A Family Affair: Summer: Truth in Lies, Book 3 (14 page)

“D
o you want time to digest what you’ve heard?” Nate asked, his voice warm and steady. “We can finish this later.”

Her husband was trying to protect
her, but the only protection lay in knowing the truth, or the truth as Gloria Blacksworth had seen it. That could prove useful, even powerful for whatever other unknowns her mother had left behind.

“
No, go ahead.”

He picked up the next letter and began to read.

Dear Ellie:

I wish you were here to share in my joy. Christine Elizabeth is all that is innocent and precious in this world. I have never known such happiness. These past several months have been difficult, but my new daughter has given me reason to believe once again in the goodness of mankind. She is a true Blacksworth from the shiny darkness of her hair to the crystal blueness of her eyes. I am truly blessed and at peace.

Love,

Charlie

Had her father been truly pleased with her or more relieved she looked like a Blacksworth?

I’m happy, Dad, truly happy. If I’ve learned nothing else from yours and Mother’s marriage, it’s that relationships are like gardens. They require constant tending and vigilance to prevent weeds, encourage growth, and promote a bountiful harvest. I love you, Dad. I love you.

Nate set the letter aside and reached for the final one.

Dear Charles:

I miss you so. The wedding plans are progressing well, with my mother already dropping hints about a one-year anniversary baby and your father agreeing that the Blacksworth lineage must continue posthaste. I simply give them a vague smile and tell them there will be babies in due time. Your brother insists on commenting, even though he knows I’m uncomfortable with the personal nature of the subject. I think that’s why he does it. Well. I will not let him ruin my thoughts of you.

I know this trip was necessary, but I miss you so. Thirteen more days until you hold me in your arms and I can tell you how much I love you.

Until then, my darling,

Gloria

Christine swiped a hand across her face and
blinked hard. The woman in this letter was filled with love and hope and excitement, but nothing about her resembled the Gloria Blacksworth Christine had known. Nate folded the letter and stroked her back. “You should read the book,” he said, his lips brushing her hair. “It might help settle things for you.”

She sighed, wrapped her arms around his waist
, and murmured, “Or make things worse. It could just confuse what I thought I finally figured out. I’m not ready for that, maybe I’ll never be ready. Besides, how do I even know she didn’t write in the book after she learned she was dying?”

He was silent for a few seconds before he said, “I thought of that.”

“That’s a horrible thing to think about my own mother, isn’t it?”

“It’s worse if it’s true.” He paused. “Gloria wasn’t your average mother, let’s not forget that. She can still pull strings and mess up lives, even from the grave.”

“I know.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you.” Nate would support her decision whatever it was. There was great comfort in that, and it gave her courage to do what she needed to, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. “I guess we’re going to Chicago.”

“
I figured as much. Just say when, so Jack can take over at the shop.”

She eased away so she could look at his face. “You really don’t mind?” Nate didn’t need to tell her he had an aversion to Chicago and her past life. He’d never been there and had shown no interest in changing that, despite the open invitations from Uncle Harry.

“Of course I mind.” His dark gaze burned into her. “But you’re my wife and we’re in this together.”

“And Lily?”

His lips twitched. “I have no idea why your mother would suggest Lily visit the house where you grew up, but there’s no way that girl is letting us out of the driveway without her.”

She leaned up and kissed him. “Thank you. I can’t imagine life without you.”

He cupped her chin with his big hand and smiled. “Then don’t.”

“Wow! Is this where you lived?” Lily had never seen a house this big in real life. It was way bigger and fancier than Mrs. Pendergrass’s place. “Just you, Aunt Gloria
, and Dad?”

Christine looked at Nate who made that frown face when he didn’t like something and said, “Yes. I lived here, and it was only the three of us.”
Nate pulled up the winding driveway and parked in front of the four-car garage, still wearing that frown face.

