My Biggest Mistake

by Lisa Lace

  “What have you told her about this…arrangement?”

  “What arrangement?” Elise offers me a knowing look, then continues. “Dayna’s heard the same story as everyone else. We hated each other on first meeting, but once you tried to make amends, love blossomed.”

  We’re driving out of the main city now. I stop at a red light, my blinker clicking as I wait to turn left. “How come I’m the bad guy in this story?” I say. “I think you should have been the one making amends.”

  “I wasn’t the asshole.”

  I laugh. “The love of my life—she calls me out on my bullshit.”

  Elise grins. “You’re damned right, I do.”

  After I drop Elise off at Dayna’s, I return home where Alice is waiting with Grace. She prepares dinner, and we eat together before Grace goes into one of the living rooms to watch a movie, leaving Alice and I alone cleaning up.

  “How did the press conference go?” she asks, as she loads dishes into the dishwasher. “Are you happy with how it went this time?”

  I smile. “Very happy. Elise is a natural at being interviewed. God knows how she makes it look so easy. I hate it. I always feel like I’m being interrogated rather than interviewed.”

  “You managed to explain to everyone, then, how this all came about so quickly?” She’s avoiding my eye but listening intently for my answer.

  I put down the dishcloth and turn to face her. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  Alice lets out a long breath and closes the dishwasher slowly. She leans back against the counter with her hands tucked under her arms, and finally meets my gaze. “I’m worried, Rory.”

  “About what?”

  “About this whole thing you’ve got going on with this woman you’ve just met.” She pauses. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but I care about Grace more than you know, and I just want to make sure this woman is going to be good for her.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Has she done something to make you think she wouldn’t be?” I imagine Elise secretly interviewing Grace behind my back, digging for the scoop. The idea makes my ears burn with anger.

  “No, no, no, nothing like that,” Alice says quickly. “In fact, Grace absolutely adores her, and that’s what I’m worried about.” She looks up at me with concern. “I’m not blind, Rory. I know all about the case with Margot and the reasons why a judge might look more favorably upon her than you. I know having the perfect family home seems like the ideal solution, but what happens if you win the case? What happens if you win custody of Grace? What happens then? Will Elise be out the door? I’m worried this situation is going to end up breaking Grace’s heart. She’s never had a mother figure in her life before. She’s going to get attached.”

  I feel a stab of guilt in my chest. I’ve hardly even thought about what happens after the case. I shove my hands in my pockets and look down at the ground. “I hear what you’re saying, Alice.”

  “Do you? Because I’ve got to be honest—I’m not convinced you love this woman. I think you’re using her as an easy fix for a problem that’s spinning out of your control.”

  “Even if I was, what alternative do I have?” I meet Alice’s judging stare with a stern stare of my own. “If I don’t do something to make this home look like the better option for Grace, they’re going to take her away from me. You’ve never met Margot, Alice. She won’t care for Grace. She’ll use her like she’s using her now. Grace is her meal ticket, that’s all. I won’t let my daughter fall into the hands of an opportunist like that. She deserves better. She deserves to be loved.”

  “But Rory—”

  “Alice. I’d rather Grace has to cope with me breaking up with Elise than spend the next eleven years with a mother who doesn’t give a shit about her. It’s the lesser of two evils.”

  Elise

  There’s not much to gather. One of my summer scarves is in Dayna’s room from where she borrowed it for a work event a couple of weeks ago, and I’m still missing one shoe that I can’t find for love nor money, but everything else is packed and ready to go.

  Dayna follows me from room to room like a worried mother hen. Her face has been creased and concerned the whole time I’ve been packing. She’s restless. I can tell she’s holding her tongue.

  By the time I’m sweeping my toiletries into a bag, she breaks.

  “You can’t marry that man, Elise.”

  I turn over my shoulder and smile at her. “Why not?”

  “You hardly know him. And you hated him at first. What has it been? A few weeks, a month? This is insane.”

  I shrug. “What can I say? I love him.”

  “You can’t fall in love that quickly.”

  “Of course, you can. People do it all the time.” I carry my bag of toiletries downstairs to shove into my carryall with everything else. “Didn’t you once tell me your great-grandfather proposed to your great-grandmother after one date?”

  “Yes, but that was in the 1940s, and he was about to go to war.”

  “When you know, you know.”

  “Can I be frank with you?”

  I turn and sit on the sofa. She takes a seat beside me and puts her hand gently on my knee. Her expression is full of concern and love for me.

  “Go ahead,” I prompt.

  “I’m not saying you’re marrying him for his money. Please don’t think that’s what I’m saying, but…” She bites down on her lip. “Things have been tough for you lately, and God knows being married to a billionaire would solve a lot of problems for you. I know you’d do anything to take care of your mom.”

  “Rory doesn’t even know about my mom or the care home.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I wouldn’t want him to think what you’re thinking right now—that I’m marrying him for a cash-out. I really do love him, Dayna.”

  She throws her hands up in the air, and her voice becomes a desperate whine. “How? How can you love a man you hardly know? He’s a jerk. You said so yourself. You published an article on how much of an ass this guy is. Now you want to marry him? Explain it to me, because I really don’t get it.”

