Page 81 of Just Trouble

Sierra isn’t Luke’s daughter.

I’m glad to be sitting down, given the power of my relief.

“We had just fought again when I saw Luke that night. Mike made some comment about Luke being unworthy of being a Cavendish or similar crap. I was already mad at him so I left. And I approached Luke because I was angry, and I went with him, just to be anywhere else. We went to the Foreman place. It was empty and I guess someone was using it to keep a stash of booze. He found the Jäger there, a new bottle. I knew better than to mess with that stuff. It’s fierce.”

I watch her, thinking how weird it is that I own this building now.

Sylvia sighs. “You have to know that I went with Luke because I felt safe with him, and that never changed. He never came on to me, not at all. That’s why when he passed out, I couldn’t leave him there. I managed to get him walking and took him home to Una, because I knew she’d know what to do. He barely made it to the house, but Una made him drink a lot of water then tucked him in on the porch. I went to bed. Alone. Not exactly the prom night of my dreams.” She frowns and I touch her hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. But the worst part was that Mike came around in the morning. He was disappointed that I never showed up at the prom, even though I was supposed to be his date. I was mad that he didn’t miss me enough to even look for me. He came looking for a fight and he found one. We both said a lot of things.” She swallows and looks away, clearly remembering every word.

“There was a lot of resentment between the brothers,” I say, wanting to mitigate this for her.

Sylvia shakes her head. “I know, but that argument helped me decide to leave. I had no idea how hard it would be, but once it was done, it was done. I went to my aunt’s, in Toronto, and she helped me. After she passed away, I just stayed in the city. I never said anything to anyone about that night, not until now and you.”

“But why did you dump the pitcher of water on Luke?”

She smiles. “I thought he was Mike. From behind, they resemble each other. He was sitting with his back to me and I hadn’t seen either of them in years. I just saw red. By the time I realized it was Luke, the pitcher was empty.” She grimaces. “And then when he wanted to give Merrie the chance she’s been dreaming about as long as I’ve known her, I thought, well, what’s the harm in it? Everyone will guess that Sierra is a Cavendish and Mike doesn’t want any part of her. Luke will just leave, so no one will be hurt by letting people believe he’s her father.”

Sylvia shakes her head. “It wasn’t right, Daphne, and I’m ashamed that I ever thought it could be. I just wanted to come home again. I was tired of losing everything because I was ashamed, while Mike stayed here and had everything. I missed Empire and I missed Una and so we came back.” She looks at me. “I never thought he’d offer to pay child support and want to actually become involved. I mean, we’re talking about Luke Jones! He’s supposed to be the irresponsible one!”

“He’s also the one person in Empire who knows what it’s like to have your father deny you,” I remind her gently.

Her eyes widen and her voice drops. “Of course. I never thought of that.”

We look across the lawn together, a poignant silence between us.

“I’m sorry, Daphne. I owe an apology to you and to Luke. I was just thinking of Sierra.” She pauses. “And I was being unkind, without thinking it through.” She holds up an envelope that looks familiar. “I can’t sign this. I can’t accept this. He deserves to know the truth.”

“I’m glad you aren’t going to leave Luke twisting in the wind.”

“Well, that’s the other thing. He’s arranged for me to be here and I could resent that, but I’m so glad we came. Una is stubborn. She never told me about her test results, she never wants to impose, but she really needs us here.”

I smile because Luke is making things right everywhere he goes.

“So, should I tell him?” Sylvia asks. “Or would you like to do the honours?”

“I think you should tell him. You’re the most reliable source of information, after all.”

Sylvia nods but doesn’t move.

I have to ask. “Are you going to tell Mike?”

She grimaces. “He knows. I wrote him, every year at Christmas and on Sierra’s birthdays.” Her throat works. “I sent him pictures and told him about her. I thought that even if he didn’t really love me, he had to love her. She’s so awesome.” Her voice is husky. “But he never even answered me, Daphne. Not one reply in almost sixteen years.”

“Maybe he didn’t get the letters.”

“He got them. I called once and asked the housekeeper. Mrs. Wilson.” Her lips set. “She even told me to stop bothering him, that he had more important things to do.”

“Did you?”

Sylvia’s expression is fierce. “No! I kept writing him. And he kept his silence. So, now, here we are, and we have to figure out how to all live in the same town again.” Her lips tighten. “It’s not going to be easy, but I’m glad to be back. I’ve missed it. And a childhood here was Sierra’s legacy. I gave it up once, but I’m not giving it up again. I’m sick of running and hiding, of being ashamed that I loved so hard and so much that I conceived a child by the man I expected to marry. And if Mike Cavendish has ideas about that, I’ve got some ideas of what he can do with them.”

“If you need any help legally, just let me know.”

“Aren’t you and your dad in Patrick Cavendish’s pocket?”

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