Abby laughed, the sound infectious. Michelle smiled.
"What?" Caroline asked.
"Won't grandmother spin in her grave to know her snooty family was reduced to an estate sale to make ends meet?"
Caroline smiled.
"That's settled then. Tell us what you want us to do. I'll ask for whatever weekend off if that's when you'll have the estate sale. I want to hear more about Brandon," Abby said.
It was late afternoon by the time Michelle dropped Caroline at Brandon's condo. She and Abby promised to go to Baton Rouge the next weekend to do what they could to speed up the process of winding up Eugenia's life.
Caroline had already contacted a real estate agent to list Talmadge Hall, and would contact an auction house to arrange sale of the furnishings. The appraisers were due to finish the next week, so they'd then have an idea of the taxes needed and the total of the bills the attorney was compiling.
On the way back to Brandon's place, Caroline had Michelle stop at the grocery store. She planned to make Shrimp Creole for dinner, one of Brandon's favorite meals. Buying all the ingredients, she hesitated buying cooking utensils. Even though he'd said he didn't cook much, surely he had the pots and pans.
"Are you going to be okay?" Michelle asked, as she pulled into a parking space near Brandon's building.
Caroline nodded. "I'm still reeling as I realize the lengths our grandmother went to get her own way. And to keep up appearances. But I'll get through it all. Do you think anyone cared but her? I mean, she could have cut back on expenses, lived a quieter life."
"After all I heard today, I have no idea how her mind worked. I can't believe what you told us about our father. Sell the place, make up with Brandon and let's get on with our lives," Michelle said.
Brandon wasn't home when Caroline let herself in. She experienced a moment of disappointment, but shook it off. He hadn't known when she was expected back. He'd be along when he finished his meeting.
Busying herself in the kitchen, Caroline forgot the cares of the estate and took pleasure in the simple task of cooking. She'd loved experimenting with new recipes when they'd been married, relished taking care of her husband. It had been a long time, but her contentment increased as the afternoon wore on.
When the Shrimp Creole was simmering, she began to clean up. Brandon had plenty of pans and bowls. One she recognized by the chip on the edge. They'd found it at a place near the university on one of their first weekends together. Slowly she dried the bowl, remembering how happy they'd been.
Remembering, too, the long, lonely years they'd lived apart. Tears filled her eyes.
She could never get those years back—the time she should have been at Brandon's side, helping him, encouraging him and loving him.
A sob escaped. So much time lost. So much love lost.
"Caroline?"
Brandon turned her around.
She gazed up at him, catching her lower lip between her teeth, blinking the tears from her eyes. She hadn't heard him come in.
"What is it?" His thumbs brushed her lashes, brushing away the tears. "Did you hurt yourself?"
She shook her head and stepped closer, feeling like she'd come home when his arms drew her into his embrace.
"I missed you," she said, holding on tightly.
"It's only been a few hours," he said, his hands soothing as they rubbed across her back.
She shook her head, leaning into him.
"I mean the last five years. I needed you and turned away. You needed me and I wasn't there."
She tried to stem the tears, but they wouldn't stop despite her efforts. "I'd give anything to turn back the clock."
"I know, sweetheart. Now that I know more, I'd have done things differently. But the past can't be undone. We can only go forward."
She took a deep breath. Decision time.
"Let's go forward—together. I don't think I can bear to be apart another five years," she said, holding him as if she'd never let him go.
"That's what we'll do, then," he said.
He kissed her again and Caroline gave back every speck of love in her. She wanted to be with him, share his life, learn what was important to him these days and what he couldn't abide.
She was breathless when he pulled back and gazed into her eyes. Suddenly he smiled, swung her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. Setting her on her feet beside the large bed, he looked her frankly in the face.
"No turning back, now, Caroline. We go forward together right? Us against the world no matter what."
She nodded "No matter what!"
She loved him so much!
"Together."
It was only as she dished up the Shrimp Creole some time later that Caroline realized Brandon had not spoken a single word of love.
To be fair, she hadn't said anything, either.
But he had to love her, didn't he? He wouldn't want to have a marriage without love.
Later Brandon stared out across the river. Night had fallen. In the background he could hear Caroline rinsing their dishes. Dinner had been wonderful—one of his favorite meals. When they'd been together before, she'd made it as a special celebration. Was she celebrating?
He should be. But something nagged him. He'd been concerned when he found her crying this afternoon. The gut-wrenching feeling reminiscent of when she'd cried so much after losing the baby.
The small rituals of domesticity with her fixing dinner warmed him. He'd been alone too long. Could they make it last this time?
There was something still not right.
Taking a sip of the cognac in his glass, he realized what it was. Never once had she mentioned the word love.
If she didn't love him, why did she want to resume their marriage?
Had he made a mistake telling her his reason for a divorce? Was she influenced by the thought of the money she'd be entitled to if his company became as large and successful as analysts predicted?
He didn't want to believe that, but it nagged him all the same.
Chapter Ten
Caroline hated to leave New Orleans Sunday night. Brandon asked her to stay longer, but she had too much to do to let herself be talked into staying.
