died.”
Anne Marie nodded. “I haven’t, either.”
Melissa looked up and bit her lip. “I miss him so much.”
Anne Marie tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. “Me, too.”
“I thought if I went into his office and talked to his friends I’d feel better.”
The waiter brought their coffee, and Anne Marie welcomed the distraction. She could feel tears welling up and she didn’t want the embarrassment of crying in front of Melissa.
When they were alone again, Melissa dumped sugar in her coffee. “Like I said, I decided to stop by the office,” she muttered, scooping up three tiny half-and-half cups and peeling away the tops. “Dad was always so proud of his role in the business.”
Robert had every right to be proud. He’d worked for the data storage business almost from its inception and much of the company’s success could be attributed to his efforts. He enjoyed his job, although the demands on his time had increased constantly. For three consecutive years, Robert had planned to take Anne Marie to Paris for their wedding anniversary. Each year he’d been forced to cancel their vacation plans because of business.
“Everyone must’ve been happy to see you,” Anne Marie commented politely.
Melissa shrugged. “Even in this short amount of time, there’ve been a lot of changes.”
That was understandable. Robert had died almost ten months ago, and life had a way of creeping forward, no matter what the circumstances.
“Do you remember Rebecca Gilroy?” Melissa asked.
“Of course.” The young woman had been Robert’s personal assistant. As Anne Marie recalled, Rebecca had started working for the company a year or so before Robert’s heart attack.
“She had a baby.”
“I didn’t know she was pregnant.” Had she learned of it, Anne Marie would’ve sent her a gift. She’d only met Rebecca on a few occasions, but she’d liked her.
“She isn’t married.” Melissa’s gaze held hers.
Anne Marie didn’t consider that significant. “It’s hardly a prerequisite these days.”
Melissa picked up her coffee and Anne Marie noticed that her hands were trembling.
“Do you remember exactly when you and my dad separated?”
Anne Marie expelled her breath. “It’s not something I’m likely to forget, Melissa. Of course I remember. He…left on September 18th the year before last.” She lifted her shoulders as she took in a deep breath, feeling raw and vulnerable. “I was miserable without your father. I still am.” She wasn’t sure where this conversation was leading and strained to hold on to her patience. Exhaling, she added, “Despite the fact that you dislike me, we’ve always had something very important in common. We both loved your father.”
Melissa didn’t acknowledge the comment; instead she stared down at the table. “One night a couple of months after you and Dad separated, I decided to treat him to dinner. He was working too hard and he often stayed late at the office.”
That was a fairly typical occurrence throughout their marriage. As a company executive, Robert put in long hours.
“I picked up a couple of sandwiches and some of his favorite soup and went over there to surprise him.”
Anne Marie nodded patiently, wondering when her stepdaughter would get to the point.
“The security guard let me in and when I walked into the office…”
The waiter approached the table with their order; Melissa stopped talking and even seemed grateful for the intrusion.
Anne Marie took her first taste, delicious despite her lack of appetite. Realizing Melissa hadn’t continued, she gestured with her spoon. “Go on. You walked into the office and?”
Melissa nodded and reluctantly picked up her own spoon. “Rebecca was there, too.”
“Mandatory overtime was one of the job requirements.”
“She wasn’t exactly…working.”
Anne Marie frowned. “What do you mean?”
Melissa glared at her then. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” she demanded. “If you’re going to make me say it, then fine. Rebecca and my father were…they were having sex.”
Anne Marie’s spoon clattered to the floor as the shock overwhelmed her. Her body felt mercifully numb, and her mind refused to accept what she’d heard. It was like the day the company president had come to the bookstore to personally tell her Robert had died. The same kind of dazed unbelief.
“I’m sorry, Anne Marie,” Melissa whispered. “I…I shouldn’t have been so straightforward, but I didn’t know how else to say it.”
Melissa’s words had begun to fall together in her mind. Robert and Rebecca sexually involved. Rebecca pregnant and unmarried. Rebecca had a child.
Anne Marie could no longer breathe.
“Rebecca’s baby…”
Melissa’s eyes held hers. “I’m not positive…but I think so. You know her better than I do. I only saw her the one time… with Dad, and then when I stopped by the office recently. I…I had the impression that she isn’t the type to sleep around. Oh, and she was at the funeral.”
Anne Marie closed her eyes and shook her head. All of a sudden, the few spoonfuls of soup she’d managed to swallow came back up her throat. Grabbing her napkin, she held it over her mouth and leaped from her chair. She weaved unsteadily around the tables, then bolted for the ladies’ room and made it inside just in time. Stumbling into a vacant stall, Anne Marie was violently ill. When she finished, she was so weak she couldn’t immediately get up.
Melissa was waiting for her as she came out of the stall and handed her a dampened paper towel. Tears had forged wet trails down the younger woman’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have told you. I…I had no idea what else to do.”
Anne Marie held the cold, wet towel to her face with both hands. Shock, betrayal, outrage—all these emotions bombarded her with such force she didn’t know which one to react to first.
“I should’ve talked to Brandon,” Melissa whispered, leaning against the wall. She slid down until she was in a crouching position. “I shouldn’t have told you…I shouldn’t have told you.”
A waitress came into the ladies’ room. “Is everything all right?” she asked, looking concerned. “The manager asked me to make sure there wasn’t anything wrong with your dinner.”
As Melissa straightened, Anne Marie tried to reassure the woman that this had nothing to do with the food. “We’re fine. It wasn’t the soup…it’s nothing to worry about.”
“There’ll be no charge for your dinners.”
“No,
