by Diana Palmer
“If you say so,” she said, hiding the gleam in her eyes.
“You little termagant,” he said, exasperated.
“Where do you get all those big words?” she asked.
“College.”
“Really? You never told me you went to college.”
He shrugged. “I don’t like talking about the past.”
“I noticed.”
“We could talk about your past,” he invited.
“And after those forty-five seconds, we could go back to yours,” she teased, blue eyes twinkling. “Come on, what did you study?”
“Law.” His face hardened with the memories. “Criminal law.”
She frowned. “That was before you came to work for Daddy, yes?”
She was killing him and she didn’t know it. His hand, on the thick white mug, was almost white with the pressure he was exerting. “A long time before that.”
“Then, what...”
Mandy came into the room like a chubby whirlwind. “Where did you put the ribbons I was saving to wrap the holiday cookies with?” she demanded from Sari.
“Oh, my gosh, I was working on homemade Christmas cards and I borrowed them. I’m sorry!”
“Go get them,” Mandy ordered with all the authority of a drill sergeant. “Right now!”
Sari left in a whirlwind, and Mandy turned to Paul, who was paler than normal. His hand, around the mug, was just beginning to loosen its grip.
He gave her a suspicious look.
“Sari doesn’t think,” Mandy said quietly. “She’s curious and she asks questions, because she doesn’t think.”
He didn’t admit anything. He took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he bit off.
“We all have dark memories that we never share, Mr. Paul,” she said gently. She patted his shoulder as she walked behind him. “Age diminishes the sting a bit. But you’re much too young for that just yet,” she added with a soft chuckle.
“You’re a tonic, girl.”
“I haven’t been a girl for forty years, you sweet man, but now I feel like one!”
He laughed, the pain washing away in good humor.
“There. That’s better,” she said, smiling at him. “You just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and it gets easier.”
“It’s been almost five years.”
“Thirty years for me,” Mandy said surprisingly. “And it’s much easier now.”
He drew in a breath and finished his coffee. “Maybe in twenty-five years, I’ll forget it all, then.”
She looked at him with a somber little smile. “It would do an injustice to the people we love to forget them,” she said softly. “Pain comes with the memories, sure. But the memories become less painful in time.”
He scowled. “You should have been a philosopher.”
“And then who’d bake cookies for you and Miss Sari and Miss Merrie?” she asked.
“Well, if we had to depend on Sari’s cooking, I expect we’d all starve,” he said deliberately when he heard Sari coming.
She stopped in the doorway, gasping and glaring. “That is so unfair!” she exclaimed. “Heavens, I made an almost-edible, barely scorched potato casserole just last week!”
“That’s true,” Mandy agreed.
Paul glowered. “Almost being the operative word.”
“And I didn’t even mention that I saw you pushing yours out the back door while I was trying to pry open one of my biscuits so I could butter it!”
Sari sighed. “I guess they were pretty good substitute for bricks,” she added. “Maybe I’ll learn to cook one day.”
“You’re doing just fine, darlin’,” Mandy said encouragingly. “It takes time to learn.” She shot Paul a glance. “And a lot of encouragement.”
“Damn, Sari, I almost got one of those biscuits pried open to put butter in!” He glanced at Mandy. “How’s that?”
“Why don’t you go patrol the backyard?” Sari muttered.
“She’s picking on me again, Mandy,” he complained.
“Don’t you be mean to Mr. Paul, young lady.” Mandy took his part at once.
“He says terrible things about me, and you never chastise him!” Sari accused.
“Well, darlin’, I may be old, but I can still appreciate a handsome man.” She grinned at them.
Sari threw up her hands. Paul made her a handsome bow, winked and walked out the back door.
“You always take his side,” Sari groaned.
Mandy chuckled. “He really is handsome,” she said defensively.
“Yes. Too handsome. And too standoffish. He’ll never look at me as anything but the kid I was when he came here.”
“You’ve got law school to get through,” Mandy reminded her. She sobered. “And you know how your dad feels about you getting involved with anyone.”
“Yes, I know,” Sari said miserably. “Especially anybody who works for him.” Shivering softly, she said, “It’s just, I’m getting older. I’m a grown woman. And I can’t even drive myself to San Antonio to go shopping or invite friends over.”
“You don’t have any friends,” Mandy countered.
“I don’t dare. Neither does Merrie,” she added solemnly. “We’re young, with the whole world out there waiting for us, and we have to get permission to leave the house. Why?” she exclaimed.
Mandy ground her teeth. “You know how your dad guards his privacy. He’s afraid one of you might let something slip.”
“Like what? We don’t know anything about his business, or even his private life,” Sari exclaimed.
“And you’re both safe as long as it’s kept that way,” Mandy said without thinking, then slapped a hand across her mouth.
Sari bit her lower lip. She moved closer. “What do you know?”
“Things I’ll die before I’ll tell you,” the older woman replied, turning pale.
“How do you know them?”
Mandy ignored her.
“Your brother, right?” she whispered. “He knows people who know things.”
“Don’t you ever say that out loud,” she cautioned the younger woman, looking hunted until Sari reassured her that she’d never do any such thing.
