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"You stamped on his foot and pushed him so hard; he fell to the ground." It still amused her, even though it’d mortified her that her husband had tried to grab her daughter's thigh in front of company. That had been the last of him. She’d kicked him out that very evening and told him never to come back. "I decided then and there that I was through."
"I guess you had to learn the hard way."
"I did that and managed to upset Syd." Her eyes mirrored her regret. "After Mark died, he begged me to wait for him. I was still pissed and grieving my husband.
I knew that things between him and Eleanor were frosty and it wasn’t a lie when he said there was nothing going on between them, but dammit, he was still with her. That was what I couldn’t understand."
"His father was still alive and would have carried out his threats." Macayla pointed out.
"Precisely what he told me." She sighed and sipped the rest of the tea before putting the cup away. "I couldn’t see past my misery. I’d settled with Mark and was leaning toward happiness when he died. I realized I was still in love with Sydney. Nothing had changed. I was mad at God, wondering why I was in love with this man, one I couldn’t have."
"Now you’re both free to be with each other."
"Now I don't want to get married again." She said with a sigh. "I love that man to pieces and have loved him since I was a young girl and I‘ll love him until I draw my last breath." She looked at her daughter. "That's what I want for you."
"I’m not sure I want anything as consuming as what you feel for Sydney. I don't want to lose myself-"
"Darling, far from that." Her mother exclaimed. "What I feel for Sydney is exactly the opposite. It’s given me a freedom that defies description. One day you’re going to discover that."
"I highly doubt it."
*****
"I don't want to talk about it." Brady warned as his father walked into his office that morning. "I’m busy as it is. There’s a question about the-"
"Take a breath, son." Sydney went over to the cabinet to pour himself a cup of coffee, bringing it over to sit on one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Are you okay?"
"Just peachy."
"I’m guessing the visit to the cabin didn’t go well."
"I got the job done, didn't I?" He growled. The headache that’d been brewing was making itself felt now. He‘d arrived home angry and the feeling had stayed until morning. On top of that, he hadn’t slept a wink last night.
Sydney looked at him as he sipped the coffee. "You spent the night?”
"For all the good it did." Blowing out a breath, he leaned back and closed his eyes wearily. "I don't mean to take it out on you. It's just she pisses me off so much I want to strangle her."
The deep chuckle coming from across his desk had him opening his eyes. "It's not funny."
"She’s like her mother. Stubborn, willful and exasperating. They’re very strong women and I suspect that's why we fall so hard. What now?"
"She’s the one calling the shots. So, we wait to see if she’s pregnant. In the meantime, I’m not supposed to get in touch with her."
"Why not?"
"She doesn't want me to."
"You’re going to let her get away with that?" His father asked him mildly.
Brady simply stared at him. "What do you suggest?"
"She loves the museum and is a fan of the arts. Jackson Colby has a showing at his new gallery on Third. We should go. Michelle will be there."
"Macayla will be there?"
"I strongly think she will be. It's on Wednesday."
"Then what?"
