Chapter Ten
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Grant chased her as far as the outer hallway, but when she chose the stairs rather than chance him catching up with her, he let her go. Had he really wanted to, he could have grabbed her arm before she made it out of his office, but he’d been disgusted with himself when he’d seen their time together through her eyes. Disgusted enough to wonder if she was right.
What kind of man treats a woman the way he treated her?
Standing in the hallway outside his secretary’s office, Grant came close to retching. I should have told her that average was a hell of a lot better than whatever I am.
I should have said something to ease her pain.
She is ordinary in the most extraordinary way. Grounded. Honest. Strong. All the qualities that make what she said about how she could have been the best thing to ever happen to me absolutely true.
I did all of it wrong, but I want a second chance to get it right.
I should have told her that.
Our time together was a game of sorts, but one that woke me up to what my life is missing.
Why didn’t I say that? That’s the truth she should have heard.
Maybe, then, she wouldn’t have left.
He looked over his shoulder at his brother and sister-in-law waiting for him. The ding of the elevator announced its arrival and when the door opened more of his family poured out. He laughed even though he found no humor in the moment. Even if I had found the words to convince her to stay, what would I have done? Invited her to this shitfest?
Don’t close your heart too firmly, Viviana Sutton. As soon as I sort this out, I’m coming for you.
“Who was that?” Lance asked from the doorway.
“Who was who?” Kenzi asked as she joined them with her husband, Dax, at her side.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Dax supplied.
Ian stepped out of another elevator. “Did I miss something? I came over as quick as I could.”
Helene arrived a moment later. “Hi. Is Andrew here yet? He called and said he and Asher were picking up Emily first, but he wouldn’t tell me what this is about.”
Before Grant had a chance to answer Helene, Ian asked, “Did you find out something?”
“My uncle? Did you find my uncle?” Helene’s voice trembled.
Grant took a deep breath and raised his hands. “Let’s all go into the conference room so we can sit and talk. I don’t want to say anything until everyone is here.”
As they followed him into the conference room, Kenzi said, “It can’t be good or you’d have Mom and Dad here.”
“It’s not good, and it’s not rock-solid provable, but it is something you all need to hear and help me decide what to do next with the information.”
There were several long somber moments in which his siblings moved closer to their partners. The air was heavy with dark anticipation.
When Asher, Emily, and Andrew arrived, Grant closed the door and told everyone to sit. To his surprise even Asher took a seat next to Emily, looking more shaken than Grant had ever seen him. If Grant had to guess, Emily had told him what he needed to hear. She didn’t look much happier than he did, but they were holding hands and that was hopefully a good sign.
Grant cleared his throat. “I found Clarence Stiles a week ago. He’s in Trinity, Canada.” For Helene’s benefit, he added, “He’s safe and apologetic.”
Helene nodded and Andrew put his arm around her shoulder. The grateful look he gave Grant had Grant clearing his throat again. “After my trip to Aruba, I expected him to confirm that Kent’s death had been the result of gross negligence which had sparked a deadly cover-up. Unfortunately, the facts he provided me paint a much uglier picture of what happened.”
“What did he say?” Helene asked quietly.
“There are more victims in his version than heroes. I can’t confirm everything he said, but it does correlate well with our aunt’s journal.”
Collectively, the group seemed to hold their breath.
Grant continued, “The way Stiles tells it, Mom’s sister hired someone to kill one of her babies.”
“What does that mean? One of?” Ian demanded.
“Stiles believes Kenzi was the target, but Kent was killed instead. Stiles only became involved after the murder when he was shown photos of Helene and her parents, and he was threatened with their deaths if he didn’t help in the cover-up.”
Kenzi gasped and huddled closer to her husband, who was taking it all in with deadly calm. “Why would anyone want to kill me?”
Grant looked around the room wishing he could spare his family from this. “I have read and reread Patrice’s journal. I believe she was a sociopath who was jealous of the life our mother made for herself. Mom was happy. Patrice wanted to destroy that. She genuinely hated Mom and us by default. It could have been as simple as not wanting Mom to have a girl or twins. I don’t know.”
His family asked all the same questions he’d asked Stiles. They wanted someone to pay for what had happened, but everyone involved was gone. Except Stiles.
It was a painful, enormous elephant in the room.
Helene’s eyes were brimming with tears. Andrew looked like his heart was breaking along with hers.
Kenzi was half scared, half in shock. Dax was coiled like a cobra in the grass.
Lance and Willa were sad and at a loss for what to say.
Ian was processing.
And Asher—his attention was where it belonged, on his wife and how she was handling the news.
Flexing his shoulders, Grant took on the first hurdle his family faced. “I wanted to hate Stiles, but I don’t know what I would do if I thought someone would hurt any of you. I’d like to think I’d make better choices. Everyone wants to be a hero, but sometimes life doesn’t offer that option. The fact is a lot people lost their lives over this. He took money, yes, but would Helene be with us today if he hadn’t? None of us know the answer to that. So, was he wrong? Yes. But can we let God be the one who punishes him? I think we have to or we continue to breathe life into the evil Patrice brought to our family.”
Helene started to cry against Andrew, and Grant waited for his siblings to respond. Asher shared a look with Emily then leaned across the table and offered his hand to Helene.
Helene placed her hand in his. Andrew covered both with his. One by one, wordlessly, each of his siblings and spouses added their hand to the pile. Then Grant added his to the top and said, “This is what matters: family.”
The group slowly relaxed back into their seats and Ian slapped his hand down on the table. “So, what do we tell Mom?”