"The sooner I get things wrapped up in Baton Rouge, the better," she explained. There were still a million things to decide. She wanted some time without distractions to do that. Then she'd have to face closing things up in Dallas.
"I'll come up on Wednesday," he said, kissing her gently.
"I'd like that," she said shyly.
Not wanting to cling, almost afraid to let go, she hugged him tightly.
"I'll count the minutes until then," she whispered in his ear.
She was almost afraid of the newfound happiness. For so long, she'd thought her life would stretch out forever alone and lonely. Now they were being given a second chance. It was almost too wonderful to trust.
"Drive carefully," he said gruffly, kissing her long and hard.
Monday Caroline contacted an estate auction sales office and made arrangements to hold a sale within the month.
Tuesday she read the rest of the correspondence and found nothing further relating to her father. Proof apparently wasn't going to be found in Eugenia's papers.
To see the truth in black and white would have been nice, but after what Eugenia had done between her and Brandon, she knew without further proof that her grandmother had been instrumental in driving away her father. She didn't know how, or why, but she no longer needed the proof she'd once longed for.
"More mail came since you were here last," Rosalie said when Caroline sat down for dinner. The older woman plopped a stack of envelopes, fliers and catalogs down beside Caroline's place.
"Eat first before reading."
Caroline nodded and waited until Rosalie had returned to the kitchen. Slowly, while eating, she sifted through the mail. Not much worth even looking at. She received some of the same catalogs at her place.
There was a letter with shaky writing addre
ssed to Eugenia Talmadge's Granddaughters.
Intrigued, Caroline opened it. A sympathy card. From Edith Strong! She was sorry to hear of Eugenia's death. They'd been friends as young women. Her sympathy was with her granddaughters.
She stared at it, a strange premonition taking hold. Was this the same Edith of the letter?
Looking at the return address, Caroline noted it was an assisted living home in Baton Rouge.
Not waiting to finish her meal, she dashed to her purse to dig out her phone.
"Madison," Brandon's deep voice immediately answered.
"Hi, it's Caroline. Guess what I just got?"
"A winning lottery ticket worth ten million dollars if the excitement in your voice is to be believed," he said.
"Better than that! Remember the letter from Edith—the one that made mention of Eugenia's interfering?"
"Yes."
"I think I have a card from that same Edith—a sympathy card to her granddaughters on the loss of our grandmother. Brandon—she's living in a retirement home not too far from here."
"And you want to go see her," he guessed.
She laughed, giddy with excitement. "Yes! Maybe she can tell me what I need to know."
"Tomorrow, we'll go tomorrow when I get there. Wait for me. I'll arrive around one, all right?"
Caroline didn't want to wait another minute, but she knew a few more hours wouldn't matter—not after all this time. And she'd like to have Brandon with her.
"Okay, I'll wait. But don't be late."
"I won't. I want to see you," he said in a low tone.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes against the longing that filled her. "I want to see you, too. Yesterday and today seemed endless!"
"Tomorrow, then."
"Keep safe."
She ended the call and stashed her phone back in her purse.
He'd be here tomorrow!
Edith was almost forgotten as Caroline anticipated Brandon's arrival. She'd missed him. More these last couple of days than in the last five years, she believed.
The weekend had proved to her that they belonged together. And she was willing to take him on whatever terms he dictated. If he didn't love her anymore, it was her own fault. She loved him enough for both of them.
And talking on the phone wasn't enough. She wanted to be with him!
Grateful the baby issue had been shelved, she didn't plan to bring it up again. They'd be happy the two of them, without a baby. It wasn't the life they'd originally planned, but it'd work. She'd do her best to make it work.
Wednesday, Caroline rose, excitement and a hint of trepidation churning. She needed something to soothe her overwrought nerves, not exacerbate them. Brandon would be in Baton Rouge soon, only a few more hours! She could hardly wait. First she'd see him, and then they may find out the answers she'd been searching for.
Eating dry toast and some tea, she hurried through breakfast and began going through yet another bedroom as if plunging into work would bring one o'clock that much faster.
Brandon didn't arrive until after one. She'd been checking the drive every couple of minutes, anticipation growing with each second..
Caroline grabbed her purse and almost ran the short distance to greet him.
"Hi," she said breathlessly.
"Hi yourself," He leaned over to kiss her.
"Hmm," she said, giving in to the kiss. "I've missed you. It was awful to be apart, but the getting back together isn't bad," she murmured.
"Let's go find your grandmother's friend."
Caroline was all for that. The sooner the task was completed, the sooner they could be alone.
She took the sympathy card and envelope with her.
"I hope she remembers," Caroline said, as they settled in Brandon's car. "Sometimes people in homes like that have dementia. What if she doesn't remember?"
"Then you're no worse off than you are right now," he said practically.
The drive to the retirement home was short. Before long they parked adjacent to the beautiful grounds of Sunny Acres. Walking up the wide sidewalk, Caroline felt almost sick with tension. She swallowed hard, hoping she'd find the end to the puzzle here.
If not, would she give up her quest? Was it too late to find her father, learn from him what had happened.
Her mother and father never had the opportunity to get back together. She felt sad thinking of how badly her grandmother had interfered with other peoples' lives.
