“She said that her mother had told her if she didn’t have a child by the time she was thirty-five so it could take over the business . . .” Emma cocked her head to one side and drew her brows down so tightly that her head hurt. “Why am I remembering this now?”
“Keep talking,” Sophie said.
“My grandmother said that if Mother didn’t have a baby, she would leave everything to a charity when she died,” Emma answered.
“So, Victoria got married and had you.” Sophie removed her arm, stood up, and extended a hand toward Emma. “Let’s go to the living room where it’s more comfortable.”
Emma was glad for the helping hand, because her knees still felt like jelly. Sophie led her to the living room, got her settled on the sofa, and then went to the kitchen. She poured two glasses of sweet tea and got a box of crackers from the cabinet.
“I’m not pregnant.” Emma managed a weak smile.
“No, but after throwing up, this will settle your stomach without irritating it,” Sophie told her. “Now tell me more about when you were twelve years old.”
“Mother was so mad at me,” Emma said. “She never raised her voice, but she could cut steel with a whisper. She said that she tried to produce a decent heir for my grandmother, but that I was going to be like my worthless father.”
“Why did she marry him if he was so worthless?” Sophie asked.
“Because having a child out of wedlock would have been a disgrace. My grandmother held the purse strings, so Mother found a husband and had me. My grandmother died when I was three. I never knew her, but she left a big chunk of money in a trust fund for me.” She stopped and took a sip of tea. “You know what happened to that.”
“And you’re supposed to inherit the company?” Sophie asked.
“I’m not sure. Mother had me sign a whole raft of papers when I first came home from college. She was impatient and just kept flipping the pages and telling me to sign here and here. I didn’t even have time to read them. I wouldn’t be surprised if the company is off the table completely by now. Do you think maybe this was her plan all along? To declare me mentally incompetent to get back at my grandmother for making her have me?”
“Knowing Victoria, I wouldn’t put it past her,” Sophie answered. “And while we’re talking about her, she can’t just take your inheritance from you. If the company is set up to go from daughter to daughter, then it will be yours. And I’m going to talk to my lawyers about her freezing your accounts. That’s just not right.”
Emma didn’t care about the company or the trust fund. In her life money had only brought about bad decisions and unhappiness. “Thank you, but I’m not sure I even want the company. At twelve, I just didn’t want to have tutors and be homeschooled. Now I realize what a horrible life my father has lived, and why I never liked the idea of power and money.”
“Why did he marry her?” Sophie asked.
“Mother found him in the mail room at the company. He never knew his birth family and was raised in foster homes,” Emma answered. “Now that I’m not on meds, things are clearing up. He must have wanted a place in the world. She needed a husband to produce a child, and he was also a little way to get back at her mother for insisting that she get married.”
“But there’s that huge picture of them on their wedding day hanging over the mantel,” Sophie said.
“Mother said that was Grandmother’s idea. All the women in the family had their picture taken on their wedding day and hung it in the living room,” Emma said. “I’d forgotten all this until now. Why would it come back to my mind tonight?”
“Because you dreamed that Victoria was in the hallway when you left Terrance’s apartment. You are like your dad. Neither of you ever felt wanted.” Sophie opened up the sleeve of crackers and handed a couple to Emma.
“But I wanted Mother’s approval, right? By letting myself get lured into Terrance’s apartment, that made me pretty dumb in her eyes.” Emma sighed. “I wish it could be over, Sophie.”
“So do I, but it’s a slow process. I bet that sounded like your therapists for sure, didn’t it? Do you think she really would have blamed you? Rebel would have wanted to strangle those guys if that had happened to me. Hell’s bells, she would still want to murder them for doing it to you,” Sophie finished.
Emma nodded slowly. “I don’t feel like I ever pleased her with anything, so yes, she would have that attitude if I’d told her about the rape. In the dream, I dropped to my knees and begged her to forgive me, but she just walked away and left me there. But we should be getting to bed. We’re going to paint rain tomorrow.”
“Hey, I can stay up all night, sleep until noon, and then paint if you want to talk,” Sophie offered.
“I’m fine.” Emma said the familiar words, but she couldn’t believe them herself—not yet, anyway.
Chapter Nine
The sound of rain on a metal roof reminded Sophie of the trailer that she and her mother had lived in when she was a little girl. She’d especially loved the weekends, when she and Rebel would curl up under one of Granny Mason’s handmade quilts and watch old movies. Sophie pulled the covers up to her chin and pretended she was back in that trailer.
If she had had a daughter, would they have been in the living room watching movies that morning? She tried to picture what a daughter would have looked like when she was seventeen. Would she have dark hair and dark eyes like her father, or would she have been a blonde with blue eyes like Sophie? Like Victoria, Sophie had not wanted a child, but unlike Victoria, she would have loved her baby.
Her phone rang and brought her out of the past and into the present. She knew it was Rebel by the ringtone and answered it with, “Good morning, Mama. Is it raining in your part of the state?”
“The sun is shining here. Happy late Easter. Annie threw a little party for our cleaning lady club. My phone was in my purse, and so I missed your call. Did you hunt eggs with your artist friends?” Rebel asked.
“Yes, I did,” Sophie answered, “and Emma and I talked about the year when you let us color a dozen eggs and then hid them for us. We decided that was one of our favorite memories.”
“How’s she doing?” Rebel asked.
“I can’t talk about it. She told me in confidence,” Sophie said.
“Told what?” Emma peeked in the bedroom. “I’m going to make coffee. Want some eggs for breakfast today?”
“This is Rebel. She asked how you were doing, and I’m good with cereal,” Sophie answered.
Emma gave her a nod. “You can tell Rebel. I’m okay with it.”
“Mind if I put it on speaker?” Sophie asked.
“No, I don’t want to talk just yet. Tell her that I love her, though.” Emma turned around, and in a couple of minutes, Sophie could hear rattling dishes.
“She’s had a couple of horrible nightmares,” Sophie replied and then went on to tell Rebel the whole story.
“I’m so sorry that she had to endure that awful experience.” Rebel’s voice cracked. “I hope it doesn’t damage her for life. She was so sheltered. No wonder she’s been in and out of centers all this time.”