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Then there was Ryan. I wished I knew how that pregnancy had progressed. Brad never talked about it. Whenever I brought it up, his response was always, “Daphne, we always said we’d never speak of it again.”
Not speak of my pregnancy?
Seemed like a strange deal to have made, but since I didn’t remember any of it, perhaps I had. I stopped asking after a while. Now that I was facing another pregnancy, though, I needed to know how my last one had gone.
Easy enough. My doctor would have the records. I’d ask him when I went in for my next visit in a few weeks. Until then, I’d enjoy the beginning of summer.
The beginning of a new life growing inside me.
The deli owner’s daughter opened the door to the shop and looked around.
She’d been gone a long time. Everything seemed in order, and she smiled, touching her belly. Daphne’s child grew within her, but her main duty was to Daphne herself.
Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”
Daphne would never ask her doctor for the medical records concerning Ryan’s pregnancy. The deli owner’s daughter would make sure of it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Brad
Joe and Bryce Simpson had been the best of friends since Tom and Evelyn Simpson had moved back to Snow Creek a few years after Tom had finished law school. The boys were around six at the time and went to first grade together.
They’d been drawn to each other like magnet and steel, no pun intended.
I hadn’t been thrilled at first, given my history with Tom and the fact that he’d been in the drug business, but soon the two of them had become inseparable. Once Tom assured me he was out of the drug business for good, I’d given Jonah a little more leeway. Eventually he was accompanying Tom and Bryce on their weekend camping trips more often than not.
Until I put a stop to that.
Joe had raised a ruckus, but I was adamant. He could still hang out with Bryce, still be friends, but the overnight visits were over. A young friend of theirs had drowned on Tom Simpson’s watch several years ago. Was it an accident? Maybe. Maybe not. One thing was certain, though. My son wasn’t doing any more camping trips with the Simpsons.
The son is not responsible for his father’s sins.
My mantra, these days. Bryce needed Joe. He was a good kid.
Besides, I had to believe my mantra, because I had to believe I wasn’t responsible for my own father’s sins.
I’d learned more than I wanted about George Steel in the decade since he’d disappeared, seemingly for good this time.
I’d spent the better part of that decade cleaning up his messes, and he’d left some big ones. Cleaning up after him meant leaving my scruples at the door most of the time.
Damn. That had never been my intention. My intention had been to create a legacy—one built on hard work and integrity—for my own children.
Instead, I’d created one built on secrets, lies, and the occasional crime.
My children would do better. By the time they were ready to take over the family business, I’d see that they’d never have to get their hands dirty.
Then there was Daphne. My Daphne, whom I’d promised to protect no matter the cost.
And the cost had been high so far.
It would only get higher.
Dr. Pelletier and I kept in touch. He no longer saw her for therapy, but I kept him on the payroll just in case I needed him, and there was another reason. I wanted to pay him back for how my father, and then I, had treated him in the past. He truly had helped Daphne. She never knew what her actual diagnosis was. Dr. Pelletier had wanted to tell her, but I’d begged him not to. It would only open a can of worms, which might lead to her discovering what had truly happened to her when she was only sixteen years old.
I couldn’t do that to her.
I just couldn’t.
She loved Ryan as much as the sons from her own body. We agreed never to speak of that time, and though she sometimes asked, I never indulged her.
I relived that time eight years ago more often than I wanted to, and still, I couldn’t regret it.
It had brought me my third son—Ryan favored me but had finer features and slightly lighter eyes and hair than his brothers.
But it had cost me so much in other ways.
Some of which I hadn’t even discovered until recently.
Which gave me another reason to keep Joe from going on sleepovers with Bryce and his father anymore.
Tom, Theo, and Larry had indeed gotten in bed with gangsters. They’d become rich men because of it, and they’d been witness to heinous crimes.
Perhaps even taken part in the crimes, but I chose not to think about that.
