Letters to Caroline (The Talmadge Sisters Book 1)

by Barbara McMahon

  Last night had been wonderful.

  If his office hadn't called, would they have made love again?

  Nothing had been said about the future, but before falling asleep, Caroline envisioned today totally differently.

  Instead of reading musty old papers, she'd have suggested a long picnic in the lazy afternoon sunshine. Maybe dinner and dancing in downtown Baton Rouge, she thought wistfully.

  "Daydreams aren't worth the paper they're written on," she quoted wryly.

  Turning resolutely, she knew she couldn't daydream away her life. He was leaving. That was that.

  She knocked against the chair holding his suit jacket. As it slid to the floor, she smiled sadly. When they'd lived together, he'd always slung his jacket on the back of any available chair, leaving it to her to hang it in the closet.

  Sighing wryly, she admitted old habits were hard to break. She reached down to pick it up. A batch of folded papers fell from his inside pocket. Her name on the partially folded sheet caught her eye. Slowly, she picked up the pages and opened the packet. Skimming the front page, she sank to the edge of the bed in shock.

  Divorce papers! That had been the reason he'd shown up. She shouldn't be surprised.

  Embarrassed heat flooded her as she realized what a mistake last night had been.

  She'd been entertaining thoughts that they might try to get back together, might try to make their marriage work.

  Instead Brandon had come to ask her for a divorce!

  An incredible hurt began to sweep through her. He'd never hinted at the real reason for his visit. Last night had seemed so special and, gullible as a teenager, she'd gone along with his every suggestion.

  Gone along? She'd practically thrown herself at him. No wonder he'd said nothing.

  "I'll call you—"

  Brandon stopped in the doorway, his eyes on her face. When he dropped his gaze to the papers in her lap, his expression closed.

  "You'll call me about the divorce? Was that what you were going to say?" she asked. Slowly her hand rose to massage her heart. She knew it was breaking—again.

  Was that possible?

  "Caroline, honey, I—"

  She rose, enraged. "Don't honey me, you lying rat! You never did say why you showed up this week, did you? What was last night about? You came here for a divorce. Was last night just a final fling?"

  She threw the papers at him. Brandon didn't move and the sheets drifted to the floor. Caroline stepped over them as she stormed for the door.

  "Don't leave!" he ordered.

  She turned to glare at him. "I don't have to leave. If I wait long enough you'll do that for us, right? Go to your precious business. And don't ever come back."

  "Caroline."

  "Shut up!"

  Horrified at what she'd discovered, horrified that she'd misjudged the situation so much, Caroline spun around and ran down the hall to her own room, slamming the door shut behind her as the tears spilled over.

  She hadn't cried in front of him. A small victory, but all she seemed to have right now.

  Last night had been glorious.

  But was she the only one to think so?

  He'd come for a divorce. Feeling betrayed, she crossed the room to her own bathroom, locking the door behind her. She had no reason to think he'd come after her, his track record proved that. But just in case. She reached for a towel and sank on the edge of the tub. Her heart was breaking. Sobbing, she tried for control. It was too much. Too much.

  "Caroline." He rapped on the door, tried the knob. "Caroline, let me in."

  She held her breath, trying to stop the tears. It wasn't like Brandon to come after her. Didn't he have to be at work? Wouldn't his precious business fold without his constant attention?

  He knocked harder on the door. "Caroline, I can't leave you like this."

  She took a shaky breath, fighting for control. "Go, Brandon. Go away."

  "Caroline, this is a major crisis. I have to be there."

  "Go away and don't ever come back."

  Endless minutes passed. Tears welled again, spilled over her cheeks. She blotted them with the damp towel. She couldn't go through this again. Why hadn't he told her that first afternoon? Why let her begin to dream about—?

  "I have to go, but I'm coming back. You can count on that."

  The day dragged by. Caroline ignored the stack of papers awaiting her. Ignored the other tasks that had to be done to prepare the house for sale. By the end of the day, she'd accomplished nothing.

