been a dad to you. If I were you, I wouldn’t feel any obligation.”
“I don’t.”
“You shouldn’t. But the deal is that he’s coaching at Liberty, and from what I’ve seen, I can say that he looks to be a good coach. See him in that light, because that’s all he needs to be to you.”
“Then why do we even need to have this conversation here? Over dinner? Seems simpler to just do it at Liberty and get it over with.”
“He invited us and I think even though he didn’t do the right thing by you and your mom and brother, that doesn’t mean you can’t choose to do the right thing. Coming here is probably the right thing.”
“I hope so.”
“Me too.”
I see a young girl run out of the house, and a petite redheaded woman walk out behind her. They get into a BMW sedan and drive past us. “I’m guessing that’s my stepmother and her daughter. Wonder why they aren’t staying for dinner?”
Austen shrugs.
“Probably for the best,” I say.
We get out of the car and head up the porch steps. Before we even get a chance to knock, Frank opens the door. He’s holding a glass of red wine in his hand and swings the door wide. “Hey, kids, come on in.” He smiles the smile that I remember.
The house smells of cinnamon and apple pie—my guess is potpourri. I can also smell garlic. My dad—think of him as Frank, I chastise myself—was always a good cook. My stomach rumbles.
“I’ve got a pot of spaghetti cooking. That was always one of Vivvie’s favorite dishes.”
I can’t even respond to that. Does he really expect that I’m going to walk in here and back into his life and be his daughter again?
He shows us into the family room, which is light and airy, painted in a soft green and white. The kitchen opens up into the family room and there is a big-screen TV with bookshelves on either side. From where I’m standing on the hardwood floor, I can see photos of Frank and his other family—his new family. I’m a little dizzy, so I sit down on the dark-brown leather sofa. Austen sits next to me.
“Would you like something to drink, guys?” Frank asks, taking a sip of his wine.
“I’ll have some water,” I reply, feeling parched.
“Me too,” Austen adds.
Frank walks into the kitchen and quickly brings us back glasses of water. “Well, dinner is ready. You hungry?”
I tell him that I am, but it’s not really the truth. I want to bolt out of here. We sit down to eat and I can’t help myself. I ask, “Where’s the rest of your family?”
Frank looks down at his plate and then up at me. “We thought it was best for this first dinner if Kimberly and Jade went out for a while.”
I want to ask which one was Kimberly, and which one was Jade. I’m sort of figuring that my half sister’s name is Jade, if I were to be logical about recently popular baby names. I want to ask how old she is, but I bite my tongue. I also want to add that there probably won’t be any more dinners. This one is to set things straight and clear the air. After this, we can be coach and student for the rest of the summer, just like everyone else. But fortunately, I manage to keep my mouth shut. I don’t say anything. I take a bite of the spaghetti and it tastes just like I remember—delicious.
“You’re in college now, huh, Austen?”
“I am, sir. I’m at UC Davis.”
“Vet school, you thinking?”
“Maybe. Not sure yet. I know I want to do something with horses. Not sure if being a vet is my thing,
though. Maybe just want my own place to run.”
Frank nods. “Tough business—the horse business. But, if you run it wisely and you’re a good trainer, you can make a living at it.”
“Looks like you’ve done well,” I say.
“I’ve done all right.”
We eat for a few minutes in what is now nothing less than an awkward silence.
“And how about you, Vivvie, where do you see yourself going to college and what do you plan to do?”
I set my fork down. I can’t take this any longer. I look straight at the man who fathered me, who left us without an explanation, and who didn’t even care enough to check on how we picked up the pieces.
“Can we cut the crap, please?” The silence in the room is intense. “I came here for answers. I came here to find out why you left my mother, your ten-year-old daughter, and a one-year-old baby? I mean, who does that? What kind of man are you? Who are you? All I know is that one day you were my dad bringing me a birthday cake, teaching me how to ride, and driving me to lessons when you could. The next thing I know, you’re gone. Just gone, and now I’m here and you expect me to tell you all about my future as if I’ve just come in from school for the day and we’re having this nice little conversation about what my plans are. Really?”
Austen is staring at me. Frank is too.
“Okay. Okay. You’re right, Vivienne. I owe you a lot, but there is so much more to all of this than just me walking out, and, to be honest, this should be a conversation that involves your mother,” Frank says.
“Please,” I say in disgust. “How is my mom even necessary here? Are you going to try to put blame on her? You left us. We didn’t hear from you. She cried at night for a long time after you left. I know because I was there. You weren’t.”
“I was hoping this could go down some other way, but it’s apparent that your mom hasn’t spoken with you.”
“I’m confused.”
“Austen, maybe you should take a walk, so I can speak with Vivienne alone.”
Austen stands up and I grab his arm. “No! No. He stays with me.” I look up at him. “Please.”
Austen sits back down.
I face Frank again and say, “Okay. Whatever it is, it’s time that I know.”
He sighs heavily, takes a sip from his wine, and, after what feels like eternity, stares into my eyes and says, “I’m not your biological father. I’m not even your brother’s father.”
CHAPTER twenty-one
I’m stunned to the point of speechlessness. Austen isn’t saying anything, either. He’s probably stunned too. I finally say, “What are you talking about? That’s not true.”
He sets down his empty wineglass and pours another one from the bottle on the table. “This was why I’d hoped your mom had talked to you. I’m going to tell you what I know and what happened, from my perspective, seven years ago. You can choose to believe me or not, but it’s true. First off, I want you to know that I’ve always loved you and I have always thought of you as my daughter.”
