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.“The door’s unlocked!” Stephen Henry’s deep voice came from the old house, and, steeling herself, Rachel pushed it open, stepping inside.He was sitting in the living room, his books, his coffee, everything he needed at hand, a cashmere throw over his useless legs.“Come and give an old man a kiss,” he said.She bent down and clinked cheeks with him, both sides, European style, as he demanded, and with-drew before he could prolong it.“Where’s Dylan?”“I gave him the day off.He’s already made lunch for us, and I told him you could serve us.”Of course you did, Rachel thought.“Happy to,” she lied, taking a seat far enough away so he couldn’t grab her knee.He liked to touch women, which was one strong reason why she didn’t make any effort to get Sophie to like him any better.It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him.She just didn’t trust him.“What’s up?” she said.“Ah, this younger generation,” Stephen Henry said, blithely ignoring the fact that he was the forefront of the baby boom.“Always in such a hurry.Why can’t we be civilized, talk about art and literature for a bit?” He always pronounced it “litrachur” in particularly affected tones, which annoyed her to no end.Particularly since David had picked it up.“S.H., I’ve got film to develop,” she said in her sweetest possible voice.“Much as I adore spending time with you, it’s sometimes difficult.Weekends are usually better, but David said this was a royal summons, so here I am, your loyal subject.” She kept her voice light, giving Stephen Henry exactly what he wanted.An audience and a cue.He chuckled.“Royal summons, eh? I certainly wish my sons were even half as obedient as you are.”That rankled enough to make her speak.“No one has ever called me obedient in my entire life.”“Ah, but you’ve changed.In the four months you’ve been a part of our small family I’ve seen you mature, blossom.Your wardrobe, your jewelry, your entire manner.When David first brought you back I was, frankly, appalled.You were too energetic, too wild for a sleepy little backwater like Silver Falls.But clearly I underestimated my son—he saw through the gaudy clothes and unconventional behavior to the sweet, reasonable woman beneath all that.You’ve curbed your impulsive nature as well.And your daughter is exquisite.”“Glad to know we pass muster,” she muttered.Stephen Henry was partly deaf, and much too vain to wear a hearing aid, and she’d been docile for long enough.“I beg your pardon, love.You were mumbling.You have to learn to enunciate.It’s a sign of a bad education when people mumble.”Rachel’s smile grew strained.“You know me, S.H.I’m street smart.I learn from books that I choose—that way I don’t have to waste my time on anything that doesn’t interest me.” Like self-indulgent poet snobs.“Oh, I know you, my dear.You’re too smart not to further your education.If it weren’t for your unfortunate illegitimate pregnancy…”Oh, she really was going to have to hit him.“But then I wouldn’t have Sophie.”An indulgent smile wreathed Stephen Henry’s soft pink face that never saw the sun.Then again, if he wanted sun he sure as hell wasn’t going to find any in Silver Falls.“Very true.And not everyone is cut out for higher education.”“S.H., I know you didn’t invite me over to talk about my educational deficiencies.” Stephen Henry was oblivious to the tone creeping into her voice.“After lunch, my dear.Dylan has made us a delicious shrimp salad and chosen an excellent wine.”Oh, yeah, that was why she hadn’t made some phony excuse.Stephen Henry did eat well.And after last night’s forbidden carb fest she was finding twigs and tofu even less appealing.She had to wait through Stephen Henry’s tedious monologue over heavenly shrimp salad and a crisp chardonnay, paying him only the slightest bit of attention.He was lecturing her about how sensitive David was, but right then she wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, and she resisted the impulse to ask about Caleb’s childhood, something that seemed to have slipped Stephen Henry’s memory completely.Fortunately all she had to do was give him the right cue and he’d start off again, prattling on with his fork filled with food, hovering hopelessly near his constantly moving mouth.Finally he was done.She cleared the dishes, dumping them in the sink for Stephen Henry’s caregiver with only a trace of guilt.Anyone who had to put up with Stephen Henry full-time deserved to have the dishes done, but the sooner she got out of this airless, stuffy house the better.Stephen Henry had moved from the dining room to the laughably labeled sunroom.The seats in there were even less comfortable, and somehow either Stephen Henry or his handsome aide had managed to find huge plants that thrived in darkness, making the room feel like an unpleasant version of a rainforest.At least she wasn’t staying long.She perched on the edge of an antique wicker chair made for sylphs, propped her hands on her knees and waited.“I wanted to talk to you about my sons.One thing about you, Rachel.You never beat around the bush—you’re almost excessively direct
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