The memory of her last conversation with her mother rose like a cloud of dirt kicked in her face.
“I can’t understand why you have no respect for my academic career.” Her voice shook with frustration and resentment. “Pris never graduated because she was dancing. Bailey got a degree from an arts school and barely scraped by. Yet, I sacrificed to get my PhD, work at a top college, and published numerous articles. But I don’t have a boyfriend, right? So that negates everything else.”
“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all, sweetheart. You know how proud your father and I are of you. I’m just worried you shut yourself off from any other part of life—friends, travel, love, experiences. When was the last time you went out on a date? Or to one of those fun clubs to dance?”
Dev groaned, barely restraining herself from bashing her head on her kitchen table. “I’m working so I can get ahead and secure a future for myself. So I don’t have to depend on anyone else for my own happiness. I’m sorry it’s not enough for you, Mom.”
“I want it to be enough for you. I don’t want you to have regrets when you look back at your life.”
“Like Pris?”
Her mother’s soft sigh echoed over the line. “All of you girls are unique. I don’t want you to be like anyone else but you, Dev. I just . . . worry.”
The rest of the conversation faded away. Dev paused in the empty hallway, trying to get her bearings. She hated their last exchange—hated the idea that that was the last time she spoke with her mother before she’d died. More than how she’d sniped at Mom was the fact that underneath it all, Dev only wanted her mother to be proud of her accomplishments. But it always felt as if her boring, staid, logical life was a huge disappointment compared to the excitement of her siblings.
Dev straightened her shoulders and marched toward her office.
She wouldn’t think about that conversation or her wishes, or even regrets. She had a job to do in Italy—take stock of the house and get it sold. Their mother’s financial records showed no strange deposits or withdrawals, and she’d kept to a reasonable monthly budget. She’d definitely not been renting out the house for extra income, so maybe it had been willed to her and she’d forgotten. Or hadn’t gotten around to telling any of her daughters about it. A bit financially lazy, but Dev would take care of it. She’d already researched prices and they’d all make a tidy bundle.
Cracking the identity of the mysterious R was a bonus. Deep inside, she didn’t believe Mom could have an illicit romantic affair and hide it from them. There was a reasonable explanation, and when they figured it out, they’d all return home and things would get back to normal. Bailey probably romanticized the entire thing as a dramatic end to a play or romance novel.
But Dev sensed the true secret had nothing to do with an epic affair or love letters.
It was about loneliness. Mom had been cheated on, her trust shattered by their father. So, she’d made friends with what-ifs. Dreams of who she once was, and who she could have been before she married, had kids, and gave up herself for everyone else.
Dev would never do that.
Dragging in a breath, she calmed down, cleared her mind, and got back to work.
chapter seven
Bailey
She stood outside on the front lawn, naked, staring up at the stars.
Toes curling in the soft grass, Bailey took a breath, slightly drunk on the sweet night air while the symphony of crickets hummed all around her. The slight danger of someone walking by and catching sight of her added an edge of excitement she seemed to constantly crave. Not that she’d be embarrassed. She’d made peace with her body and treated it like a lesson in kindergarten.
You get what you get and you don’t get upset.
She liked her gentle curves and long blond hair. She disliked her small breasts, big feet, and the mole on her left cheek she always had to check with her dermatologist. She had been gifted with vision to see things others didn’t that fueled her creative passion. Whether it was a scene to enact in a play, a drawing to etch, or a scene to capture on canvas, she was always driven forward.
Bailey lifted her arms in the air, wide, a smile playing on her lips. She’d always felt so different from her family—her mother, who’d stayed in that big empty house because she was afraid to go anywhere else and explore; Dev, who seemed married to work, as if it was the only true thing to cling to in the world; and Pris, who walked away from her dancing career to be a wife and mother and now looked like she was only half alive.
Now, though, she wondered about Mom. Her thoughts drifted to this past afternoon.
When Bailey arrived at her father’s house, she was hopeful the mystery would finally be solved. Dad seemed puzzled, rubbing his head back and forth in his habitual gesture of deep thinking. They’d sat at the overlarge dining room table that was decorated with fancy china as if the queen was dropping by for a visit. His new wife, Tabitha, was young and hot and loved expensive things. Bailey always wondered if Dad would have married her if she hadn’t gotten pregnant, but that had sealed the deal. Bailey’s half sibling was now a spoiled teen who wanted nothing to do with her half sisters.
Dad was definitely beginning to look more tired than usual.
He spoke slowly, as if trying to think hard. “Your mother never mentioned a house in Italy. I think I met her aunt Silvia at our wedding, but I don’t remember when she passed. I know we didn’t go to her funeral. Are you sure she inherited a house in Italy?”
“Here’s the deed.” Bailey handed it over. “Dad, it seems really weird she would have kept this a secret from you. I mean, isn’t that also communal property for the divorce settlement?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have fought her on that anyway,” he murmured. “I know I was at fault.”
“Okay, but what if you’d wanted to take a vacation? She had a whole house in Positano available! Was she taking secret trips there or something? Renting it out and pocketing the money? Dev is looking into her financials.”
“No! Geez, your mother practically never left the house without you kids, and I can guarantee you never went to Europe. As for money, we had plenty. It makes no sense.” He stared at the papers in front of him for a while. Suddenly, he lifted his gaze and looked at her with a hint of shame. “To be honest, Bae, there was one time she left by herself.”
“To Italy?”
Dad nodded. “Yeah, but I never thought she had a house to stay at. We were having some . . . issues. She decided to take some time to think things through and said she wanted to see some art. She ended up going to Italy for two weeks. You know, to do museum tours and stuff like that in Rome.”