Chapter 25

It was five o’clock when she drove in the driveway at Brighton House, a place that had been her refuge in troublesome times until Richard moved in. She was late and braced herself for the tongue lashing she was about to receive.

Stephanie knew something was wrong when she walked into the kitchen and saw Brooks lying in the corner, his ears back, and curled up tightly, as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Boots was nowhere to be seen. She checked the roast, and it looked fine. There weren’t any plates in the sink or on the table, so she knew Richard and Bradley had not eaten. She thought they must be in the library working. She grabbed her apron and set the table.

She froze when Richard yelled her name from upstairs. She ventured up the steps, barely able to breathe. She paused by the bedroom door and saw him throwing clothes in a suitcase.

“Where the hell were you?” he asked, the streak of cruelty that he hid in public coming out. “I called you three times.”

“I took a long ride on Thunder and lost track of time,” she lied. “Why are you packing? Are you leaving for New York?”

“No. Dad’s in Riverside Hospital,” he said in a stressed voice. “He had a heart catheterization and has five blockages. They’re getting him ready for surgery. Your parents are there, my mother, and the priest. When you didn’t answer your cell phone, I was worried. I should have left a half-hour ago.”

“The priest is there?” she asked in disbelief. Guilt flooded her entire being.

“It’s serious, Stephanie. He might not make it.”

“I’ll get ready to go. It won’t take me long.”

“No. Someone has to be here with your menagerie,” Richard said sarcastically. “Bradley had to fly to New York to assist on a case.”

Richard’s words struck her hard. She loved Parker, and Richard was punishing her—speaking to her in a disrespectful and unkind way, but she tried not to get rattled. “I’m sorry I was late. Can I get you something to eat before you go?”

“No, I can’t eat at a time like this.” His voice was cold and curt.

She told herself she would not fold under the duress she was feeling. “Richard, please let me do something. Don’t shut me out.”

“If you want to do something for me, you can start by staying home instead of gallivanting all over the country.” He threw a pair of socks into the suitcase and turned to her; his tone sharp. “You come with a lot of baggage, Steph—a cat, a dog, a horse, and your housekeeper is a bitch.”

That’s when she lost it. She could feel the heat rising to her neck as she lashed out. “It might help if you would try to get along with Becca. I’m lucky I still have a housekeeper. You complain about every little thing.” Then it occurred to her he might have abused Brooks. “Did you do something to Brooks? He’s in the corner with his ears back.”

“I yelled at him and shoved him away with my foot. He was barking—he saw a rabbit out the window and wanted to chase it. Becca was nowhere to be seen. I can’t cater to your animals. You can’t just take off whenever you want and leave me with all of this. Do you have any idea at all how much money I make and what my payroll is every month? I have to keep the ball rolling. I can’t babysit your animals.”

Stephanie put her hands on her hips and strode up to him. “I don’t need you to baby-sit my animals, and I couldn’t care less how much money you make. Rich or poor, you’re the same man, Richard—an egotistical ass. I want you out of my house.”

Richard feigned shock. “Thanks for the sympathy, Steph. My father is about to have heart surgery and you’re arguing with me. You are such a spoiled brat. I suppose you are going to tell your father that I started it.”

Stephanie glared at him, her green eyes flashing. “Of course, I’m telling my father everything. He needs to know who you really are, and what you do to my animals when I’m away. You’re not the man he thinks you are—”

Richard leaned into her face, cutting her off. “Let me tell you something, ‘Little Miss High and Mighty.’ Your father is not a saint. He cheated on Marguerite with his Mennonite housekeeper. And when he couldn’t stand the guilt, he adopted a baby—you!”

As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, his face told her he wished he could take them away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Stephanie closed her eyes tight. She couldn’t look at him. She wondered how many secrets there were in the family. He knew about Sawyer’s mother, Susan. But he had to be lying about her being adopted. Surely, her grandmother would have told her if she were adopted.

“That’s a lie, Richard. Why in the world would you say such a thing? Isn’t it enough that you want to strip me of my self-esteem? Must you strip me of my name, too?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was angry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry, too, Stephanie said, because I can never forgive you for what you’ve said and done. You’re a monster.”

“Hey! I rarely apologize,” Richard lashed out. “I would expect some respect. Do you even know the meaning of humility?”

“Do you?” Stephanie sniffed as she turned on her heel and dashed out of the room.

Dejected, Stephanie trudged downstairs and dropped on the dog bed with Brooks. She gathered him in her arms. “Never mind him, Brooks, he’s a monster. I let a monster move into the house. Can you ever forgive me?”

