Serendipity (31 page)

Faith had believed that by distancing herself from her father, she had nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, she'd thought of herself as another one of Martin Harrington's victims. No way in hell would she or anyone else ever see her that way again. She'd lived off her father's money, then Carter's. And if the article implied his guilt, Faith had both
known
and had benefited from her ex-husband's guilt to gain what she believed to be a fair divorce settlement. But there was nothing fair about anything or anyone who'd been in Martin Harrington's life. This article made her seem guilty by association. And she was.

Faith looked up at her mother through tear-filled eyes.

“I was so wrong about him,” Lanie admitted at last.

Faith licked her dry lips. “We both were.”

“But you accepted it long before me. How could he do this to us? How could he allow this magazine to show us in this light?” her mother asked, her voice cracking.

Faith rose and crossed the room, seating herself on the edge of the mattress. She didn't recall ever cuddling with her mother on her bed. But the past didn't matter. The present did.

“The magazine isn't at fault, Mom. Dad is. He did these things. He admitted them. And he had no problem throwing us under the bus along with him.” It hurt Faith to verbalize the painful truth to her mother.

The woman beside her had been beaten down and broken. Whether or not the outside world thought Lanie Harrington deserved sympathy, Faith understood how important her status in life was to her mother. After her father's guilty plea, Faith knew just how far her mother had fallen.

For the first time, Lanie Harrington knew it too. And Faith pitied her.

“What am I going to do?” Lanie asked, childlike as she sought advice from her daughter.

Faith forced a grim smile. “Exactly what I'm doing. Rebuild your life from the bottom up with a new awareness of who you are and who you want to be.”

The only problem was that Faith's perspective on those things had just undergone a drastic one eighty.

“Do you think I can do that?” her mother asked.

Faith nodded. “Of course you can. I'm more than willing to help—but you have to be willing to meet me halfway.”

Faith laid out rules for her mother to follow. Lanie's answer would tell Faith whether or not she had a chance at a real mother–daughter relationship.

“I'm not sure I know what you want from me,” her mother said honestly.

For Faith, that was a start. “It means calling me to talk, being honest about your feelings and what's going on in your life. And most important, it means accepting that you aren't the lady of the manor anymore. You aren't any better than anyone else in Serendipity and you need to start acting more humble.”

Lanie wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth like a little girl. “You don't ask for much,” her mother said, sarcastically but without bite.

“No, not much. I'm just asking you to be human,” Faith said wryly.

A genuine, somewhat pained smile touched her mother's face. Without makeup, her age lines were more apparent, the real person more evident without the mask of wealth and haughtiness she normally wore.

Faith wondered if it would last. “I could use some help at the shop,” she said, venturing another step toward forging a relationship. “It would mean answering the phones, maybe making some cold calls, helping me drum up business. I couldn't afford to pay you much, but over time I hope that would change.” She waited while her mother processed what Faith was asking.

“You want me to work for you?” Lanie sounded surprised.

Faith nodded. What she really wanted was to give her mother an excuse to leave the house and face people—before hiding out became permanent.

“Can I think about it?” Lanie asked.

“Just don't take too long. After this article, I may have a ton of applicants banging down the door.” Faith winced at the bad joke.

For the first time in a long time, her mother laughed.

 

 

Ethan showered and rushed downstairs. He didn't want to be late to pick up Tess and face his brother's wrath. Better to be early and get his sister out of there without giving Nash added ammunition for an argument.

Grabbing his car keys from the kitchen counter, he was about to head to the garage when Rosalita cornered him.

“Oh, Mr. Ethan, bad news.” She muttered something unintelligible in Spanish.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, that Mr. Harrington, he's a very bad man.” She crossed herself as if to ward away evil spirits.

At the mention of Faith's father, Ethan grew wary, but it was the last part of the dismayed woman's statement that caught his attention. “Rosalita, I'm hurt. I thought I was the only very bad man in your life,” he said, unable to resist the opportunity to goad his housekeeper the way she goaded him.

“Oh, no.” Rosalita shook her head. “Compared to him you're a saint!”

If Rosalita was complimenting Ethan, something was very wrong. “What is it?” he asked the other woman. “What's going on?”

“Your mail came too late yesterday, so I get it from the box this morning. I put everything on your desk like always, except this. Look!” She shoved his subscription copy of the
News Journal
magazine into his hand.

The
News Journal
covered the latest in business and important world news. And from the cover, a smug Martin Harrington, Faith's father, smiled up at him.

“ ‘Anatomy of a Scam,' ” Ethan read aloud. “Son of a bitch.” Just what Faith didn't need, Ethan thought.

Rosalita nodded and crossed herself once more.

No wonder Faith had gotten a panicked phone call from her mother. He had to go pick up Tess, but he was worried about Faith. So was Rosalita, and after promising Rosalita he'd take care of the woman she considered like a daughter, Ethan left for his brother's place across town.

While driving, he called Faith on her cell phone more than once, but he kept getting her voice mail. He finally gave up and left her a message asking her to call him as soon as possible.

Nash lived in a new condo development on the outskirts of town. Ethan pulled into a parking spot and discovered Dare's police car already there.

Already tense, Ethan rang his brother's doorbell and the door opened immediately, Tess greeting him on the other side. “Thank God, you're here to rescue me!”

Relieved by her greeting when he didn't know what the dynamic duo had in store for him, he grinned. “Hey, kid. Miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, her way of letting him know he was a dork. At least she wasn't cursing at him, he thought.

“Want breakfast? There's extra bagels,” she said, pulling him inside.

In the kitchen, Nash, Dare, and Tess had already shared a cozy breakfast, which had clearly deliberately excluded him.

Ethan drew a deep breath, forced the hurt down into a place he'd created years ago, and stepped into the room. “Morning,” Ethan said.

