Delia’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Then I suppose it’s time someone told you. Trudy always insisted she had to protect Ronald from Howard,” Stanley explained. “The old man held the reins of the family business with an iron fist. He hated Trudy and controlled Ronald—except for the one time when your father took a chance and used his trust fund to keep my small press afloat. For that, I shall be eternally grateful.
“You and your sisters were young, innocent children. If Trudy had brought you to meet us and you’d accidentally mentioned it in front of Howard, he probably would have kicked your father out on his ear. Trudy knew how much the business meant to Ronald so she made that sacrifice. So did we. We saw photos, of course. And she told us all about you and the other girls as you grew.”
Stanley hesitated and swallowed hard. “Until one day, shortly after she left your father and we thought we might start seeing more of her, she simply stopped contacting us.”
Tears filled Delia’s eyes. She raised her face to Shaun. He held out his hand, drew her to her feet and took her in his arms.
She didn’t want to give in and weep in front of her grandparents but everything seemed to weigh on her until she was unable to continue fighting her emotions. Her father’s act of kindness had come at a hefty price. Although she was no closer to finding her mother, her new knowledge of her father’s altruism all those years ago did make her see him in a new light. Was it possible that he could one day be that kind of self-sacrificing man again?
Despite this ray of hope, a sense of melancholy settled over her heart. The Blanchards hadn’t been a real family, she concluded. With the exception of her sisters and Winnie, they had been individuals who had simply resided in the same cold mansion. No wonder they all seemed to suffer from various types of social dysfunction. It was a wonder any of them even approached normalcy!
Delia’s tears flowed in spite of her efforts to stifle them. What must Shaun be thinking? She wouldn’t blame him if he was counting his blessings over the annulment of their marriage. Who would want to become part of a family like hers?
Shaun didn’t know what to say so he kept silent. Delia’s shoulders were shaking. He gently rubbed her back as he held her close.
True to their generational and cultural differences, Stanley was standing behind Eleanor and had merely laid his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she sobbed. Shaun could tell that the older man was fighting tears, too.
Poor Delia. And poor Trudy. He’d grown up an only child but he couldn’t imagine Genie being so jealous that she’d imprison her sibling, let alone keep her locked away for so many years. The most astonishing part was that she’d gotten away with it. In any normal family, surely somebody would have sounded an alarm and ended the nightmare before a whole life was wasted.
Delia had been resting her palms on his chest. Now, she gave a faint push and Shaun loosened his hold.
“Better?” he asked.
“I—I want to go,” she managed between shaky breaths.
“All right.” Arm around her shoulders, Shaun guided her toward the door, then paused to speak to their host and hostess while Delia fished in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose.
“We’ll be back when everybody has calmed down,” Shaun said. “I promise. In the meantime, if either of you think of any connection to Cymbeline other than Shakespeare, please let us know.”
Stanley nodded. “Of course. Take care of our girl.”
“I will,” Shaun assured him. He meant it. He just didn’t know what to do next. Obviously, neither did Delia. He could understand her desire to get away from everybody and everything. He only hoped that desire for solitude included him.
He guided her down the stairs and out the front door then paused on the porch of the inn while she donned dark glasses. “I think I should drive, don’t you?”
“I’m perfectly…” Her statement was interrupted by a loud hiccup, followed quickly by a sniffle and capitulation. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. You drive. We can come back for my car later.”
“Stay right there. I’ll get the truck,” he said.
Keeping an eye on her to make sure she was going to do as he’d suggested, he strode around the edge of the inn’s porch, then broke into a jog once he could no longer see her. The sooner he got her into his truck and out of there, the sooner she’d recover.
If she ever did, he added wryly. He couldn’t imagine what must be going through Delia’s head right now but it couldn’t be good. He hadn’t wanted her maternal grandparents to be guilty of conspiracy but it sure would have been easier if they had been. At least then they’d know who, besides Dr. Brooks, had abetted Genie all these years and they could have put that question to rest.
They?
Yes, they. Shaun snorted derisively. He didn’t know when he had begun thinking of Delia and himself as a single unit, as a couple, but that’s what he was now doing. Her problems were his problems. Her sadness was his. And her eventual triumph, assuming they did locate her mother, was going to be shared, too.
He couldn’t picture it any other way.
“I want to go by the factory,” Delia said as Shaun chauffeured her past the theater and quaint shops in downtown Stoneley.
His head snapped around. “Blanchard Fabrics? Why?”
“I don’t know, exactly. I just have this urge to go there.”
“I’d think that would be the last place you’d want to go, considering the state of mind you’re in right now.”
“I’m okay—although my emotions are all over the place. A part of me is really proud of Father for helping out Stanley and Eleanor all those years ago. Yet, at the same time, it makes me unbearably sad that Mother chose to cut herself off from her parents for Father’s sake. I think both my parents made some bad mistakes. That just means they’re human. We all are.”
“You’re a lot more forgiving than I am.”
“Not really. I’m at the end of my rope, Shaun. I’ve been so angry and so confused for so long I guess I’m tired of fighting. Father is Father. He is what he is, even if I don’t respect the man he’s become.”
