He hung up. She removed her earbuds and stared out the French doors. She was more sad than angry. Kip didn’t want to face their problems, but until they were willing to deal with the truth, they couldn’t move forward with their future. Assuming they still had one.
* * *
Robyn stepped into her daughter’s room.
“Your brother says you’re moping,” she said cheerfully. “I’m not sure if that’s true, but either way, I thought you could help me go through the teacup room.”
She half expected her daughter to protest, but Harlow surprised her by scrambling to her feet and saying, “That sounds like fun.” She tucked her earbuds into the nightstand drawer, then shoved her phone into her shorts pocket.
“What are you looking for?” Harlow asked as they headed for the stairs.
“I want to go through the sets of dishes. There might be one or two I want to keep for myself. The rest will eventually be sold, unless you’re interested in one.”
“Really?” Harlow ran up the stairs. “I’d love a set. There are a couple I really like. And if I could have the Spode pattern 312 teacups and saucers, I would love that.”
Spode pattern 312 was beautiful, with gilding, pink roses and blue-and-yellow forget-me-nots. The design dated back to the very early 1800s.
“I think I saw a creamer in the same pattern,” Robyn told her. “I wonder if there’s a sugar bowl somewhere.”
“We’ll look.”
They went into the teacup room. As always, the sight of the beautiful cups and saucers made her happy. Delicate and elegant, they had once graced tables in regular houses with real people. They had been part of celebrations and sad days, held, filled, washed and dried. Somehow they had survived for years. Some for more than two centuries.
Harlow picked up a cup with the Spode pattern 312. “I feel like I’m holding a newborn chick.” She wrinkled her nose. “I guess hatched is a better word rather than born.”
“I’m more confused about when you would have held a chick at all.”
Harlow laughed. “I must have somewhere. Maybe summer camp.”
“I don’t remember seeing baby chicks on the streets of Naples.”
They grinned at each other, then settled on the floor in front of an oversized buffet. Several dish sets were stored in the long, low cabinets.
Robyn pulled open the left door, while Harlow drew back the right. The sturdy shelves overflowed with dishes.
“A lot to look at.” Harlow reached for a bowl.
“In every room. Doing inventory is a daunting task.” Robyn held out a pretty white-and-yellow plate. “I’ve been telling Lillian she can’t ever die because I love her, but also because I’ll be overwhelmed by going through the house.”
Harlow looked at her. “What will you do with it all?”
“Some will go to museums, some will stay with the house. The rest I’ll sell.”
“You’re going to start your own antique store?”
Robyn thought about how she’d been looking for a future, when it had been waiting for her right here. “Uh-huh. I’m starting online small business classes. When I head back to Naples, I’ll find a job with more hours and get to know all aspects of an antique store.”
She would watch her money and move to a smaller house, but she thought it was manageable. At least it was a plan, which was more than she’d had when she’d left Florida.
“That’s a lot.”
“It is, but it feels right.” She set the plate on the floor and pulled out a mismatched bowl. “How are you doing?”
“I don’t know. Kip and I are fighting.”
“About him being married before?”
“Among other things. He’s mad because I said I need time, but not telling me about Tracey is huge.” Harlow hesitated as if there were more.
“I get that,” Robyn told her, wondering how to encourage her daughter to share her thoughts. “It’s an odd piece of information to withhold. You were going to find out eventually.”
“I know, right? Plus to hear it from his parents. It was a nightmare. I had to sit through dinner, pretending everything was fine.”
Robyn ached for her and wished there was a way to take on some of her daughter’s pain. But Harlow was an adult and had to manage her own life.
“I’m glad you’re thinking things through,” she said. “It’s so easy to get caught up in emotion and make a decision you later regret.”
Harlow nodded. “I just wish there wasn’t so much right now, you know? Dad didn’t tell me the truth, either.”
Robyn knew she had to be careful with her words. “Sometimes your father doesn’t like to give bad news. But however it happened, you know he loves you.”
“I’ve started wondering if he and Kip are more alike than I realized. Kip knows about me being sick as a kid, and he’s been fine with it. He always treated me like I was capable. But he didn’t tell me about being married, or Dad dating Zafina. Maybe he’s protecting me more than I thought. I know Dad’s treating me like a child. Is Kip doing the same?”
“It could be Kip is, as you said, protecting you.” Robyn sucked in a breath and took a big ol’ risk. “It could also be your behavior.”
“Mom!”
“You can be emotional and difficult.”
Harlow stiffened. Robyn braced herself for a tantrum. Then her daughter surprised her by relaxing.
“You’re right. I do lead with my feelings. Like with you selling the house.”
“That was a big deal for you.”
Harlow looked at her. “Mom, you can’t tell me I’m immature and then defend my position.”
“I know, but it’s hard not to get between you and the bad stuff. A remnant from when you were sick. I try to take the hits for you. Some of this is on me.”
“You’re blaming yourself for my entitlement issues? No. Only one of us is responsible for that.” Harlow pressed her lips together. “Sometimes I’m ashamed. I can be such a bitch.”
“Well...” Robyn began, her voice teasing.
Harlow sighed. “You know I’m right. Except I feel like Dad tricked me on buying the business. I did everything I was supposed to do. He was totally on board the whole time, then poof. Everything changed. He’s so frustrating.”
Harlow looked at her. “How did you stay married to him for so long?”