“Want a bagel?” Tess asked.

“No thanks.” Ethan set his jaw. “You ready?” he asked her.

“I just have to get my things.” She bounced out of the room.

“Seems like she had a good time,” he said, hoping like hell the kid moved fast. He didn't want to be stuck here too long.

“She did.” Dare rose to his feet and, to Ethan's surprise, reached out a hand for Ethan to shake. “So I hear you want to put her in private school.”

Ethan didn't know his youngest brother well enough to gauge his feelings on the matter. He'd already gotten Nash's grudging okay and wondered if that automatically meant Dare would feel the same way.

“I want her to have access to one of the best art teachers in the country. After that, we can discuss where she wants to enroll in school permanently.” Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets.

Dare nodded. “I think it's a good idea. She's obviously got an interest since she drags that sketch pad everywhere.”

“Did she show you her work?” Ethan asked.

“No. She's pretty protective of that pad.” Dare laughed.

“How about you?” Ethan asked Nash, who until now remained silent. No big surprise there, since he clearly held more of a grudge than Dare.

“Nope,” Nash said. “Haven't seen it.”

A unbrotherly-like feeling of relief settled in Ethan's chest. As much as he wanted Tess to have a relationship with her other siblings, the fact that she trusted Ethan with her artwork and not them gave him a feeling of satisfaction he wasn't proud of but couldn't control.

It was because of the way Nash treated him, like he wasn't worth the dirt beneath his shoe, that got to Ethan. He wasn't that same selfish, mixed-up eighteen-year-old who'd abandoned his brothers, and though it had taken him too many years to grow up, he finally had. Ethan was finished apologizing for a past he couldn't change. He could only control the future and he knew who and what mattered to him now.

“Well, when you do see Tess's work, you'll understand why I want her to have this opportunity,” Ethan said.

“She hasn't warmed up to me that way yet,” Nash admitted.

No big shock there,
Ethan thought. Though his middle brother had ended up with the better foster care arrangement, his attitude toward people and life was obviously darker.

Tess was a great judge of character.

“I take it you've seen the interview with Martin Harrington?” Nash asked, leaning back in his seat, taking pleasure in the question Ethan knew he'd inevitably ask.

“I thought we agreed not to bring that up this morning.” Dare glared at Nash, annoyance in his tone and tight body language.

Nash shrugged. “What can I tell you? I just look at him and all my anger comes back.” He rocked his chair forward and planted his feet back on the ground.

“Well, back off,” Dare said. “Tess is in the other room and—”

“Thanks, but I don't need you fighting my battles,” Ethan told his youngest brother. “I know how he feels about me and about Faith.” Ethan gestured to Nash. “As soon as Tess is ready I'll leave and you two can get back to your
family
breakfast.” Ethan hadn't meant to show them that excluding him hurt, but the truth slipped out anyway.

Of both men, only Dare looked uncomfortable, confirming Ethan's notion that maybe he had a shot of making peace with his youngest sibling.

“I'm ready!” Tess said, bounding back into the room, full of energy and oblivious to the undercurrents in the room. “I have to stop home and change before we go to the beach. And so do you,” she said, looking Ethan up and down, taking in his black jeans and T-shirt.

“Before we get near the beach, I got a call on the way over here. You and I have an interview at Birchwood today at eleven. We need to go home and change for that. Did Faith buy you something suitable?” he asked hopefully.

He reminded himself to find out how much Faith had spent so he could pay her back for Tess's new wardrobe. When he finally heard from her, he thought, realizing his phone hadn't yet rung.

“I guess there's one dress,” Tess said, sounding pained at the thought. “Can we go to the beach afterward?”

Ethan nodded. “If it doesn't rain. The sky was cloudy this morning.”

She frowned but nodded in understanding. At least there was something Ethan couldn't be blamed for today.

 

 

Tess dressed up nicely, Ethan thought, unsure of whether or not to tell her and risk embarrassing her before their interview.

What the hell. “You look good,” he said, watching her come down the stairs in a feminine dress, light lavender and white, with a pair of silver sandals.

She blushed and ducked her head. “I look like a dork.”

“Do not.”

“I do too. And so do you, in that suit.”

He shook his head and laughed, but Tess didn't join him. “What's wrong?”

She hesitated.

“Come on, spill.”

Tess blew out a long breath of air. “Fine. Faith was supposed to fix my hair this weekend, but now—” She fingered the purple streak, her uncertainty showing through.

“I thought you liked purple,” he responded, deliberately playing dumb. He understood she didn't want to show up at a private school meeting with the rebellious hair.

“You know what I mean.”

She picked at her nails and he smacked her hand. “Yeah, I do. But you know what? You look cool.” He held up a hand before she could reply. “I know, I know, nobody says ‘cool' anymore. But there's nothing wrong with showing your individuality.” Minus the attitude, the hair wasn't as objectionable, but if she wanted to let Faith soften it, Ethan was all for it.

Assuming he could get in touch with Faith. So far she still wasn't answering her phone or calling him back.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yep. I'm gonna kick some butt,” she said, back to her old self.

He grinned. “Good. Just watch the mouth when we get there and you're all set.”

A half hour later, one of the female administrators took Tess for a tour around the school while Ethan met with the head director in his office.

Once they were seated, Dr. Spellman, a balding, sixty-something-year-old man got right to the point. “You'd like to enroll your sister in our school, specifically our art department?”

Ethan nodded. “She's new in town, so wherever she starts school will be a transition for her.”

“It's a new world for us here at Birchwood. Normally I'd have to turn you down and put your sister on a waiting list, but things have changed. Thanks to the recent economic downturn and some unsuccessful investment choices, we find ourselves in need of an influx of funds,” the other man said bluntly.