  I lean back and think of what to say. As I picture Rory, a silly little smile comes to my face. “I don’t know, Dayna…he’s sweet, and kind.”

  “That’s not what you said in Us Weekly.”

  “I was wrong. I know I said he was arrogant and entitled, but it’s all an act.” I lean forward onto my knees, closing my eyes and seeing Rory; that sparkle he gets in his eye when he’s trying to one-up you, the little smile he tries to hide when he’s winding you up with some sarcastic comment, the way the mask falls off completely when he actually opens up… “He’s a very sweet man who's had a hard life. That life has just given him a few rough edges, that’s all.”

  “Just what exactly is sweet about Rory Everest?”

  “He’s a wonderful father.”

  “So?”

  “I admire him for it. You should see him with his daughter and see the way she looks at him. There’s this incredible bond there, something really magical. Plus, he’s sincere.”

  “Sincere?”

  “Yes. It’s hard to break through that barrier he puts up, but once you’re through, you get the truth. He’s told me things about his life I know he doesn’t tell everyone. He wants to be seen. He wants to be loved for everything he is, not just the man he portrays. And, I do love him for everything he is.”

  As I say the words, I know they’re true. Rory Everest, as much of an antagonist as he might be, makes my heart race every time I see him. He challenges me, he inspires me, and he tears me out of my comfort zone. Most importantly, he respects me.

  “You’ve got no idea how loyal he is.” I push my hair back over my shoulder so I don’t catch it in the zipper of my carryall as I close the bag. “He really fights for the people he loves, and for people he doesn’t even know. You know, I found out from Charlotte the other day that he offers thirty scholarships a year to underprivileged kids
. Can you believe that? And every summer, he takes five of those kids on for a fully paid internship. And I mean well-paid, not some crappy stipend like you usually get with that kind of thing. He takes care of them.”

  “Big whoop,” Dayna retorts cynically. “If I was a billionaire, I could throw money around, too. What would those scholarships be as a percentage of his salary, hmm? It’s no different than me putting ten bucks into the charity bucket at the mall.”

  “It’s not about offering money, it’s about offering opportunities. Charlotte also told me about the time he bought a kid a laptop. Rory was giving a talk at the local library and saw a kid using the computer there. Turns out, his parents couldn’t afford a desktop at home, and the kid was trying to do his homework. Rory bought him a brand new laptop before he left. And it doesn’t ever get advertised or promoted. If he showed off all the generous things he does, he’d have a very different image in the media.”

  “Then why doesn’t he?”

  I smile. “Because he’s not like that. If he did it for the publicity, it would cheapen the gesture. Rory does things because he means them. He might come across as a jerk in papers and magazines, but that’s only because he doesn’t flaunt his good deeds. I respect him for that.”

  “And Charlotte told you all this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why doesn’t Charlotte marry him? She seems to think the sun shines out his—”

  “I love him, Dayna.” The zipper of my carryall catches, and I stand up with it in my hand. “We’re good for each other.”

  She looks down at the ground, rubbing her arm. “Look, I know Michael can be pretty harsh. The walls are thin here, I know. But he doesn’t mean anything he says. We both want you to stay.”

  “Oh, Dayna.” I pull her into a hug. “This has nothing to do with you and Mike. I swear to you, I’m not marrying Rory to sort out my debts or pay for my mom’s care. I’m marrying him because life is better with him in it. I care about him.”

  She tears up. “Do you really promise?”

  “I promise.” I rub her back kindly. “I want to marry Rory. I’d marry him if he didn’t have a cent to his name.”

  Dayna smiles. “You really do love him?”

  “I really do.”

  “Then I’m happy for you.” She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. “We’re going to miss you around here, but if you’ve truly fallen in love, then I wish you nothing but the best.”

  I’m feeling emotional, too. The reality of what I’m doing sinks in. From tonight, I’ll be living in that huge, extravagant house with Rory, his daughter, and his housekeeper. I’ll be risking everything to play the part of the perfect wife and stepmother. I’m swapping the harsh realities of my real life for a beautiful fantasy.

  But none of it’s real.

  “I’ve got one more thing to ask you.”

  Dayna wipes her eyes and nods. “Anything.”

  “Will you be my maid of honor?”

  Dayna grins, wiping at her cheeks again. “Of course!”

  Rory

  I’m just finishing getting dressed for the day when Elise pops her head around the bedroom door. “I’m going out for a while.”

  “Where?” I hop on one foot, trying to pull my sock on and follow her into the hall at the same time.

  She shrugs. “Out.”

  “Is it somewhere you don’t want me to know about?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why all the secrecy?”

  “There’s no secrecy. I’m just going out.”

  I stand to face her, my voice growing stern. “Are you putting in a story about us? I swear, Elise, if you’re seeing your editor with a scoop, I’m going to—”

  Elise looks horrified. She spins on her heel and glares at me. “Jesus Christ, Rory! No, I’m not going to put in my scoop. What’s with the paranoia?”

  “Then where are you going?”