Pensive, she sighed and stared out the window at the passing scene for a few moments before she added, “My father, like my grandfather, has squandered his happiness while hoarding the earthly riches he thought were important.
Now that he’s broken up with Alannah, maybe that means he’s seeing the error of his ways.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little late?”
“No. It won’t be too late until he takes his last breath,” Delia said wisely.
“I disagree. There’s too much water under the bridge, as folks say.”
The same is true of our relationship, she thought sadly. That’s what you’re really trying to tell me, isn’t it, Shaun? Well, I understand. And in a way, I agree. The innocence and pure love we once shared has been destroyed beyond repair and there’s not a thing either of us can do about it except go on with our lives and learn from the experience, sad as it was.
Sighing, she forced a smile. “Water under the bridge? Maybe that’s why I love the ocean so much. Water from all the little streams eventually flows into it and is cleansed in the vast, open sea.”
“Cleansed of pollution?”
“No, silly. That was an analogy, not science. What I meant was, our petty problems are really nothing when you consider them against the immeasurable distances and beauty of the universe.”
“That’s not a reference to science, either, is it?”
She shook her head, her smile blossoming. “No. It’s more theology. I can’t explain why, but I can’t look at the sky or the sea without thinking of God. I suspect most people feel that way, even if they choose to deny it. Pastor Greg says there’s a God-shaped hole in everyone’s soul that needs filling. Some people fill it with God. Others keep searching all their lives and never find peace.”
“I know lots of so-called Christians who aren’t happy,” Shaun countered.
“So do I,” Delia said. “Like Father, they’re still human, but you never know what they might have been like if they hadn’t decided to follow Jesus Christ. I know it’s made a difference in my life, even if I haven’t been nearly as faithful as I should have.”
“What about your grandfather? Howard Blanchard was supposed to have been a pillar of the church at one time. Surely, you aren’t trying to tell me that he’s a true believer.”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “A couple of my sisters seem to think so but it’s not my place to judge. I have enough trouble taking care of my own spiritual life without trying to police someone else’s.”
She saw Shaun’s eyebrows arch before he said, “I suppose you’re right. Like they used to say in the army, ‘Let God sort ’em out.’”
His statement reminded her of war and gave her sudden chills. “Did you ever kill anyone in battle, Shaun?”
He answered, “No,” but judging by the way his hands were gripping the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched, Delia knew there had to be more to it than he was revealing. He had told her about being issued a gun and being taught to shoot. She didn’t recall him mentioning actually going into combat but considering the kind of upheaval the world was in these days, he might easily have been deployed.
Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about his military service. Well, fine. Let him play the closemouthed, stalwart hero if he wanted. She wasn’t going to keep her ideas to herself just because Shaun chose to hide his feelings. He might not appreciate her concern and willingness to help but she certainly appreciated his.
That was why she’d asked him to drive her to Blanchard Fabrics instead of going there later by herself. Though she saw no reason to spell it out for him, she wanted Shaun by her side when she entered the lion’s den. Although her faith was getting stronger every day she worked to find her missing mother, she was far from being as close to God as the prophet Daniel had been in the Old Testament.
It took a lot less courage for Delia to ride thirty-foot breakers on a surfboard than it did to simply visit her father’s office.
THIRTEEN
Blanchard Fabrics, both the plant and corporate offices, was located in an outlying part of town that was almost exclusively industrial. The redbrick building looked antiquated on the outside but had a modern interior. The factory part of the operation had always been kept up-to-date. When Ronald had finally taken over from Howard, Delia had heard he’d brought in the latest in office technology, too. Juliet had told her that walking in the front door was like stepping forward a full century.
Delia paused at the entrance.
Shaun gently touched her elbow. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s definitive.”
She had to chuckle. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“Care to tell me what we’re doing here?”
“I think I was going to face my father and tell him about what we learned from Eleanor and Stanley.”
“You’re not sure?” Shaun was giving her a lopsided smile and his comical expression made Delia laugh again.
“No, I’m not sure. But then, I come from a family of pretty confused individuals so that shouldn’t surprise you.”
“Nothing you do surprises me much,” Shaun said. His grin spread. “Well, except maybe the stories about swimming with sharks.”
“Hah! That’s the easy part of my life. Trying to make sense of my relationship to my father is the hard part.”
“You don’t have to rush things, you know. You could wait till he gets home and talk to him there.”
Yes, but then you wouldn’t be with me, Delia countered without voicing her thoughts. Instead, she said, “Let’s stop and say hello to Juliet first. That should relax me.”
“Fine.” Shaun pushed open the outer door.
Delia couldn’t help but be impressed by the modernization she found inside. “Wow. Juliet wasn’t kidding when she said this place had been fixed up.”
“Yeah.” Shaun leaned close to speak more privately. “Dad would say it’s like gilding the lily but personally, I think it’s high time Blanchard Fabrics stepped into the future. Stoneley would be in real trouble if this business ever failed.”
“I know. Supporting a whole town is an awesome responsibility if you stop and think about it. No wonder Father is so intense about his work.” She paused and smiled at Shaun. “Of course, there is the money, too.”