  Sinking listlessly on one of the wicker rockers on the veranda, she waited for Rosalie to call her to supper. The late-afternoon air was still and hot. Idly staring at the overgrown yard, Caroline ignored it all. Her emotions were all topsy-turvy—anger, hurt, regret.

  How could she have allowed herself to be tempted by Brandon?

  How could she help it? He tempted her beyond her ability to resist, obviously.

  Shaking her head to dislodge those kind of thoughts, she vowed to forget him. He'd returned to his first love, one with whom she couldn't compete. The sooner she got things squared away and returned to her own life, the better she'd be.

  And that included forgetting how irresponsibly she'd behaved last night.

  The house phone rang. Despite her newfound intentions, her heart leaped. Was it Brandon?

  She went swiftly to the hall phone. "Hello."

  "Hi, sis, how are you doing?" Abby asked.

  Trying to ignore the flare of disappointment, Caroline forced some enthusiasm into her voice.

  "I'm doing all right. I didn't expect you to use this phone.”

  “Well, I called your cell a couple of times today and it always went to voice mail.”

  Caroline thought a moment. “I think I let the battery run down.” She wasn't even sure where her phone was.

  “So are you making any headway?” Abby asked.

  “The appraiser came yesterday. He says it'll take a while, and he wants to do a room by room assessment. He's bringing a whole battery of appraisers, since each of them has a different area of expertise. I thought they could do it in a few days but they say it may take weeks."

  "Is Brandon still there?"

  Caroline went still. "No," she said shortly.

  "Oh. I thought he was staying through the weekend, at least."

  "There was an emergency at work. And work always comes first with Brandon."

  "So, uh, did you and he talk some."

  "Of course," Caroline said dryly, knowing where her sister was heading. "He was a guest in the house. Did you think I'd ignore him?"

  "I mean about, you know, your marriage. About getting back together."

  "Nothing's changed."

  Except for her entire world being turned upside down in the space of one night.

  But Caroline didn't plan to tell anyone that. Especially not her romantic sister. She'd be crushed to learn Brandon had arrived solely to start divorce proceedings.

  "I have a couple of days off in the middle of next week. I can come up and help you sort things or whatever," Abby said.

  Caroline was tempted, but suspected she should refuse. She didn't want to tell her sisters about their grandmother's revelation until she knew for certain whether it were true or not. Until then, it'd be better for her to do the sorting.

  "Not much to do until the appraisals are finished," she said. "Once that's done, I'll have the items you tagged ready to be shipped to you when the house sells."

  "I have a friend who has a truck so I'll bring them back myself. I didn't want that much. Sell the rest of that stuff and make us a mint! Michelle and I'll do our share spending all that lovely loot. No sense cluttering up my small apartment with grandmother's antiques. I don't like the memories most of them bring."

  Abby chatted for a few more minutes.

  Caroline was smiling by the end. Her sister's call had raised her spirits.

  Glancing up the stairs, she was tempted to go to Brandon's room. She wondered for the hundredt
h time what Brandon did with the papers she'd thrown at him that morning. She ought to go up to see if they still lay on the floor or if he'd taken them back with him.

  The phone rang again making her jump.

  "Hello?"

  "Caroline?" It was Brandon.

  Immediately she tightened up, the urge to slam down the receiver was strong. How perverse—she wanted him to call, but now she was afraid of what he'd say.

  "What?"

  "I wanted to see if you're all right."

  "I'm fine. Goodbye."

  "Wait! I thought you'd like to know about the situation here. There turns out to be a major glitch in the software patch sent to fix another problem. It wasn't beta tested because we rushed the patch through. The result now is I have a major customer mad as he can get. The thing is, I have appointments this week that I really can't postpone."

  "So?"

  "So, I can't be with you for the next few days." The edge to his voice warned her he was becoming impatient.

  "I don't expect you to be with me at all. You have no obligation here."