  She takes in a deep breath, shuts her eyes, and exhales slowly. “To see my mother.”

  “Oh.” I frown. “Why are you being so hush-hush about it?”

  “No reason.”

  “I’d better come with you.”

  Elise frowns. “What? Why?”

  “I should really meet her before the wedding, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I take a few steps closer to where Elise has come to a still in the hall. She’s wearing a red tea dress with a print of little white flowers and a white cardigan. Her hair is in one fat braid over her shoulder. She’d look cute if not for the exasperation in her expression.

  “Haven’t you told her yet?”

  Elise’s chin wobbles. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she wouldn’t understand.”

  “We’ve managed to explain it to everyone else—”

  She holds up a hand. “I don’t mean it like that. I mean, she wouldn’t understand the words I was saying. She’s got Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t even know who I am, Rory. You coming along would just confuse things.” Elise’s voice trembles. “She won’t understand.”

  I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have pushed things. Now I’m the jerk who bullied Elise until she was on the verge of tears.

  “I never knew your mother was ill.”

  Elise wraps her cardigan tightly around herself and lifts her chin defiantly. “I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I take care of my mom. She’s my responsibility. I look after her.” Elise’s voice becomes high-pitched with emotion. “I do what I have to so she’s looked after, but I won’t ask for money. If you knew, you’d try to throw money at it like you always do, and I’m not some charity case, no matter how little you might think of me.”

  I’m speechless. I take another step closer, but this time to pull Elise into a hug. It’s not usually my instinct to hold someone who’s upset, but I can’t bear to see Elise in pain, and it’s my first instinct to gather her into my arms.

  “I still want to come see her.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s your mom.”

  “So? Who is she to you? Really?”

  I choose my words carefully. “Who is Grace to you?” I clear my throat. “Elise, we’re meant to be playing a family. That means you care about Grace, and I care about your mom. That’s the deal. Let me meet her. Please.”

  “Fine.” She storms ahead, only pausing to call back over her shoulder. “If you’re coming, then you can drive.”

  The nursing home is called Cedar Manor, but it’s hardly a manor. The place looks like a former prison, except worse because nobody’s maintaining it. There are weeds growing up the side of the building and graffiti on the brickwork. One of the windows is boarded up. I would think it was abandoned if there weren’t cars in the parking lot and the faces of miserable old folks staring hopelessly out the window.

  Elise doesn’t get out of the car straight away. She swallows a few times and blinks back tears. She speaks in a soft, guilty voice. “This is all I could afford, okay?”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  “I didn’t want to put her here, but it already takes everything I earn. Plus, my dad left us with debts…This is the best I could do.”

  I reach out to take her hand. “It’s all right.”

  “No. No, it’s not.” She pushes open the car door and steps out, then strides ahead into the nursing home. She’s trying to avoid looking at me and seeing my reaction as I enter the building.

  It’s probably for the best that she looks away because I’m horrified. The white linoleum floors are grubby. Little balls of dust roll along the skirting boards. The whole place smells of urine, and there are elderly people in wheelchairs who are just abandoned in the halls, their wheelchairs at odd angles with the walls. As we walk past them, they continue to stare straight ahead of them, as if we are not there. It gives me chills, and I can’t look at them, whet
her out of pity or awkwardness, I’m not sure.

  Someone’s tried to make the sickly mint-green walls looks better by painting over the dirty marks, except the shade is slightly different, so all the walls are a patchwork of equally disgusting shades of green paint. A janitor’s trolley is left outside of the reception desk with no janitor in sight, the mop and bucket filthy with stinking grayish water.

  Elise goes straight to room 44F, knocks, and enters without waiting for a response. Her mother is sitting in a chair by the window, staring out over the parking lot with distant eyes. She doesn’t look as we enter. It’s as if we haven’t.

  The room is small and drab, and there’s a lingering smell of dust and mustiness like something damp had been left somewhere in the room to rot. The walls in here are a dirty baby pink. And the rest of the décor is void of personality, including a bedside lamp with a pink-suede shade and an ugly portrait of dull flowers above her chest of drawers. There’s a bed in the center of the room and a few items of furniture; a closet, a chest of drawers, and a dressing table. There’s an over-bed table on wheels in one corner with a slice of this morning’s toast still on it, the pale butter oily and congealing.

  She’s younger than I expected, although she looks old. Her brown hair has wisps of gray in it. It’s been brushed, but not styled, leaving it bushy and wild. There are crows’ feet around her eyes, giving her the appearance of someone who used to laugh a lot. Now she just looks tired. She’s wearing a pair of gray slacks and a loose cotton T-shirt with butterflies on it.

  “Hi, Mom. How are you doing today?” Elise approaches her and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Her mother doesn’t respond in any way—her eyes don’t even blink.

  Elise looks back over her shoulder at me. “Her name’s Kaitlyn.” She turns back to her mother. “Mom? This is Rory. Can you see him?”

  I go over to her and kneel in front of her, taking her hand gently in mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sawyer.”

  Kaitlyn smacks her lips together and pulls her hand away, returning her gaze out the window without really registering that we’re here.