“You had four cars?” Her sister cleared her throat and didn’t answer. Why was her face getting all pink? “Christine? How many cars did you have?”

Nate turned to Lily and said in a not-happy voice, “Lily, too many questions.”

“It’s okay.” Christine touched his arm and talked to him in the soft voice that made him touch her hair or her cheek. Or sometimes he even kissed her on the mouth. That was because Nate loved her sister. He loved Lily and Anna, t
oo, but Christine was his wife. “You can ask me anything you want.”

Nate shook his head and muttered, “You have no idea what you’ve just said.”

Lily ignored her brother and smiled at Christine. “Is there an elevator inside? And a swimming pool?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Oh. Pop said his son’s house in California is one of those fancy-dancy places with an elevator and a swimming pool.”

“Sorry, no elevator and no pool.”

“That’s okay.” Lily opened the car door and scooted out. “Uncle Harry said this house has lots of secrets in it. I’m going to see if I can find where they’re hiding.”

Nate said a bad word under his breath, but Lily still heard him. “Nate. No swearing or I’ll tell Mom when we get back.”

“Come here and carry your suitcase. The servants aren’t going to wait on you.”

“There are servants?”

Christine walked to the trunk of the car with Anna in her arms. “No, no servants, just us.”

“And Uncle Harry, right? And Aunt Greta? And my cousins.” She held out a hand and ticked their names off on her fingers
. “AJ, Lizzie, and Jackson.”

Nate ruffled her hair and said, “You know you aren’t related to every single person you meet,
right?”

She grinned. “I have lots of relatives now. Before Christine came, there was just you and Mom.”

“I know, kiddo.” His voice turned soft and his dark eyes got darker. “It’s just that we really aren’t related to everyone. Aunt Gloria isn’t really—”

“Hey! Look who’s here.” Uncle Harry stood in the doorway, and for a second he reminded Lily of her father. Gulps of sadness made her swallow and her eyes got wet.
Oh, Daddy, I miss you so much
. Uncle Harry’s eyes were the same blue as hers, the same as her dad and Christine’s, Anna’s and baby Jackson, too. Mom called them “Blacksworth eyes” and said a person could spot them from a mile away. Lily thought that was too far, but if her mother said it, then it must be true.

“Give me a hug, Lily girl.” Uncle Harry stepped outside and Lily set down her suitcase and ran to him, flinging her body against his. “How’s my girl?”

His voice was louder than her dad’s and Uncle Harry said silly stuff that made her laugh. Once he showed her how far he could spit water. Lily hugged her uncle tight and said, “I missed you.”

He kissed the top of her head and said, “Ditto, kiddo.”

She pulled away, thinking about the new cousins she hadn’t met and Uncle Harry’s wife, who was now her aunt. So many people to meet and all of them family. She thought of Christine’s mom who had been kind of her aunt. Sort of. Nate said she wasn’t and he made that funny face like he did when he wasn’t happy, but Lily still thought she was. But now the pretty lady with the sparkly jewelry was dead, and that’s why they’d driven to Chicago, so they could see Christine’s house and to see her mother, who was in a vase by the fireplace. How could a person fit in a vase unless it was a really big one? When Nate wasn’t around, she’d ask Christine about it.

“Harry. Good to see you.” Nate held out a hand and Uncle Harry shook it
, then gave him a hug.

“Glad you finally made it here. Wish it were under different circumstances.” He shook his head. “Damn crazy thing. Who would have guessed she was sick?”

“Do I have to get in line to see my favorite uncle?” Christine stood by Nate with Anna in her arms.

“You mean your
only
uncle.” He laughed and gave Christine a big hug and then took Anna in his arms and said in a soft voice, “I’m your Uncle Harry. You sure are a beauty and quiet, too, not cranky like your old man.”

“Nate’s only cran
ky sometimes, not like before,” Lily said. She peeked around Uncle Harry’s shoulder and spotted a little girl with long curly blond hair. “Hi. I’m Lily.” She moved toward the girl and asked, “What’s your name?”

