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“Last time I checked, Mom owned this house, not you. She gets to decide who visits, and she never told me I wasn’t welcome, sis.”
A sharp pain went through her jaw, and Taylor relaxed her mouth. Short of murdering someone, Taylor couldn’t think of single thing her sister could do that would cause Mom to bar Eliza from the house. Mom might hate the decisions Eliza had made in life, but she still loved her oldest daughter.
“Do you really think being here when Reese comes home is a good idea?” Highly unlikely, but maybe her sister would use some common sense for her daughter’s sake.
Eliza shrugged, and Taylor knew she wouldn’t like her answer. “Don’t see the big deal. She’s my daughter.”
She saw red when she heard the emphasis Eliza put on “my.” The woman might have carried Reese for nine months, but Taylor was more Reese’s mom than Eliza was. Not once since she’d given up custody had Eliza sent a letter or a card to the little girl. She never called and inquired about her well-being. Instead, she acted like she never had a child. In Taylor’s book that was A-OK. Reese was much better off without Eliza in her life. “Just because you gave birth to her doesn’t mean anything, and you damn well know it.”
“Kind of hard to be a mom when you’re in jail.”
Nope, she wouldn’t let Eliza use that as an excuse. “And whose fault is that, Eliza? No
t mine or Mom’s. They have paper and pens in prison. They let you send letters. You could have kept in contact. And you’ve been out for how long now? A couple years? Yet you never call and ask about her? Even on her birthdays you don’t call.”
“How do you stand always being Little Miss Perfect? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
Eliza had called her the same thing when they were kids. Today it annoyed her just as much as it had back then.
The sound of the front door opening made Taylor’s stomach roll.
“Auntie Taylor, we’re home!” Reese’s voice entered the kitchen before she did.
Both Mom and Reese stopped abruptly when they passed through the doorway.
Reese looked from Taylor to Eliza. Although her lifestyle had taken a toll on Eliza, there was no mistaking the resemblance between the two women. Still silent, she glanced back at her grandmother before looking at Eliza again. “I know you. Mimi has a picture of you in her bedroom next to Auntie’s. You’re Auntie Taylor’s sister.”
Taylor forced herself to remain seated and not whisk Reese out of the room as Eliza smiled once again, revealing her missing teeth.
***
Taking a few steps back, he eyed the end cabinet he’d installed along the outer wall. Satisfied with the way it looked, he glanced toward the boxes containing the ones for the opposite wall. Did he want to start on those now or leave them until Monday? He hadn’t even planned on working in the kitchen today.
When he set his alarm to wake him earlier than normal, he’d planned to tackle the next chapter in his book. Instead, he found himself working in the kitchen. Again.
All week his blank computer screen had tormented him. While it meant he got a lot of extra work done in the kitchen, it didn’t get him any closer to the end of his novel.
He’d suffered writer’s block before, but never like this. Usually a day or two away from his laptop while he engaged in some other activity fixed the problem. A whole week had passed, though, since he last typed a single sentence, and he’d engaged in plenty of other distractions.
This morning’s failed attempt reinforced what he was beginning to suspect. No distraction was going to get his creative juices flowing again. Only coming clean with Taylor and getting rid of his guilt would.
In the beginning, he’d told himself he’d tell her the truth if and when he needed to. His gut told him the time had arrived. Unfortunately, it didn’t tell him anything else—like how to go about doing it or what to expect for a reaction. Repeatedly, his cousin’s words played through his head. “You’re asking for trouble. Take my word for it, women don’t like secrets.”
He’d brushed off both his cousins at the time. Insisted it was no big deal. That everything would be fine. What a damn moron he’d been.
Curt grabbed the utility knife and sliced though the top of another box. Even if he knew how to start, telling her tonight wasn’t an option. Both Priscilla and Reese would be there. Tomorrow was out as well. Taylor had mentioned taking Reese and her friend Hazel to an indoor trampoline park and then to the movies.
Monday. He’d ask her to come by after work. He’d explain that, while he was the author of Fatal Deception like he’d told her, his last name wasn’t Hilton but Sherbrooke. He’d tell her why he’d kept the truth from her and answer any questions she had. Well, he would if she gave him opportunity. Honestly, Curt wasn’t sure Taylor would stick around long enough. He could clearly picture her telling him to go to hell and walking out the door. It would suck if she did, because he cared about her. For him it wasn’t all about the phenomenal sex, although it was a definite perk. A connection existed between them, one he suspected could easily develop into much more, given time.
He reconsidered his decision. The longer he waited, the worse it’d be.
“At this point, what’s two more days?” He guessed he’d find out soon enough.
Chapter Ten
When he let Taylor and her family in several hours later he still hadn’t gotten any work on the book done, but he had made significant progress in the kitchen. He considered that a Saturday well spent.
“Curt, we have Boston cream pie and two kinds of ice cream. Mimi and I made the pie from scratch.” Reese held up the plate she carried for his inspection.