“It’s like living in a combat zone,” Sari muttered.
“A satin-cushioned one,” came the droll reply. “If you want an apple pie, here’s a do-it-yourself kit.” She put a basin of apples in front of the younger woman. “So get busy and peel.”
Sari started to argue. But then she recalled the delicious pies Mandy could make, so she shut up and started peeling.
* * *
GRADUATION CAME ALL too soon. The household, except for Darwin Grayling, who was in Europe at the time, went to Merrie’s first at the high school and took enough pictures to fill an album. Then, only a few days later, it was Isabel’s graduation from college. Merrie kept fussing with Sari’s high collar.
“It’s okay,” her older sibling protested.
“It’s not! There’s a wrinkle, and I can’t get it smoothed out!” Merrie grumbled.
“It will be hidden under my robes,” Sari said gently, turning. She smiled at her younger sister. She shook her head. With her long blond hair like a curtain down her back, wearing a fluffy blue dress, Merrie looked like a picture of Alice in Wonderland that Sari had seen in a book. “I like your hair like that,” she said.
Merrie laughed, her pale blue eyes lighting up. “I look like Alice. Go ahead. Say it. You’re thinking it,” she accused.
Sari wrinkled her nose.
Merrie sighed. “He decides what we’ll wear, where we’ll go, what we do when we get there,” she said under her breath, her eyes on their father, standing with Paul near the front door. “Sari, normal women don’t live like this! T
he girls I go to school with have dates, go shopping...!”
“Stop, or I won’t get to graduate at all,” the older sister muttered under her breath when Darwin Grayling shot an irritated glance toward them at Merrie’s slightly raised tone.
Merrie drew in a deep breath. “It’s Sari’s collar,” she called to her father. “I can’t get the wrinkle out!”
“Leave it be,” he shot back. He looked at his watch. “We need to leave now. I have meetings with my board of directors in Dallas in three hours.”
“That’s your graduation, sandwiched in between breakfast and a board meeting,” Merrie teased under her breath. “At least he came home for your graduation,” she added a little bitterly.
Sari kissed her sister’s cheek. “I was there at yours. So were Mandy and Paul. Now shut up or I’ll never graduate,” came the whispered reply. “Let’s go!” She smoothed down her very discreet black dress, regardless of her own wishes—and started toward the door. She noticed Paul’s faint wince as he saw how she was dressed, like someone out of a very old Bette Davis movie instead of a young woman ready to start graduate school.
She didn’t answer that look. It might have been fatal to his employment if she had.
* * *
GRADUATION WAS BOISTEROUS and fun, despite her father, who sat through the entire ceremony texting on his phone and then conducting a business call the minute the graduates filed out into the spring sunshine.
“Maybe it’s glued to him,” Merrie teased as she and Sari were briefly alone.”
Attached by invisible cords,” Sari replied. “Hi, Grace, happy graduation!” Sari called to a fellow graduate.
“Thanks, Sari! You off to law school in the fall?” she asked.
“Yes. You?”
“I’m moving in with my boyfriend,” Grace sighed, indicating a tall, gangly boy talking to another boy. “We’re both going to the University of Tennessee.”
“Oh, I see,” Sari said, still not comfortable with modern ideas and choices.
Grace made a face. “Honestly, Sari, you need to buy normal clothes and go out with boys,” Grace said, loud enough for Sari’s father to hear.
He hung up his phone and moved to join them, looking expensive and coldly angry. “Are you ready to go, Isabel?” he asked curtly. His eyes never left Grace. He looked at her as if she were some disease he was afraid his daughters might catch.
“Uh, congrats, Sari. See you around,” Grace said, red-faced, and went back to her boyfriend.
“Slut,” Darwin said, just loud enough for his voice to carry and Grace to look both ruffled and insulted. “Let’s go.” He took Sari by the arm and almost dragged her to the waiting limousine, with a flustered Merrie running to catch up.
“I’ll have Paul watching,” Darwin said as Paul put the girls into the back of the limo and stood aside, holding the door, so that Darwin could slide into the seat facing them. The door closed. “I’ll expect you to associate with decent girls. Do you understand? That goes for you, too, Meredith!”
“Yes, Daddy,” Sari said.
“I understand,” Merrie added with a sigh.
The sisters didn’t dare look at each other. It would have been fatal.
* * *
THE DINNER DARWIN had referred to was obviously going to be prepared by Mandy and just for the two women. Darwin had Paul drive him to the airport where his corporate jet was waiting. Sari and Merrie changed clothes and sat down to a lovely chicken casserole with homemade rolls and even a chocolate cake.
“It’s delicious, Mandy,” Sari said halfway through the meal. “Thanks!”
“Yes, it’s wonderful!” Merrie enthused.
“Some graduation,” Mandy muttered. “Should have gone out with your classmates and had fun, not be stuck here with me and an empty house.”
“You know how Daddy is,” Sari said quietly. “He doesn’t think...”
“He doesn’t care,” Merrie interrupted coolly. “It’s the truth, Sari, you just don’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want us going out with men because we might get involved and tell somebody something he doesn’t want known. He doesn’t want us getting married because we’d be out from under his thumb! Besides, some of that money might go outside the family!”
