She wondered if he’d let her know when he received the Pissarro. She wondered if he’d keep it but well, that was up to him. She’d done all she could to remind him of who they were. Who they could be.
She swished up the porch stairs through pockets of cool shade, her stomach rumbling for home cooking, for some of Ida Mae’s chicken and dumplings.
At the door, she tried the handle and the front door eased open.
“Hey y’all.” She deposited her suitcases in the airy grand foyer then crossed toward the kitchen. “Anybody home?”
“Hello?” A masculine voice boomed from the foyer hall.
Corina spun around. “Daddy!”
“Welcome home, Kit. How was Brighton?”
“It was . . .” She sighed. “It’s a long story. You’re home. I’m glad.” Corina fell against the man who’d been her first prince, her rock, her harbor.
He kissed her head. “I came home to check on a few things.” He was somber, and when he motioned with his folded paper for her to sit in the formal living room, dread coated her joy.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” She sat on the edge of the sofa while he perched on the arm of the wingback chair.
“I’m going to live in the Atlanta condo for a while.”
“Daddy, don’t do this.”
“Your mom and I need some space.”
“Daddy, you don’t need space. You need to come home. She needs toleavehome. You two need to go back to being Donald and Horatia Del Rey.”
“Darling, I’m not sure we can ever find those people again. By the way, our accountant called. Said you took ten million out of your Del Rey trust.”
“I bought a painting. A Pissarro.”
He looked impressed. “Well done.”
“I left it there.”
He regarded her for a moment, then nodded. “Are you planning on going back then?”
“No, I don’t think so.” If she told him it was a gift, then he’d ask for who and she didn’t want to tell him like this, when she was tired, when he was telling her about moving out. But none of this surprised her. “Daddy, are you and Mama moving toward divorce?”
“At the moment, no.”
“Because you know this is not what Carlos would want.”
“He’d not want to be dead either, but he is.”
“But you and Mama are one of the great love stories.” Corina heard Adelaide’s sweet, “It’s a gift.” “How can you not be there for each other?”
“We are, Corina. In our way.”
“What way? From a distance? By letting Carlos’s death drive you apart? Drive us apart? What about me? I’m out here all alone. It’s like I died too.” One sob broke loose and the tears followed. “Isn’t there any hope for true, lasting love?” She shot up from the sofa and paced toward the fireplace. “This ticks me off.”
“Corina, are we still talking about your mama and me?” Daddy unfurled his paper. “Or this?”
On the front page, under the SundayPostmasthead, was a full-color picture of Corina and Stephen from theKing Stephen Ipremier. The headline read:
PRINCESTEPHENMARRIED!
Gigi!