“Buckets of it, judging by the way he lives.”
“I did have everything I wanted when I was a child.”
“Except a mother,” Shaun reminded her.
Delia’s smile faded. “Yes. Except my mother. Come on. Juliet’s cubicle is in marketing. We’ll pop in and surprise her.”
Juliet jumped out of her chair and greeted Delia with a squeal of delight and a hug. “Come in, come in—if you can find room.” She eyed Shaun. “Hi, handsome. You still hanging around my sister?”
Delia gasped and blushed. “Juliet!”
“Just wondered. Seems to me you and Shaun have been spending a lot of extra time together. You won’t tell me what’s been going on so I figured I’d ask him.”
“We’re just friends,” Shaun said amiably as he shouldered into the cramped space. “Nice little place you have here.”
“Cubicle, Sweet Cubicle,” Juliet quipped. She swiveled her computer chair and gestured toward it. “Have a seat, Delia. What brings you to beautiful Blanchard Fabrics? We don’t make those gaudy Hawaiian prints you love, so I know it can’t be that.”
“Well, you can’t be expected to do everything perfectly this far north,” Delia replied. “Actually, we were in town because I just visited our new grandparents.”
“Really? How are they? Aunt Winnie has invited them to the house for dinner more than once but they’ve always made excuses. I’m surprised they welcomed you. They did, didn’t they?” She peered at Delia, then frowned at Shaun. “You kind of look like you’ve been crying.”
Delia sighed. “I have. But not because of anything the Halls did. They were wonderful, even after I accused them of helping Genie keep our mother from us.”
“You what?” The younger girl plunked into the only other chair, ignoring the fact it was draped with fabric swatches. “What made you do that?”
Delia quickly related her conversation with Dr. Brooks and her discovery in the mental hospital financial records.
“So, when I saw the name Cymbeline Corporation,” she said in conclusion, “I got the idea that the Halls might be involved because of the Shakespearian connection.”
“Cymbeline Corporation?” Juliet’s voice was barely a breath.
“Yes. Have you heard of it?”
“For some reason it rings a bell.” Scowling, she jumped to her feet. “Change chairs with me so I can use the computer. I want to look something up.”
Delia stood shoulder to shoulder with Shaun and watched her youngest sister’s fingers fly over the keyboard.
“It was just a couple of weeks ago,” Juliet said as she typed. “I probably wouldn’t have noticed the name if it hadn’t been Shakespearean.” She was paging down at a dizzying rate while Delia and Shaun leaned closer and tried to follow what she was doing.
Suddenly, she shouted, “Got it!” and hit the key to display the full file.
Delia was glad Shaun was beside her to steady her because she began to feel dizzy. The screen blurred. She blinked to clear her vision. She couldn’t believe it, yet there it was, for all the world to see.
Cymbeline Corporation was an obscure branch of a well-known parent company. Blanchard Fabrics.
Delia was too shocked to cry. Too furious to speak. She glanced at Shaun and saw the muscles of his beard-shadowed jaw clenching. It was at times like these that his dark, fast-growing beard gave his face an almost sinister aspect. That, and the anger so clearly displayed in the steely blue of his eyes, accentuated his rage.
“Your father again,” he whispered hoarsely
.
Delia nodded miserably, realizing she’d been a fool to be swayed by her father’s one act of kindness all those years ago. Once again, he’d shown his true colors. She reached for Juliet’s hand and held it tightly. “We must keep this quiet until we can speak with Father in private. Can you do that?”
The blond girl nodded. “Yes. Of course. I can tell Brandon, can’t I? He and I don’t have any secrets from each other.”
Delia nodded. She was beginning to regain her equilibrium and think more clearly. “By all means. I’ll call a family meeting for tonight, after supper.” She eyed the computer. “Can you make me a printout of that page? I want something on paper.”
“Sure.” Juliet printed the information and handed it to her sister.
“Now what?” Shaun asked. “Are you going to go to your father’s office?”
“I’m not sure what I should do. As angry as I am, I might say something I’d be sorry for later.” She noticed that the paper she held was quivering. “I can wait. I have to wait. My sisters and Aunt Winnie and the Halls have as much right to hear what Father has to say as I do.”
She gazed up at him, her emotions totally exposed. “Will you come tonight, too, Shaun?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes. Very much. You deserve to hear this.”
He nodded solemnly. “All right. What time?”
“Around seven.” She scanned the short walls enclosing Juliet’s cubicle and realized that, although she hadn’t noticed anyone else occupying the adjoining spaces when they’d arrived, someone might be in a position to be listening now.
“Let’s go out to your truck so I can use my cell phone in private,” Delia said. “After I make a few calls I’ll know more.” She patted her baby sister on the shoulder. “Will you be all right if we leave you alone?”
“I’m going to Brandon’s office. I won’t be alone.” Juliet stood and hugged Delia. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For digging until you got to the truth.”
“We still don’t know exactly what that truth is,” Delia cautioned, keeping her voice down. “Father could be innocent.”
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