“I suppose you’re right,” Sari said, tasting her cake. “It’s just, you get used to a routine. You don’t even realize that it really is a routine.” Her eyes twinkled. “Honestly, I thought Daddy was going to have a coronary when Grace talked about moving in with her boyfriend!”
Merrie chuckled. “I know! At least four of my classmates live with boys. They say it’s very exciting...”
“Don’t you even think about it,” Mandy told them, waving a spoon in their direction. “There’s enough wild-eyed girls out there already. You two are going to get married and live happily-ever-after.”
“You make it sound like a fairy tale,” Sari accused.
“Maybe, but I want more for you than being some man’s temporary bed partner while he climbs the ladder to success,” Mandy murmured. “Your mother wanted that, too. She went to church every Sunday. She believed that people have a purpose, that life has a purpose. She was an idealist.”
“Yes, well, she waited to get married and she found Daddy,” Sari said quietly. “So there goes your fairy-tale ending. I remember her more than Merrie does. She was unhappy. She tried not to let it show, but it did. Sometimes I found her crying when she thought nobody was looking. And she had bruises...”
“Don’t ever speak of that where Mr. Darwin or even Mr. Paul could hear you,” Mandy cautioned, looking frightened.
“I never would,” Sari assured her. She grimaced. “But it’s like living in prison,” she muttered.
“A prison with silk hangings and Persian carpets,” Mandy said mischievously.
“You know what she means, Mandy,” Merrie piped in as she finished the last of her cake. “We aren’t even allowed to date. One of my friends thinks our father is nuts.”
“Merrie!”
“It’s okay, he’s from Wyoming,” Merrie said, grinning. “He’s in private school up north somewhere, but he visits a cousin here during the summer. His name is Randall. He’s really nice.”
“Don’t you dare,” Mandy began.
“Oh, it’s not like that. We’re just friends.” She emphasized the word. “He goes through girls like some people go through candy. I’d never want somebody like that! But he’s very easy to talk to, and he listens to me. I like him a lot.”
“As long as you don’t tell him things you shouldn’t,” Mandy replied.
Merrie’s eyes fell. “I’d never do that.”
Sari put down her fork with a sigh. “Well, it was a very nice lunch, even if it didn’t come with scores of well-wishers and dancing.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I don’t know how to dance. I’ve never been anywhere that I could learn.”
“We went to that Latin restaurant once, where they had the flamenco dancers,” Merrie said, tongue in cheek.
“Oh, sure, and I could have gotten up on a table and practiced the steps,” came the sardonic reply.
Suddenly a door slammed. Paul came into the dining room with his hands deep in his pockets. His thick, wavy black hair was damp and there were droplets on the shoulders of his suit coat. “Well, it’s raining,” he sighed. “At least it held off until after the graduation ceremony.”
“At least,” Sari replied. “There’s plenty left.” She indicated the remnants of the lovely meal. “And lots of cake.”
He chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
“About what?” Sari asked.
“You should have gone out with your friends for a real celebration,” he said, dropping into a chair. “With balloons and music and drinks...”
“Drinks?” Sari asked with ra
ised eyebrows. “What are those?”
“I had balloons at my fifth birthday party, when Mama was still alive,” Merrie added.
“Music. Hmm,” Mandy said, thinking. “I went to a concert in the park last week. They had tubas and saxophones...”
Paul threw up his hands. “You people are hopeless!”
“We live in hopeless times,” Sari said. She stood up and adopted a pose. “But someday, people will put aside their differences and raise balloons in tribute to those who have given their all so that we can have drinks and tubas...”
The rest of them started laughing.
She chuckled and sat back down. “Well, it was a nice thought. Daddy doesn’t like us being around normal people, Paul,” she added. “He thinks we’ll be corrupted.”
“That would be a choice,” he replied. “I don’t think you get one if you live here.”
“Shh!” Sari said at once. “Don’t say that out loud or they’ll find you floating down some river in an oil drum!”
His eyes twinkled. “We found a guy like that once, back when I was a kid. Me and some other guys were goofing off near the river, in Jersey, and we saw this oil drum just floating, near the shore. One of the older boys was curious. He and a friend went and pried off the lid.” He made a horrible face. “We set new land speed records getting out of there! It was a body inside!”
“Did you get the police?” Merrie asked curiously.
He gave her a long look. “Honey, if we’d done that, we’d probably have ended up in matching oil drums ourselves! You don’t mess with the mob.”
“Mob? You mean, real mob...mobsters?” Merrie asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “I grew up in a rough neighborhood. Almost all of the kids I knew back then ended up in prison.”
“But not you,” Sari said, with more tenderness in her tone than she realized.
“Not me,” Paul agreed. He smiled. “How about a plate?” he asked Mandy. “I’ve fought traffic all the way from San Antonio and I’m starved!”
“You had the nice big breakfast that I made you this morning,” Mandy taunted.
“Yeah, but all of it got used up listening to that guy who spoke at Sari’s graduation ceremony. Who was he again?” he teased.