The girl grinned, flung her arms in the air and twirled three times, singing, “My name is Lizz
ie. Lizzie, Lizzie,
Lizzie
.”

Lily giggled. “You’re silly.”

Lizzie began hopping from one foot to the other. “Lily, Lily, Lily.” She stopped and stared up at Lily, her brows wrinkling. “Are we cousins?”

Lily nodded. “Of course we’re cousins. Christine is my sister. Uncle Harry is my uncle—”

“And who was the lady that died?” Lizzie asked in a loud whisper.

“The one who lived here?”

Lizzie nodded.

Lily leaned close and said in an equally loud whisper. “That was Aunt Gloria.”

And just like that, Lily made sense out of the confusion and chaos of a blended family and even more difficult, she gave Gloria a place in that family.

***

Christine took in her uncle’s jeans and chambray double-washed shirt, definitely not the sophisticated, dapper Harry Blacksworth style she’d associated with the man. Had she ever seen him in anything as casual as jeans? His sweat outfits were only for exercise, but other than that? No, she didn’t think so, and the mere fact that he stood before her, looking as out of place as Nate in a tuxedo, made the sight endearing. “Uncle Harry, you look so,” Christine paused and hid a smile, “comfortable.”

He attempted a frown, but it caved. “Not a word, Chrissie girl. Not a damn word.” Then he stepped closer and muttered, “Next she’ll have me wearing friggin’ flannel and corduroy.”

The “she” being Greta. Uncle Harry was all bluster these days, because they both knew he’d wear overalls and work boots if his wife asked him to do it. That’s what love did to a person. “I think I’d like to see you in flannel and corduroy. Don’t be surprised if your goddaughter doesn’t get them for you next Christmas.”

He shook his head and swore. “What the hell ever happened to style? Come to think of it, what the hell happened to
me
? Greta’s got me wearing these damn jeans around the house, said she got tired of the holes I made in my trousers. How the hell was I to know a pair of gabardines wouldn’t hold up on a jungle gym? The damn things cost enough.”

Christine’s lips twitched. “I don’t think that’s what the designers had in mind.”

“Huh.” He grinned. “Don’t tell Greta, but the damn jeans are actually comfortable and I buy the high-end ones so they fit well and if paired with the right shoe, say an Italian loafer, look pretty sharp.”

“No tennis shoes for you?” This time she could not keep the humor from her words.

He rolled his eyes and scowled. “Not unless I’m in the gym. I’m serious about that one. I love Greta and the kids, but I do have standards.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you, Uncle Harry
?”

“Damn straight I am.” His voice dipped, turned rough. “Happier than I have a right to be
.” He cleared his throat and met her gaze, his blue eyes bright. “Who would have ever thought this could happen to me, huh, Chrissie girl? A wife, kids, shit, a damn two-wheeler in the garage…and who would have thought I’d be so damned happy about it? I guess miracles really do happen.”

There was much about the trip that Christine would remember with a certain nostalgia, but there was also a good deal she’d just as soon forget. It was one thing for Nate to hear about her other life, her other home, how she grew up, the privileges she enjoyed. But it was something else to sit at the long table, passing food from china that cost more than most of his men made in a week, touch the coolness of the marble in the hallway, stare out the back window at the landscaping that would be a horticulturist’s haven.

Nate was silent as they lay in her old bed that first night, surrounded by her childhood and too much wealth. He hadn’t said much since they’d gotten here, but she could tell by the way his gaze narrowed and his head tilted that he was taking it all in, every last cornice, every tapestry and chandelier. Was he picturing her here, thinking about how her life was and how it could have been? Was he having regrets?

The last
possibility shot through her brain, burst, and sent a ripple of panic to the rest of her body. “Nate, what are you thinking?”