They were shown in to a bright parlor and in only a few minutes an older lady arrived using a walker.
"Edith Strong?" Caroline asked, standing and crossing to the elderly woman, offering her hand.
"Yes. I don't get visitors very often. Who are you?"
She looked older than Eugenia had, her hair entirely white, wispy and thin. Her eyes peered up at Caroline through thick glasses.
"I'm Caroline Talmadge—Eugenia Talmadge's granddaughter. One of them. I received your card yesterday."
Edith shook her hand and motioned for Caroline to sit on the nearby chair. She slowly sat in a straight back chair as Caroline introduced Brandon.
"I thought for sure I'd go before Eugenia. I fell and broke my hip four years ago. I won't ever walk unaided, you know. Most old folks like me don't get up and about after something like that. But Eugenia—she had so daggum much determination that I thought she'd outlive us all." She shook her head again.
"You and she were friends," Caroline said, sitting on the edge of the chair. Impatiently she wanted to find out everything but she kept her voice calm. Brandon leaned against the wall a few steps away, quietly observing. She flicked him a glance and then looked back at Edith.
"We were good friends for a long time when we were young." Her expression became pensive. "Weathered a lot of ups and downs, I can tell you."
"Was one of the downs when she drove my father away?" Caroline asked gently.
Edith looked at her sharply. "Know about that, do you?"
Caroline nodded. "Not the details, though. Could you fill those in?"
Edith gazed off into the distance for a minute, then sighed softly and began to speak.
"I told her at the time she was a fool to do it. It isn't right that a person play God that away. And once her Amanda died, I think she regretted what she'd done. Amanda'd be alive today, I believe, if Eugenia hadn't interfered. But her pride was something awful and her determination to get what she wanted. The only time I've seen her so furious was when Amanda came home after marrying Sam Williams."
"My parents were married a number of years and had children together. How could Eugenia have driven my father away?" Caroline asked.
"Amanda married him in New Orleans. He was an oil wildcatter—worked the rigs in the gulf. They had you almost before Eugenia knew they'd been married. I suspected Amanda wasn't chancing anything going wrong. She didn't want to do anything but be married to Sam. He was a fine figure of a man—tall, broad shouldered. Dark hair."
She studied Caroline for a moment. "You look of him, a bit. And he sure adored you. Many's the time I was at Eugenia's when your father tossed you up in the air laughing with you, claiming you were his sunshine."
Caroline swallowed hard. Her father had loved her! She blinked back tears.
"What happened?"
"Tom Prescott's what happened," Edith snapped.
"Who's Tom Prescott?" Caroline recognized the name—the Prescotts were an old Louisiana family—with a fortune from cotton and rice.
"He was a young man who became smitten with your mother. And he came from the kind of background Eugenia wanted for Amanda—old family, old money. Not some jumped up, no-account wildcatter." Edith peered at Caroline.
"Eugenia did all she could to throw Tom and Amanda together—to no avail, Amanda had eyes only for her Sam. So Eugenia trumped up charges against your father for the murder of an old man. Got old Judge Sutherland to help her. He'd wanted to marry your grandmother for years. She didn't want to give up the Talmadge name, but w
asn't above using his devotion when it suited her."
"They accused my father of murder?" Caroline was stunned.
"Eugenia met with Sam privately—swore she had proof that would convict him, and that she'd use it if he didn't leave. Had the judge issue a warrant and everything. Quiet like, though. She didn't want her name dragged in the mud. I don't know what that proof was, but it must have been pretty strong. Sam left to protect his family and Amanda soon died of a broken heart. She was pregnant with that third girl, what's her name?"
"Abigail, Abby."
"Abby. That's right. I don't think Sam even knew there was another one on the way. He lit out and we never heard from him again. Of course your mother died soon after Abby was born. I don't know if he heard about her passing or not, but if he did, maybe he felt there was no reason to return. Eugenia still held all the cards. And there's no statue of limitations on murder."
Her eyes shifted as if she gazed into the distant past.
"They were a fine young couple, so in love, so happy. Eugenia couldn't stand that, you know. She wanted her Amanda allied with the Prescotts. Instead, her girl died young. Eugenia never said another word about Sam. But I sure have wondered over the years if she ever regretted what she'd done."
"There were reasons to return, his daughters!" Caroline said.
"Honey, he knew that harridan of a grandmother of yours would slap him in jail so fast it'd make your head spin. He didn't have the money or resources to fight a Talmadge. Or a murder charge."
Caroline shook her head. "There must have been something he could have done."
"I told Eugenia she'd done a terrible thing. But she wanted that Tom Prescott for Amanda and wouldn't be stopped."
"Instead Mama died," Caroline said softly.
"She sure did. I always thought it was from a broken heart. She had no idea what her mother had done. That was a sad day. And it knocked Eugenia for a loop. But she rallied and said she'd have three chances now to do the Talmadges proud. She had three granddaughters."
"None of us married to suit her, either." She glanced at Brandon. "But not for lack of trying on her part. Wouldn't you have thought she'd learn from what happened with her daughter? She pulled almost the same stunt between my husband and me."
Letters to Caroline (The Talmadge Sisters Book 1) Page 14