  She hated she'd been badly burned once by this man. She'd be living in a fool's paradise to ever allow herself the slightest glimmer of hope that things could go back the way they'd once been.

  "I'll be back as soon as I can make it."

  The sincerity almost convinced her there might be a chance.

  Almost.

  "There's no reason to come back, Brandon. Goodbye."

  Slowly, despite his protest, she ended the call.

  Giving into curiosity, Caroline climbed the stairs and went to the guest room Brandon had used. The door was open, the bed made. Obviously Rosalie had not let things slide. The room looked immaculate. There were no papers anywhere.

  So, she wondered as she headed back downstairs, had he taken them to use for an excuse to see her again? Or had Rosalie picked them up and put them someplace.

  Why had he come? He could have mailed them.

  The following weekend Michelle arrived to help with the task of packing up Eugenia's personal things.

  Caroline had done as much as she could sorting the boxes from the attic. She was glad for her sister's company and was strongly tempted to tell her about her suspicions, about the wild tale Eugenia had told. But she refrained as she had with Abby. No sense all of them worrying about what Eugenia might or might not have done.

  They packed up their grandmother's clothes and donated everything still serviceable to a women's shelter. Going through her books they'd put aside the first editions to sell. The rest, and Caroline was surprised at how many books there were on the history of Mississippi and Louisiana, they donated to the library.

  Michelle refrained from bringing up Brandon's name until supper on Sunday.

  "Heard from Brandon?" she asked, sitting opposite Caroline at the dining-room table.

  Caroline shook her head and deliberately took a bite of the delicious shrimp salad Rosalie had prepared.

  "Abby said he'd been called back unexpectedly because of some crisis?" Michelle persisted.

  Caroline nodded, taking a sip of iced tea. She reached for a hot roll and began to butter it.

  "Caroline," Michelle said exasperated, "what's the scoop?"

  "No scoop. He came, helped out until work called, then left. End of story."

  Michelle thought a moment, watching her sister carefully. Shaking her head slowly she said, "There's more. Spill it."

  Caroline considered it. She truly thought she could tell her without breaking down, without revealing how for a few brief hours she'd thought about changing her life.

  But she didn't want her sisters to feel sorry for her. Not a second time.

  "That's it. Did I tell you that Grandmother's attorney called me on Friday? I asked him to get all the papers together that I need to sign. There's something else he wants to discuss with me, something important apparently. He didn't want to discuss it on the phone. I'm to see him on Wednesday."

  "If you don't mind handling it, Abby and I will be guided by whatever you decide."

  "I don't mind. I can't think of what he wants to talk about. I wish the appraisers would finish so we can list the house.”

  “Do you think it'll sell fast?" Michelle asked.

  "Nope. It'll take a special person, one with money and who wouldn't mind all the upkeep required," Caroline said.

  Michelle glanced around the elegant dining room and wrinkled her nose. "One of us should have felt some attachment to this place."

  "Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if our father hadn't left and mama hadn't died when Abby was born?" Caroline asked slowly.

  "When he deserted us, you mean? When I was little I used to pretend he came back and took us away from Eugenia. And let me stay up late to watch TV."

  Caroline smiled. Maybe she wasn't the only one affected by their father's absence.

  "I always felt it was my fault he left," she said.

  Michelle laughed. "That's dumb, sis. You were about four, right? I was still a baby. How could we have done anything to make a grown man leave?"

  "I know that as an adult, but as a kid that's what I thought. And I worried about my bad blood."

  "What bad blood?" Michelle asked, puzzled.

  "Once I had biology and understood how babies came to be made, and listening to Eugenia harp on lineage and bad blood and the mistake our mother made marrying our father, I worried that I took after him and had bad blood."

  "Right, like we could believe anything grandmother said. She was fanatical on the mistake Mom made marrying the man. But she was the only one who thought that marriage was a mistake and only because she wanted her daughter to marry some rich man she'd picked out for her. And it's evident that our father wasn't rich enough."

