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Chapter Five
“You’re late,” myfather said, entering the large center hall from the back of the house as Tracy closed the front door. He was dressed in black cotton pants and a blue golf shirt, his ample gray hair freshly washed and neatly combed off his forehead.
“Actually, they’re right on time,” Elyse said, her voice so warm and welcoming that it would have been hard for anyone, even my father, to take offense. “Iwas early,” she confided. “I took the bus and I wasn’t sure how long that would take, so I gave myself more than enough time. You must be Tracy.”
“That I am,” my sister acknowledged. “Nice to meet you. Jodi has been singing your praises.”
“And your father has been singing yours. He’s very proud. Of both of you,” Elyse added quickly.
“Is that so?” Tracy raised one beautifully sculpted eyebrow. “How are you doing, Daddy?”
“Very well, thank you,” he told her. “Is that a new dress?”
“Victoria Beckham,” she said, naming the former Spice Girl who had become one of the world’s top fashion designers, and doing a little twirl in place.
I didn’t even want to think how much that dress had cost,although how Tracy spent her money washerbusiness, not mine, I reminded myself. I had no right to be judgmental.
Except, of course, it wasn’t her money. My father covered all her credit card purchases and living expenses. And while I tried not to let that upset me, regularly telling myself that I was in the fortunate position of not having to ask him for money, it still rankled. “Hi, Dad,” I said. “You’re looking quite dapper.” Once again, a return compliment failed to materialize. “How’s Mom today?”
“Same as yesterday and the day before that.”
“She seemed in good spirits,” Elyse said.
“You’ve seen her?”
“Your father gave me a tour of the house and he introduced us. Such a beautiful woman, despite everything. Shall we go into the kitchen and chat?” she asked. “I brought over some brownies I made this morning, and I’ve got a kettle on for some tea.”
“Sounds lovely,” I said. I glanced back at Tracy. The glance said,Could shebeany more fabulous?
We followed my father and Elyse into the all-white gourmet kitchen overlooking the backyard. The garden was in full bloom, with tiers of flowers and blossoming bushes in vibrant shades of coral, red, and pink.
“Oh, good. You’ve opened the pool,” Tracy said, plopping into one of four wicker chairs at the round table in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window. “Maybe I’ll come for a swim on Saturday.”
“Good idea,” I said. “I’ll bring the kids.”
“Howarethose beautiful children?” Elyse asked before my sister could object.
“They’re terrific, thank you.”
My father looked me up and down, his eyes narrowing. “Have you put on a little weight?” he said.
I forced a laugh. “No, Dad. Same as always.”Same asyesterday. And the day before that.“Here, Elyse,” I offered as she was about to pour the boiling water into a china teapot. “Let me help you with that.”
“Absolutely not. You sit down. Everything is ready. We’ll just let the tea steep for a few minutes.”
I glanced at the plate in the middle of the table, feeling my mouth water. “The brownies look wonderful.”
“Let’s hope they’re as good as they look,” Elyse said. “That’s a beautiful blouse,” she told me. “I love a bold print.”
“It’s bold, all right,” Tracy muttered as I took the seat opposite hers.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“Well, bold prints aren’t exactly my style, but it’s very…you.”
I nodded, deciding it was as close to a compliment as I was likely to get.
“Please, everyone. Help yourself to a brownie.” Elyse began pouring the tea into the china cups already laid out.
