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"Fighting fit." She patted the space next to her. "Darling, I know Brady spent the night, did anything happen?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She muttered. "I still can’t believe we’re really going through with this. That you would ask me to do something like this."
"I’m doing it because I love you." She was told airily.
Macayla waited until Jane had brought the juice and left before commenting.
"That's not love. You’re doing it for your own satisfaction."
Picking up her cup of herbal tea, she took a sip and eyed her daughter over the gold rim. "And yours. You can’t sit there and tell me it was a boring job. Brady Randall happens to be quite a stud. Even better looking than his Dad and that's saying a lot. The fact he spent the night means that-"
"We did it!" She took a gulp of the freshly squeezed orange juice and almost choked on it. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Darling, that's wonderful." Michelle's golden-brown eyes glowed in pleasure. "I suppose it’d be in bad taste to ask how it went?"
"Extremely bad taste. You’re my mother and this is weird, to say the least."
"Darling, we’ve always been open and honest with each other."
"Still." Settling back against the cushions, she eyed the slender graceful woman who still had her trademark beauty. "How are you?"
"Chemo is kicking my ass, but I’m coping. Syd spent the night."
"Mom, that's over-sharing."
"Is it?" She smiled gently. "We did nothing but hold each other. I was sick for a little bit and he was there to wipe away the vomit." Her expression softened. "And he apologized."
"For?"
"The wasted years. He keeps doing that." She gave a philosophical shrug as she continued to sip her tea to settle her stomach. "I have to admit that when we were younger, I was mad at him for not standing up to that tyrant of a father. I wanted him to leave everything and fight for me."
"Then you both would have suffered as a result." Macayla pointed out. It was still a little strange for her to be discussing her mother's lover with her and not freak out about it, but she’d come to understand the arrangement surrounding them and she happened to like Sydney Randall a lot.
"Yes." Her mother gave her a warm smile. "I wouldn’t have had you." Reaching over, she patted Macayla's hand. "That was my greatest accomplishment."
Macayla felt the tears blurring her vision. "Luckily I’m not wearing makeup." She sniffed. "I thought it would have been your illustrious career."
She waved that away and leaning over, kissed her daughter's cheek. "You know better. Mark was such a good and decent man and I dare say, if he’d lived longer, I might have loved him."
"Daddy was happy."
"I’d like to believe he was." A slight smile played around her lips. "He tried. When we met, I told him the truth about Sydney . He understood and didn’t allow that to stop him from loving me. I made a promise not to cheat on him with Syl." She shrugged slender shoulders. "We’d meet up in public places and-"
"The cabin."
"Yes, but that was after your Dad had died. I’d never disrespect him that way." Her eyes sought Macayla. "I cared deeply for your Dad, he was the best man I’ve ever known and he made me happy. He certainly worked on doing so."
She squeezed Macayla's hand. "When he died, the security I had eroded and I was unhappy. Sydney was still married to that woman and I wanted to try and be happy again."
"Hence the bad decisions in marrying husband one and two."
"Yes." A smile crossed her lips as she looked at her daughter. "Steve was a very weak man who had a roving eye. He was sweet in his own way, but couldn’t resist a beautiful woman. And John-" She shook her head. "He was just plain wrong."
"In every way."
"He tried to proposition you."
"That's putting it politely, Mom." Macayla said dryly. "He had his hand on my thigh right there in the dining room while you were entertaining members of your cast."