Viviana didn’t cry on the way back to her apartment. She refused to. For the sake of her baby, she was determined to remember Grant as a sperm donor. Working for a fertility clinic had introduced her to plenty of women who didn’t think a male presence was a necessary part of a family unit. None of them hated their donors. In fact, they were often grateful there was a system in place that allowed them to be independent mothers. She wasn’t going to remember Grant as an elitist asshole, she would remember him as male, late thirties, tall, brown hair, brown eyes, probably college educated, health history unknown.
She didn’t cry when she called Audrey to tell her that meeting Grant Barrington had been a disappointing experience. Anger and confusion nipped at her, but she shoved both back as she calmly informed Audrey she’d decided not to tell Grant about the baby.
This time Audrey didn’t argue.
She also told her she was moving home earlier than expected. Her job had told her two weeks wasn’t necessary so she wasn’t concerned with that. She did hate leaving Audrey so quickly, but she offered to pay for an extra month’s rent. Audrey wouldn’t hear of it.
“When will you go?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet. I need to talk to my dad before I make any big decisions. Either way, it’s not like I could stay here.”
Always quick-witted, Audrey had joked, “You could, you’d just start paying two thirds of the rent.”
Had Audrey been in the room, Viviana would have hugged her then. Some friendships were fragile and dissolved when schedules or circumstances changed. Audrey had become family. “Unless I have twins.”
“Oh, Lord.” Audrey laughed. “You haven’t been sipping that fertility cocktail have you? Are you having a litter?”
Viviana laughed along, and it felt good. “I’d give you the runt.”
“You would.”
“Yes, I would.”
“I was going to work late tonight, but tell me if you need me.”
“No, I have this. No matter what I decide, I still have to pack.”
“True. Okay. Call me when you know something.”
“I will.”
Viviana wandered from room to room in the apartment, gathering her courage and the right words. She wasn’t a child anymore. It wasn’t like her father could ground her.
She just didn’t want him to be disappointed in her—or her child.
She dialed his number and took a seat at the kitchen table because that’s where she and her father’d had most of their serious talks when she was younger. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, baby, what’s up?”
“I’m pregnant, Dad.”
“Oh, okay.” She recognized his shocked, stalling phrase.
“I’m really early on, so I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but it’s something that has to be considered when I think about moving home.”
Her father cleared his throat. “What about the father?”
She could have lied then, but she wanted a better relationship with her father and that required honesty. “It was nothing serious.” Even though she told herself she was okay with it, saying the words still hurt. She reminded herself harshly that she hadn’t known him long. Whatever feelings she might think she had for him were likely side effects from all the hormones rushing around her body. I refuse to miss a man I never really knew. Yes, meeting him changed my life in more ways than I was prepared for, but I will not be sad if it ends up meaning nothing to him.
“Is he going to be part of the child’s life?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dad. There’s something I need to ask you, though, before I come back.”
“Anything.”
Viviana let out a slow breath before saying, “Were you ever scared?”
“About parenting?” He made a pained sound. “Of course I was. And it doesn’t get easier. You always worry if you’re doing it right.” He was quiet a moment, then added, “When your mother died, I looked into sending you to live with your aunt. I spend all my time with men. I thought you might be better with someone who knew about female things. In the end, I loved you too much to let you go, and I had to hope that was enough.”
Viviana did cry then. Silent tears because her father didn’t need to know what she’d had in her head and heart for too long. “You did a great job, Dad. That’s why I want to raise my baby around you, Dylan, and Connor. I want this baby, and I want it to be around people I know will love it.”
“Then you’re right to come home, baby. Does this mean you want your old room?”
Her time in Boston had helped her find her voice and understand that it was okay to want a place of her own. “No, I still want my own place, but maybe close enough that we could walk over.”
Her father laughed. “Do you remember Henry and Stella Hahn? They’re selling their house. It’s three blocks away, which might be good exercise for you when you get fat.”
“You did not just say that.”
“I did.” He laughed again and a huge smile spread across her face. The one thing construction company owning dads didn’t do was sugar things up.
“Well, Grandpa, three blocks sounds like a long way for someone who will soon have a walker, but we’ll meet you halfway—me, the baby, and my big post pregnancy butt.”
“Hang on, your brothers just came in. Hey, Connor and Dylan, start washing your hands more, Viviana is having a baby.” He groaned. “No, not right this minute. She hasn’t been gone that long. I worry about them, Viv. I really do. We have to find them wives or something. I won’t always be around to explain life to them.”
“You’re not going anywhere for a long, long time, Dad.”
“No, I’m not, baby,” her father assured her quickly.
Viviana hadn’t meant her comment to sound as dramatic as it came out. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. Milestones in her future flashed before her eyes and she wanted him at all of them. He needed to be the one to teach her child to fish. Boy or girl, she wanted her child to enjoy the side of her father she had enjoyed. Suddenly all those memories of sharing bagged lunches on construction sites with her family and their crew, listening to questionably appropriate stories from how they’d all spent their weekend, wasn’t so bad. She wanted her child to know the joy of learning to ride a bike on the shaded sidewalk of the tree-lined street she grew up on. Odd how her view of so much had changed since she’d been away. I guess sometimes you can’t see how good something is until you experience life without it.
What would Grant think of that kind of life? Would he consider his privileged childhood better? If she’d told him about their baby would he have tried to take the child from her, wrongly thinking he could give it a better life? The mere idea of that sent a shiver down her back. It doesn’t matter what he would or wouldn’t think since he’ll never know about this child.