I’m so sick to my stomach.
“When I met your mom, we fell for each other quickly. It was short and sweet. I met her at a horse show and we clicked. She’d just ended a relationship with someone else.” He takes another sip of his wine.
“She found out she was pregnant soon after we started dating. She didn’t know whom the baby belonged to. I was crazy about her and I told her that I didn’t care whose baby it was. That baby was you. At the time, I was telling the truth. I didn’t care who the father was. But as the years wore on, and I started to travel for work, she would get angry with me and throw it in my face that you weren’t mine. I guess I didn’t live up to her expectations. Things got worse after we found out that I wasn’t able to . . . to contribute—to procreate,” he says, looking away from me.
A wave of nausea passes over me.
“Your brother is from a sperm donor.”
“You’re lying. You have to be lying! And if you loved me so much, if all this is true, how could you just leave?”
As I stare him down, I realize that in my gut, I believe him when he says he’s not my biological father. But my baby brother? It seems impossible that my life could be based on so many lies.
“I’m not perfect, and I built up some resentment toward your mother over the years. I had an affair—with Kimberly. We fell in love. When your mother found out about our affair, and told me that I had no rights to either one of you, I hired an attorney. I fought, but she fought harder, and I guess my fault is that I gave up. I started to feel as if you’d be better off without me, so I left. Then Kimberly and I got married, and we adopted Jade.”
“I need to go,” I say, standing up. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
Frank stands and comes around to my side of the table. He places his large hands on my shoulders. “I love you, Vivienne. You’ve always been my daughter. I want to make things right between us. Can you give me a chance?”
“I think all I can do right now is be your student and have you be my coach. That’s about it. As far as being my parent, if what you say is the truth, I’m not sure I want either you or my mom in my life.” I head to the door with Austen behind me. I’m fighting back tears. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that my mom, who is my confidante, my favorite person in the world, the one I’ve always looked up to, has been keeping all of this from me my entire life! Why would she do this?
We get into the car and drive back to Liberty Farms in silence. Once Austen parks the car, I fall into him and he holds me as I cry. Not only did the man I once thought was really my dad abandon me, but, in so many ways, my mother did something even worse.
CHAPTER twenty-two
Viv, you okay, baby?” Austen asks after I think I’ve cried my brains out and been quiet for a while.
“No.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know. Some of it makes sense, and some of it is so crazy nuts that it makes no sense at all. If he isn’t my dad, then who is? And why did they keep this from me?”
“I don’t know. I know your mom, though, and you mean the world to her. I’m guessing that she never expected to divorce your dad—”
“Frank.”
“Frank. I’m sure that she always figured he’d play the role of being your dad.”
“Then why kick him out like that? I mean, okay, I get that he had an affair and that can cause some issues. But then she could have just divorced him and at least tried to keep things as normal as possible. I had no idea he wasn’t my biological father, so why not just let me have that relationship with him? And, God . . . my brother.”
“I have two theories, if you want to hear them.”
“Of course I do. If you can bring any sort of reason to this, I’ll listen.”
“The first one is that anger makes people do crazy things they don’t feel they can go back on. Maybe your mom reacted strongly at first and now has regrets.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I just have no clue what to think. What’s your other theory?”
“That Frank is lying. I believe, I think, that he’s not your biological dad. But I’m not sure I buy that he still wanted to be your dad after he met Kimberly and moved on by starting a family with her.”
“What?”
“I’m not saying that to hurt you. But, I’ve heard a lot of kids’ stories at college and the thing is, lots of us have screwed up families. If there’s one thing I’ve learned at this point, it’s that, ultimately, a lot of us have selfish parents.”
“What makes you think that applies to Frank?” I ask.
“I’m just saying, maybe your mom knew best when she kicked him out and wouldn’t let him have contact with you. Maybe she sensed he was ready to move on. You were just a little kid, so you wouldn’t have understood. When we’re young we see grown-ups through rose-colored glas
ses. Like I did with my dad.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Because he was my dad, I always brushed off the fact that he had serious issues with depression. As a little kid, I always listened to my mom’s explanations. She was always telling us that he was exhausted from work. But now I know that isn’t true. Funny thing is, my mom could have probably helped my dad if she’d forced him to face his problems. She just enabled the behavior instead. Last time I was home over break, I let both of them have it. I’m over it. I see my parents for who they really are. It isn’t as if they aren’t good people. But they do have faults. The good thing about me saying things directly is that it forced my dad to actually get some help.”
“I had no idea.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, because I never talked about it. I’d been taught to ignore it like my mom did for so long. But I wasn’t really ignoring it. I’d been shoving down the knowledge that he had a problem, and now that I’m an adult, I’m done with that kind of thing. I’m not going to fool myself, or anyone else for that matter, about anything. Maybe you didn’t realize as a kid that Frank was ready to move on from your family. Maybe your mom saw it, though, and did what she could to prevent you from getting hurt.”
I slowly nod. “Well, she couldn’t protect me forever.”
“I think you need to talk with your mom. But go easy on her. Something tells me that she was more in the right than the wrong on this one.”
“I really hope so. What do I do now?”
“You ride. You do what you told him you would. He’s the coach. You’re the student. Keep it on the surface for now.”
“Okay. I’ll ride. But that won’t help me forget all my problems. No matter how things end up with my dad, I still plan to find out what happened to Joel. I talked with Riley. He wants to help us too.”
I fill him in on my most recent conversation with Riley.
Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3) Page 11