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Her mother shook her head, waving off the tears, waving off falling apart as she’d done for all of Tess’s life. “Don’t. Don’t make me cry.”
Tess sank back against the cushions and fell silent while her mother reclaimed herself. Finally, Maggie tugged her tunic shirt down, breathed deeply, and gave a small smile. “I have to get back to lunch. If I burn the sauce, your grandmother will tell everyone in Golden Oaks. Last time, I got recipe cards from three of the women there.”
Tess tried to smile but the effort fell flat. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
Maggie nodded and walked up the stone pavers toward the grand patio sweeping across the back of the house. Well-maintained flower beds spilled beautiful blooms onto the manicured lawn. Everything was picture-perfect, the absolute best available, marred only by the cancer growing inside the walls her mother entered.
The irony soured Tess’s stomach.
She closed her eyes as if doing so allowed her to close out the world she didn’t want to face.
But that was the problem.
She’d stuck her head in the sand and hoped things like dealing with her father and dealing with what she felt for Graham would go away. Thing was… they hadn’t.
Can’t run from the world, Tess.
She’d have to face her demons, putting one foot in front of the other. The first hurdle she’d face would be her father.
The fact he’d lied to her, even by omission, still hurt. Then fresh pain tumbled in at knowing he’d tried to protect her from her own ego. He’d tried to fix her mistakes before she’d even made them, planning from his grave to take care of Tess. Something about that thought was comforting, and the other half was maddening. He hadn’t had faith in her.
But maybe she’d had too much faith in herself.
She’d never considered her father might be right. So certain she could handle every situation that came up at Ullo, Tess hadn’t accepted any weaknesses in her skill set. But she’d learned very quickly at the smaller Upstart, she had little experience with hammering out contracts, crunching the numbers, dealing with insurance and codes and reviewing the legalities. At Ullo, she’d always handed that stuff over to someone else. Working hard to prove herself, she’d struggled with the nuances in which Monique had expected her to be proficient… the ones Tess had never learned because she’d never had to.
Not to mention she still dealt with hostility from Cecily, blowback from the artists, and delicate intrapersonal relationships with Josh and Monique. The pressure Monique placed on her to bring in new accounts pulled at her day and night.
What would things be like if she’d stayed at Ullo?
Had her pride led her to greater hardship? Had it pointed her in a direction she was never meant to travel?
She didn’t know the answers to any of her own questions, and unfortunately, her mother had been right.
Tess would have to walk the path she’d hacked out of the jungle of life on her own. Any missteps would be her own. Time to own her mistakes, suck it up and move forward. There were no do-overs.
But she could move forward with a better vision, accepting exactly what her mother had said—life isn’t perfect.
To recognize the good, she had to experience the bad.
Tess rose, and like her mother moments ago, straightened her shirt, took a deep breath and gave the world a tremulous smile.
FRANKULLOFORCEDHIMSELFto sit up straight at the dinner table when all he really wanted to do was lie down. Some people who underwent chemotherapy didn’t feel too bad. Some did. He was in the latter category, which made him angry. The least this bastard cancer could do was leave what little he had left of life alone.
His family chattered as if it were just another Sunday. He supposed it was just another Sunday to them, but to him it was the fourteenth Sunday since he found out he was dying. Thinking about the day that way caused an incessant pricking of his conscience.
How many more Sundays did he have?
Looking down the table, Frank settled his gaze on his youngest, who’d been awfully polite and quiet during the meal. He’d seen Maggie take her out for a talk. Part of him resented his wife’s interference, part of him felt relief. He and Tess had gone too long without talking.
She lifted her eyes and caught his gaze. Holding it this time, rather than looking away, her eyes filled with tears. The sight ripped at his heart. Tess dropped her eyes and shoveled her food around on her plate before looking around at her brothers and their wives assembled at the table. The kids were all in the kitchen and the meal had passed without any bickering or spilled iced tea.
Clearing her throat, Tess asked, “Do you guys think I’m difficult?”
His sons stopped eating and looked at their much younger sister.
“What do you mean?” Joseph asked. This son was always calm and reasonable, repressing the dreamer he’d once been.
“I mean, do you guys think I’m hard to deal with?”