  "As a teenager, I wondered if Mama died of a broken heart."

  The knocker on the front door rapped.

  Michelle looked up. "Expecting company?"

  Caroline shook her head.

  Rosalie used the main hall to get to the door. Caroline looked at Michelle and strained to hear who it was.

  Two seconds later Brandon walked into the dining room.

  Rosalie came right behind him, her face beaming.

  "Now you just sit down and I'll bring you a plate right away. I know you must be starving with that long drive from New Orleans. We've got plenty of food. And I know you'll want iced tea. Sit right here."

  She pulled out the chair next to Caroline. "I'll be right back."

  With a bright grin, she scurried into the kitchen.

  Brandon greeted Michelle, then Caroline, sitting in the chair Rosalie had drawn out.

  "What are you doing here?" Caroline asked, stunned to see him.

  Stunned at the delight that swept through her.

  She flicked a glance at Michelle who stared at her in surprise. Taking a deep breath, she pinned a polite smile on her face. "I didn't expect you."

  Brandon nodded, amusement evident in his gaze. "I told you I'd be back as soon as I could rearrange it. Finished up everything pressing this morning, which frees me up for the next couple of days. Nice to see you again, Michelle. Will you be joining us in searching?"

  "Searching?"

  "No, Michelle's leaving after supper," Caroline said, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to head Brandon away from that dangerous topic. "We've done lots this weekend—sorted Eugenia's clothes. We gave the usable items to a shelter and threw away the rest. Although, we did keep two old dresses to use as rags. We threw out the ones that no one could wear. Dumped her cosmetics and personal items."

  "And the books, don't forget the books, Caroline," Michelle said, laughing softly.

  When her sister looked at her, she raised her eyebrows in feigned innocence. "I don't know why Brandon needs a play-by-play account of our weekend, but if you're going to give it to him, be precise."

  "Oh."

  Caroline felt like an idiot. Grateful for Rosalie's interruption when she arrived with a h
eaping plate for Brandon, she took a sip of iced tea hoping to gain some control over her wayward emotions.

  Seeing Brandon was not conducive to serenity.

  As she studied him, her heart rate sped up. Her mind filled with images of the two of them the last night he'd been there.

  Today, his dark hair looked windblown. His suit fit perfectly, giving him a distinguished appearance that had her flustered. She had trouble thinking straight. Why couldn't the man have stayed in New Orleans?

  She couldn't very well kick him out while Michelle was sitting there. The questions would be endless. But as soon as her sister left, she'd have it out with Brandon Madison. If he'd brought his blasted divorce papers, she'd sign them and send him on his way tonight!

  Michelle seemed reluctant to leave. When they'd finished dinner, she suggested they sit on the veranda for a while. She and Brandon easily discussed various topics. Caroline threw in a comment from time to time to keep her sister from suspecting anything was wrong, but as the evening progressed she wanted to scream her frustration.

  The later it got, the harder it'd be to get rid of Brandon.

  Even now, it was almost too late for anyone to reach New Orleans at a reasonable hour.

  "Oh, look at the time, I must go," Michelle said, as if reading her sister's mind. "This has been great, Brandon. I'm so glad we got to visit for a while."

  Brandon stood as Michelle did. "Can I help you with your bags?"

  "Thanks, but I only had a small tote and put it in the car before supper. I'd say don't be a stranger, but I don't think I need to say that now, right?" she asked, glancing between the two of them.

  Fortunately, Caroline thought, Brandon kept silent. She gave a small smile and remained quiet herself. Time enough to explain things to her sisters later, after she clarified everything with Brandon.

  "Goodbye, Caroline, let me know what happens with the attorney." Michelle gave her a hug and then surprised Caroline by giving Brandon a brief hug. "See you."

  Caroline remained silent as her sister started her car and drove down the driveway.

  Finally, she stood and faced the man who was driving her crazy. "You have a nerve coming back."