Page 80 of Just Trouble

“He did?”

“He did.” My father takes a long drink of his coffee. “And I was disinclined to agree with him, at least before I arrived on Friday morning and realized that Luke Jones perhaps knew more about my daughter than I’d guessed.” His eyes are sparkling and I’m mortified. “I went to see Patrick that morning, instead of coming here for breakfast, and he agreed to sell me that property.”

“Because he thought you were right?” I realize that it wouldn’t have mattered if Mike told Patrick about Luke breaking into the house, since by then, Patrick didn’t own it.

I look down. I did, though only my dad knew as much at the time. Patrick thought my dad owned it.

My dad shrugs. “I think he was looking forward to Luke returning to him to ask for it again, and being able to say that he no longer owned it.” He becomes serious. “Patrick is not aneasy client, but he’s a good one. He generates a lot of revenue and he pays his bills on time. It’s not always easy to remember which side my bread is buttered on, but overall, ours has been a profitable relationship.”

I caress the envelope. “I thought women only needed husbands.”

My dad chuckles. “Maybe in Patrick’s world.”

“What about Margaret’s house? Luke wanted that for Abbie.”

My dad frowns. “That will be a more difficult achievement. This property was disposable to Patrick. He doesn’t care about it either way. But Margaret’s house is very important to him, as he grew up there himself.”

“Why wouldn’t he want someone living there, then, someone like Abbie?”

Our meals come and we fall silent for a moment, waiting for the waitress to leave again. “The thing you must understand about Patrick is that he loves control. He wants everyone to defer to him about everything. For me, that’s comparatively easy. I just call him about every decision, no matter how small, and this makes him happy. For his kids, that’s tougher. Of course, they want some autonomy. Of course, they might wish for a few crumbs to fall from his table. I think he wants them to ask, or even to beg.”

“I think Abbie knows that.”

“Which might be why she never came back. But the very fact that she didn’t come back means that he sees her as beyond his control. He doesn’t suffer that circumstance well, so he won’t be generous to her. She would have to come back and defer to him.”

“And even then, it might not matter,” I conclude. I can’t see Abbie doing that, either way.

“Exactly. I’ll try to nudge him on that, but I can’t make any promises, Daphne.”

“Bread and butter,” I say with a smile and he smiles back.

He taps the envelope with a fingertip. “I didn’t realize how much of Patrick’s view I’d taken onboard, not until Luke challenged me. I’m sorry, Daphne. Of all people, I should have recognized that you needed more than I was offering.”

I grip his hand and thank him and he beams at me. My throat is tight with relief and excitement, and the awareness that Luke has provoked a change in my life that I won’t soon forget.

I wantto tell Luke but there’s no chance. I get back to another lot of questions from the feds and I work though lunch to get it sorted. I see him drive off in Merrie’s Jeep in the afternoon but don’t see him come back.

I know he’ll be on time, though. I leave the office early so that I can have a shower and change before six. I’m jumpy with excitement and anticipation.

I arrive home to find Sylvia on my porch. She has a stubborn look about her, as if she’ll wait through the end of time to have her say.

“What’s up?” I ask, fingering my keys as I stand on the steps. I have very mixed feelings about her seeking me out. I don’t want to think about her and Luke together, even sixteen years ago. I don’t really want to think about the complications that are likely to ensue. I want my date night, plain and simple.

“What do you know about it?” Sylvia asks.

“Luke said he seduced you and you left town.” I shrug.

Sylvia smiles and looks across the lawn. “Did he tell you he was drunk?”

“He implied that he might have been. Something about Jägermeister.”

“Lots of it,” Sylvia said. She pats the bench beside herself, her manner so inviting that I have a better feeling about the whole thing. I sit beside her, putting my bag on the porch. I’m expecting her to tell me something I don’t know but she still astonishes me. “I was pregnant before that night with Luke.”

“What?”

Sylvia nods. “I knew it. Mike and I had been fighting a lot. I wanted –” she sighs “–I wanted him to propose even before I told him. I wanted him to want to marry me without knowing about the baby.” She gives me a look. “Our baby.”

M.C. = Mike Cavendish. I feel stupid for missing it.

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