He stroked her back through the soft cotton of her T-shirt, his breath fanning her hair, and
murmured, “I’m thinking it’s a good thing I didn’t see all of this before.”

She lifted her head and tried to see his face in the
semidarkness. “What do you mean?” Of course, she already knew what he meant, but she wanted him to say it, so she could make him see exactly how wrong he was.

He sighed and his hand stilled. “I always knew we were from different worlds, but walking into your world is a real eye-opener. If I’d done that before I touched you, we might never have happened.”

Christine sucked in air and tried to keep her voice calm. “How can you say that? Do you know how much that hurts?”

“I’d never hurt you.” He said this with a fierceness that spoke of truth and conviction. “I still would have been dying to touch you, and I was half in love with you the first time I saw you, but if I
had come here,
seen
you in a life I couldn’t begin to understand? I don’t think I could have asked you to give it up.”

There was fear and uncertainty laced in the breath of his words, uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings in
someone like her husband. Nate was a proud man who made commitments and choices based on integrity and doing the right thing. Fear and uncertainty had no room in his life, and yet, here they were. She kissed him on the mouth, trailed her lips along his jaw and murmured, “Even if I wanted to give it up? Even if Magdalena became my true home? You would let me leave and never know the happiness and love—” she kissed his mouth again “—and sheer joy of life with you?”

His voice turned rough. “I would want to do the right thing.”

“And you have, Nathan Desantro.” She sat up, slipped her fingers beneath his boxers and smiled into the semidarkness. “You most certainly have.”

***

The surprise of the visit came the next day right before dinner. Greta and Nate were in the kitchen finishing up the last touches for the stuffed chicken-mashed potatoes-gravy-and-string bean dinner. Christine had just fed Anna and Jackson was asleep. AJ, Lizzie, and Lily were playing hide and seek in the basement. It was pretty much a day that would never have been permitted when Christine was growing up. When the doorbell rang, Harry answered it.

“Christine,” he called from the foyer. “Someone to see you.”

The someone was a beautiful young woman with dark hair and hazel eyes, dressed in a plain navy blouse and jeans. “Christine?” Her eyes lit up as she approached and offered a hand.

“Hello.” Christine shook
her hand and said, “How may I help you?”

“I’m
Elissa Cerdi. I used to cook for Mrs. Blacksworth,” she paused, “And then I became her companion.”

“I see.” But she didn’t, not really. “You took care of my mother?”
This was the girl her mother had referred to in her letter. Was she with Gloria when she died?

Elissa Cerdi’s
smile spread. “I like to think we took care of each other,” she said in a soft voice. “What a wonderful woman she was, but you know that.”

Well.
What to say to that? “Were you the one who mailed the letters?”

The young woman’s
eyes glistened with tears. “She gave me very specific instructions not to mail the letters until she was gone.” She sniffed, swiped at her nose. “I wanted to tell you when she was…when she was…”

“When she was near the end?”

She nodded. “But Mrs. Blacksworth wouldn’t permit it. Was I wrong to listen to her?” Her voice caught, filled with grief and sadness. “Would you have wanted to say a proper good-bye to your mother?” The girl glanced at the fireplace where the bronze urn rested. “I helped her pick that out. It was so sad.”

“Thank you for being there for her.” Christine didn’t know what she felt right now.
Her mother was dead, and even though Gloria had created untold turmoil and pain, she had still been her mother. But what kind of mother hires a woman to seduce her daughter’s husband? What was the real reason Gloria hadn’t wanted to see Christine before she died? Oh, she’d mentioned in the letter that she hadn’t wanted to cause any more inconvenience, but that didn’t sound like the woman who had driven Uncle Harry from The Presidio after her fall. Or the one who had insisted Connor Pendleton was the perfect choice for the perfect gene pool. Or the one who hired Natalie Servetti to seduce Nate, so Christine would “wake up” and get a divorce. Or the one who slept with her brother-in-law…They said people can change, but could they really? And if so, how much?