“You’re shoulding again,” Lillian said gently.
“I am. Sorry. I’ll try to stop. It’s just, I feel I’m being forced to confront my every mistake. It’s a big list.”
“Then we’ll start small. Your job.”
“I’m not working enough hours. Managing the inventory doesn’t pay much. In sales, I’d at least get a commission.”
“You could open your own store.”
Robyn glared at her great-aunt. “We’ve talked about this, and you’ve promised never to die, so no.”
“Darling, I won’t live forever.”
“Yes, you will. I insist.”
Lillian chuckled. “I’m sorry, but you don’t have that kind of power. Besides, I’ve lived a good life. I’m ready when the time comes. You know you’re inheriting the contents of the house, so start thinking about what to do with everything.”
“I don’t want to,” Robyn said automatically, even as she thought about what a daunting job sorting through the rooms would be. There were museum-grade pieces and artwork, and some things that were total crap.
“It would take a while,” Lillian said mildly.
“At least a year.”
“That year is in the will. I’m hoping the house gets sold to the local historical society.”
Robyn nodded. Lillian had mentioned that before.
“Some things should stay with the house,” Robyn said, picking up a piece of shrimp. “Some belong in a museum. Did you get someone in for the Renoir?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. You could take care of that for me while you’re here. And maybe start categorizing things. Even being generous in what stays and what goes to museums, you’d still have enough for ten antique stores.”
She was right, Robyn thought. Something she’d never considered. “I’ll refresh my memory on what’s here. Work will help me clear my mind and figure out my future.”
“Excellent. Will Harlow visit while you’re here?”
Not a happy change in topic.
“No. She’s working, and we’re currently not speaking.”
“That will change,” Lillian told her. “She loves you.”
“And I love her, but lately all we do is fight.” Robyn shifted on her seat. “It’s my fault. I told her she was too young to get married, and that didn’t go over well. I probably said it wrong. And I spoiled her when she was little.”
“She was sick and nearly died. You’re allowed to be indulgent.”
“For a while. I let it go on too long. I was thinking about this on the plane. Once she was better, I was so happy that I never required anything from her. I just wanted her to be a normal kid, having fun. I didn’t put limits on her the way I should have, and now she’s entitled and selfish.”
She remembered the ugly words she and Harlow had exchanged about the need to sell the house.
“I wish we didn’t always fight,” she admitted. “When I was her age, I was working with Cord, taking out charters seven days a week with a baby strapped to my chest.”
Lillian smiled. “A wonderful visual, so thank you for that. You have to remember Harlow’s matured at a different rate from other girls her age. She lost two years of her life to cancer—that would have arrested her emotional growth. She’ll catch up.”
Robyn grabbed Lillian’s hand. “I love you so much. You were raised in such a different time with a worldview I can’t imagine, yet you are providing insight about my children.”
“I do my best.”
Robyn released her and picked up her drink. This was exactly why she’d come here. To hang out with one of her favorite people and know she was loved and cared for. Lillian had always provided wise counsel and a place to recover, whether when Robyn had been eleven and had just lost her mother, or carting her five-and one-year-olds there after she’d learned that Cord had cheated on her.
Robyn heard footsteps and expected to see Salvia with another appetizer. Instead a man, about six feet with short, dark hair, walked onto the patio. She’d never seen him before, yet he moved with an ease that said he was comfortable in his surroundings, only stopping when he saw Robyn.
“I didn’t know you had company,” he said, his voice low with a hint of command.
Lillian waved him forward, holding out her hand as he approached. “Mason, I was hoping you’d stop by.” She smiled up at him.
Robyn did her best to keep her mouth from dropping open. Lillian obviously liked the man. Yes, he was good-looking, and people shouldn’t be alone if they didn’t want to be, but he had to be at least fifty years younger, and was she being judgmental to think some version of ew?
Lillian turned to Robyn. “You two finally get to meet. This is Mason Bishop.”
“Is it?”
Lillian laughed. “I can tell you have no idea who I’m talking about. Darling, this is the man who’s going to inherit the house.”
nine
“ARE YOU SURE?” Robyn asked before she could stop herself. Unexpected resentment mingled with fear and jealousy. “Have you confirmed his identity or spoken with your lawyer?” She turned to Mason. “Any proof that you’re related to Leo?”
Lillian’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t speak. Mason’s calm expression never changed.
“Nice to meet you, Robyn,” he said with absolutely no edge to his voice. “I saw Lillian’s lawyer a couple of days ago. As for confirming my identity, Lillian reached out to me. Not the other way around.”
“He’s right, I did,” her great-aunt assured her. “Years ago. We’ve been corresponding, me more than him, but you know how men are.” Lillian leaned toward her. “Please don’t be angry. I should have said something. I just thought your meeting would be a lovely surprise.”
Robyn tried to understand. She’d always known the house was going to a relative of Leo’s, but the specifics had been vague at best. Lillian had implied she didn’t know anything, either.
Apparently that wasn’t true. Apparently they’d become good friends, and now he was here.
“You’ve been in touch with him for years, and you never said anything?”
“Oh, dear.” Lillian’s mouth turned down. “I’ve hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt.” Not exactly. The situation was just confusing and not at all what she’d expected, and she didn’t like any part of it. She looked at Mason. “How long have you been living here?”