Richard heard her as he came bounding down the steps. “A monster? I’m a monster?” he parroted. “That’s another thing. I’m getting tired of losing sleep at night, chasing your boogie man away.”

“You’ve never lost a night’s sleep in your life,” Stephanie huffed. “You leave Bradley to take care of me because your work is more important.”

“Bradley works for me, Steph,” Richard yelled. “He’s my assistant, not your dog-sitter.”

“For God’s sake, go,” Stephanie said in a hateful voice. “And don’t come back.”

For a moment, she thought he looked hurt. She bit her lip. Maybe she’d been too harsh, but she’d wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt her. Saying she was adopted was the worst thing in the world he could have said to her.

It seemed forever until she heard Richard roar away in his BMW, tires screeching. She sighed a long sigh of relief. She was exhausted. Her anger at Richard was taking every ounce of energy in her body.

She knew she could never take back the angry words. If only her grandmother were here. Oh, how she wished they could have one of their ‘talks’—if only—she could hear her sweet voice one more time. Stephanie trudged into her grandmother’s bedroom and threw herself across the bed. She buried her head in the billowy pillow. Her grandmother’s flowery scent still filled the room.

“I’m sorry,” she said, drowning in guilt. “Bradley and Becca were both here when I left. How could I know Parker would have an emergency?” She heaved a sigh, then rambled. “I’m not good at relationships, grandmother. I find them confining. A girl should be free, shouldn’t she? I had to go to Sawyers. I really did. How could I not?”

Brooks came to the bedside and whined.

“Okay, you’re hungry,” she said. “I’m hungry, too.”

Stephanie trudged to the kitchen with Brooks at her side, trying to understand why Richard felt burdened by her animals. It was never a big deal for her father to multitask, walk around the kitchen with the phone to his ear while he let the dog out, and make her a snack when she was little. Their pets were like family members. Her father read the paper every night with their big brown lab, Brandy, at his feet. She had mistakenly believed that Richard would be like her father. She was discovering new and unexpected sides to Richard’s character. And the more she knew, the more she disliked him.

After consoling Brooks, Stephanie ate dinner and had a small glass of wine to calm her. It felt strange being at the house alone in the middle of a crisis. Nothing seemed important at that moment except family, and she had an overwhelming desire to get in the car and drive to the hospital. She was close to packing an overnight bag when Richard called.

“How is Parker?” she asked in a small voice.

“Not good,” Richard said. “They just wheeled him into the operating room. We’re in the waiting room, huddled together—waiting on pins on needles.”

His anger had diminished, but there was still an edge to his voice. His father was gravely ill; she told herself she would make an effort. “I wish I were there. I could call my vet and see if they could board Brooks. Boots is not a problem. She has her cat box, and I can leave extra food out.”

“No. Dad will be heavily sedated after surgery, and wouldn’t know you were here even if you did come. I’m spending the night here. They’re only allowing mother and me in his room. Daniel and Marguerite are going to a hotel across the street. I know you hate hotels.”

She put all her anger aside, her demeanor softening, as she tried to separate contradictory emotions, telling herself that Richard had not meant to be abusive to Brooks. It was only because he was upset about Parker.

“I want to be there for you,” she said. “Isn’t that what it’s all about—being there for each other?” She waited for him to say something, anything, but was met with silence. Maybe he’s waiting for an apology. “I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

Richard dismissed her apology. “Does it take a family crisis for you to realize what a relationship is about?” he asked in an abrasive tone. “It takes two people pulling together. I can’t always be the strong one.”

Stephanie stood biting her lip self-examining herself with scrutiny. She thought she’d been doing her part. The household had been running smoothly when she left. The roast was in the oven. Becca was cleaning. She didn’t know what she could have done differently. Washed in guilt by Richard’s accusatory attitude, Stephanie braced herself for what was to come.

“The last thing Dad said when they wheeled him into the operating room was that he wanted to get it over with, and get well, so he could dance at our wedding, and go on the cruise. I was holding his hand when they were wheeling him into the operating room.”

Stephanie’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh, God. Tell him I love him. I would give anything to be there.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” His voice was curt when he hung up the phone.

“I’m sorry, Richard,” she said to dead space, putting the phone down on the table. The enormity of it all was overwhelming, and for a moment, she wanted to escape. She closed her eyes and whispered, “I wish I were anywhere but here. My life is too complicated.”

She could not know that before the night was over, her wish would come true.