On the walls hung framed photos and plans from the projects his firm had spearheaded. Among them: upscale condos in Madison; a New Urbanism community near Belvidere, Illinois; and concept renderings of a resort proposed for Door County, right on Lake Michigan.
Over the years, he’d talked about his work, but she hadn’t realized the scale of these projects.
She met his eyes over her shoulder. She noticed that the hair at his temples had gone gray since she’d last seen him. “These are amazing.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and crossed to stand beside her. “I’m especially excited about the Door County project. It’s totally my baby, and is the most expansive—and expensive—development I’ve proposed. I’m in the process of securing investors now.”
“You’ve done so well, Brad. I’m really proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Dad’s help.”
Their dad; it was hard to believe he’d been gone five years now. “That’s not true. You had the brains and determination, and he believed in you.”
“He was the first one who did.” His voice thickened. “I miss him.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I do, too.”
He cleared his throat. “And how about you? A classically trained chef? Le Cordon Bleu? Damn, girl, I’m proud of you.”
Sienna knew she was beaming. She couldn’t help it. It had been the first time in her life she had truly let go of her doubts and let passion lead her. “Tell you the truth, I’m proud of myself.”
“You should be. I know Dad would be, too.”
“That means a lot, Brad. Thank you.”
“How about a cup of coffee?”
“God, yes. I didn’t sleep on the flight, and I’m pretty close to being toast right now.”
He turned to go, then stopped and looked back at her, expression serious. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
“I thought you’d try to talk me out of it.”
He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I would have. I’ll get the coffee. We’ll talk.”
She watched him go, then sat, choosing a spot on the cozy love seat in the conversation area. She turned her gaze to the fireplace and its flickering flames. The two of them were so different. Not surprising, she supposed. Not only was he ten years older and a male, he was the product of their father’s first marriage.
He hadn’t had it easy, shuffled between the two households, dealing with one mother who was angry at her ex-husband and resentful of his new wife, and one who suffered from persecutory delusions and was constantly in and out of treatment.
It was amazing he’d turned out as grounded as he had. She smiled to herself. Ditto for her.
He returned with two beautiful cappuccinos and a plate of small biscotti. “So fancy,” she said, surprised.
“I let Liz talk me into one of those Nespresso machines that do everything but drink the beverage for you. I remembered you used to like these.”
“I still do. Thanks.”
He handed her a cup, then took the seat opposite hers. Suddenly tongue-tied, she dunked a biscotti in the frothy drink and took a bite. She sensed him watching her, waiting. She’d obviously come a long way for something; no doubt he was curious what it was.
She didn’t want to go there, not just yet. For this moment, it felt good just being here, reconnecting with him. Besides, she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be happy with her decision.
He broke the silence. “How’s Mimi?”
Sienna thought about their paternal grandmother, a tiny dynamo who refused to accept “No” or “I can’t” from anyone, including herself. Mimi’s influence had been exactly what Sienna’s then eighteen-year-old self needed.
“Really well. She said to tell you hello and that she loves you.”
“I’ll have to give her a call.”
“She’d like that.”
They fell silent again. Sienna took another sip of her coffee, then broke the silence. “What time’s Liz coming in? I’m looking forward to seeing her.”
“She’s not.”
Sienna frowned at the brusque reply. “Is she ill? Or—”
“She left me.”
“Oh, Bradley. I’m so sorry.”
“On our fifth anniversary. How’s that for a kick in the gut?”
“When you visited, you seemed so happy.”
“We were. Then.” He stood and crossed to the fireplace. He stood, back to her, hands jammed in his pockets, spine ramrod straight. “She said she couldn’t take Viv anymore.”
Brad had never called his stepmother by anything but her given name, because he’d never thought of her as his mother. Yet, because Sienna had been hiding away in England, the role of her mother’s chief caregiver had been forced on him.
Guilt pinched at her. Hard. She stood and crossed to him, laying a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it? If I’d been here to help—”
“When he died, Dad entrusted her care to me.” He stepped away; she dropped her hand. “Not to you.”
“Maybe that wasn’t fair?”
“Whatever, Sienna. It’s done.”
Which didn’t absolve her of responsibility. “Well, I’m here now.”
“And she’ll enjoy seeing you.”
“You misunderstand, Brad. This isn’t a visit. I’m staying.”
“Staying?” he repeated, brow furrowing again. “How long?”
“Permanently.”
He looked her in the eyes. “Is this a joke?”
The question stung. “No. Why would you even think that?”
“C’mon, sis. We both know it’s not healthy for you to be around your mother.”
“I can handle it.”
“That’s what Liz said, and she wasn’t the focus of Viv’s delusions.” He looked her in the eyes. “She hasn’t let them go, Sienna. She still believes my mother and her family are out to punish her by hurting you. They ‘drive by’ the house. They’ve ‘bugged’ her phone in an attempt to trace your calls to her. She routinely searches for hidden cameras. I can go on if you’d like?”
“Don’t bother. It’s all standard Mom.”
“You’re sure you’ve thought this through?”
“Obviously.”
“Really? Not obvious to me.” He made a sound of frustration. “But why would it be? I didn’t even know you were coming.”
Another prickle of guilt. “I should have told you. I see that now, and I apologize.”
“What about living arrangements? You’re welcome to stay with me but, again, a little notice would have been nice.”
“I’m staying at the house.”
“The house?”
“With Mom.”
For a moment, he simply gazed at her in that measured way of his. Then he shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious. She’s my mother, and that’s my childhood home.”
“That’s right, she is your mother. The same one you ran away from.”