then another thought left him cold. What name had Ben used on the policy? His real one? Or the name he used to marry Glynnis? Gregg made a mental note to call his lawyer as soon as he got back to the restaurant. He had a feeling they were going to need him.
Even if the insurance thing was okay, Glynnis would still have to go back to work a lot sooner than she’d expected. Gregg knew she’d been planning to teach again when Olivia, her youngest, started school. But Olivia was barely two years old. It was going to be hard for Glynnis to leave her. Michael was five and more independent. He had started kindergarten this year, so day care afterward probably wouldn’t faze him.
Briefly Gregg wondered if Ben had left Glynnis anything else. He’d always been vague about his business affairs, and since he and Gregg had not been close, Gregg wasn’t sure what Ben’s financial situation had been. There’d always seemed to be plenty of money, though, and now that Gregg knew the truth of Ben’s situation, he realized Ben must have been fairly well-off if he was supporting two households.
Had he been, though?
Or was Sabrina’s mother a successful career woman herself? Damn. Why hadn’t he asked Sabrina more questions last night? He didn’t even know if she was Ben’s only other child. For all Gregg knew she could have brothers and sisters.
Jeez. What a mess.
Furious again, he pounded the steering wheel. What had possessed Ben to do what he had? Even though Gregg hadn’t been thrilled by the marriage, he could have sworn Ben really loved Glynnis. Why hadn’t he just divorced Sabrina’s mother? Why the lies that were going to cause so many people so much pain?
But there were no answers to these questions, because the only person who knew the answers was dead. Now all that was left to do was clean up the mess Ben had left behind.
When Sabrina got back to Rockwell, she decided to go to her apartment rather than straight back to her parents’ home—no—she had to quit thinking of it as her parents’ home. It was now solely her mother’s home.
At the realization, a fresh wave of sadness flooded her. No matter how hurt she was by her father’s duplicity, nothing changed the fact that she had loved him. She would always love him, no matter what he’d done. And she knew he had felt the same way about her.
He would have forgiven me anything, and I need to forgive him.
Pulling into the covered parking slot behind her back door, she could feel some of the stress of the past few days begin to lessen. Her apartment always had this effect on her. From the moment she’d first seen it, she’d loved it. The apartment was located in a small complex near Rockwell University—on the opposite side of town from where her parents lived. Typical of areas around colleges, the neighborhood was trendy and popular with the younger residents of Rockwell.
Sabrina especially loved that she could walk to neighborhood shops and restaurants if she wanted to. One street over from hers had a movie theater, a bookstore, a coffee shop and a bakery. On weekend mornings, she loved to walk over to the bakery and buy fresh bagels or crusty rolls, then take them home to enjoy with a latte purchased from the coffee shop.
Her mother had fought Sabrina’s moving out of the family home, insisting there was plenty of room and it was ridiculous for her to pay rent when she practically had her own suite and all the privacy she could want right there. “It makes no sense at all.”
But Sabrina had been firm, saying, “Mother, I’m twenty-four years old. I’ve been out of college for nearly two years. It’s time to cut the cord.”
Her father had backed her up. “Everyone needs their own space, Isabel. We can’t keep Sabrina a child forever.”
That had been four years ago, and Sabrina had never been sorry she’d moved. Sure, it had been nice to have Florence waiting on her, doing her laundry, not having to buy food or pay rent, but those luxuries didn’t compare to the thrill of having her own place and the satisfaction of paying her own way.
Entering her apartment, she even breathed easier. It smelled a bit musty from being shut up for more than a week, and it needed cleaning, but it was hers. Every stick of furniture was there because she’d chosen it and she’d paid for it. She had taken nothing from the family home, even though her mother had offered all the furniture in her bedroom and adjoining sitting room.
Isabel had turned up her nose at the inexpensive furniture and discount house accessories Sabrina had purchased, but Sabrina didn’t care. All the antiques and valuable objets d’art that filled the March home hadn’t been enough to make her mother happy. They certainly didn’t tempt Sabrina if it meant giving up her independence.
It was bad enough, she thought, that she was trapped in a job that no longer fulfilled her and shackled by duties and responsibilities she hadn’t asked for. Her apartment was her oasis, the only place where she felt at peace.
Sabrina had stopped at the mailboxes on her way into the complex, and now she sorted through her mail. There was nothing urgent—a few bills, a few pieces of junk mail and her newest copy of Vanity Fair.
She then headed for her bedroom. After changing clothes and unpacking, she put a load of laundry in the washer, opened some windows to air the place out, and cleaned the refrigerator, getting rid of anything that looked as if it might be past its prime.
She debated calling the paper, then decided there was no reason to. If anything urgent came up, they would call her. Finally she could stall no longer and knew she had to decide what she was going to do when she finally did go to her mother’s.
Should she tell her mother everything today?
Or should she wait?
It was difficult for Gregg to pretend this was a normal visit with Glynnis and the children, but somehow he managed it while Michael was still there. But once Michael’s car pool came and he was off to kindergarten and Olivia was almost finished eating her breakfast, Gregg knew he could no longer put off telling Glynnis the bad news.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He glanced over at Olivia, who had just stuffed a last piece of waffle and cut-up strawberry into her mouth. “Think you could set her up with a video in the playroom?”
Glynnis smiled. “Sure.” Turning to her daughter, she said, “Livvy, pumpkin, would you like to watch Dumbo?”
“Dumbo, Dumbo!” Olivia shouted, her hazel eyes—a mirror of her mother’s—shining.
She grinned at Gregg, who grinned back. His niece could always make him smile.
“I guess her earache is gone,” Glynnis said in wry amusement. “She’s gone back to her normal tone of voice. Loud.”
Gregg chuckled.
Once Glynnis had cleaned syrup off Olivia’s face and hands, Gregg took his niece out of her high chair and carried her into the playroom, which was on the other side of the kitchen. The builder had intended it to be a sunroom, but it made a perfect play area for the kids, with lots of light and proximity to the place where their mother spent a good portion of her time.
“I can be working in the kitchen and still keep a close eye on them,” she’d said happily. In fact, she’d admitted later that the sunroom was the top selling point when it came to making a decision about buying the house.
Once
