“Mother,” Sebastian starts, “this is Ivy and …”
“Madison. Madison, our half-sister.” There’s no gentle way to do this. “Dad’s daughter with Naomi Payne.”
My mother doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. The perfect bourbon wife, trained to weather humiliation with dignity. But I see the slight whitening of her knuckles on her purse.
“Yes, I remember her from Louis’s funeral,” she says. “What I do not understand is why she is here.”
“Long story. Do you want the Cliffs Notes?” I ask.
She nods. “Short version.”
“Dad bought land on the cheap because it’s contaminated. He’s been paying off the right people to keep it hidden. Madison has proof. She’s blackmailing us to stay here for the summer while Ivy works on her guardianship.” Okay, the last part was mostly a lie. She doesn’t need to know that Madison is trying to weasel her way into becoming family.
She sighs. “I guess a paternity test isn’t needed. With that move, she’s definitely Louis’s kid.” Her mother’s gaze shifts to Ivy. “And you are?”
“Ivy West, Madison’s sister. I’m the guardian,” she answers, standing and extending her hand. “Different fathers.”
My mother ignores the offered hand. “How convenient. Two for one.”
“Mother,” Sebastian warns.
“What? Am I supposed to pretend this isn’t awkward?” She runs a hand along her chignon with tight, deliberate movements. “Your father’s barely cold in the ground, and you’ve opened your home to his... indiscretions.”
Madison flinches. Ivy’s face hardens.
“That’s enough,” I say, my voice low. “Madison is fourteen. Her mother just died.”
My mother’s eyes widen slightly. “When did you get a heart?”
“If I had, that might have hurt,” I drawl. I’d forgotten how sharp her tongue could be. But I’ve got enough scar tissue that I barely feel the cut.
And fine, a week ago, I might have tossed Madison out like bad mash. But something’s shifted slightly. Maybe it’s the sporadic mornings when Madison joins Ivy and me at the pool. When the teenager actually lets her guard down and shows flashes of humor and intelligence.
Madison lifts her chin. “I don’t need to be defended. Mrs. Blackstone has every right to her feelings.”
The maturity in her tone catches me off guard. Seems it does my mother as well, who studies Madison more carefully.
“You have his eyes,” she says after a moment. “That same Blackstone blue.”
Madison nods. “Mom always said that's how she knew I was his.”
An uncomfortable silence falls, broken only when Patricia appears with iced tea for my mother. She accepts it with a nod. “I came to tell you all that I’m leaving for Europe. Tomorrow.”
“Europe?” Sebastian repeats. “For how long?”
“Six months, perhaps more.” She sits in the empty chair and takes a sip. Is she stalling? “I’ve rented a villa in Tuscany for the summer, and then I’ll spend autumn in the South of France.”
“That’s… sudden,” Lillianna says.
My mother’s lips curve slightly. “For me, it’s a long time coming.”
I narrow my eyes. There’s something she’s not telling us. “With Irene?” I ask, referring to her closest friend.
“No.” She sets down her cup with a deliberate click. “With Thomas.”
“Thomas?” Sebastian echoes. “Who’s Thomas?”
My mother looks at him, then at Lillianna, and then at me. There’s unexpected amusement and unease in her eyes. “Thomas Hargrove. My boyfriend of five years.”
