The House on Honeysuckle Lane (30 page)

C
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59

E
mma felt that every breath was a challenge. She was shocked and embarrassed by how she had spoken to her sister-in-law; she had never been so rude to anyone in her life. She lifted her head and turned to Anna Maria, who was sitting in the armchair she had occupied earlier. Anna Maria looked stricken, almost ill. Emma was about to apologize sincerely and profusely when Daniel came storming back from the kitchen, clutching a half-empty bottle of wine by the neck.

“And you're not much better than Andie,” he said, pointing a finger at Emma.

This is getting worse by the minute,
Emma thought.
I've got to stop this.
But she realized she had no idea of how.

“Joe told me about the conversation he had with you the other day,” Daniel went on. “He told me that you were upset Mom chose me to be the trustee of her estate and not you, the big expert. How could you have doubted my abilities, my honesty?”

Emma shook her head. “I never doubted your honesty, Danny, not for a moment, and I certainly never told Joe that I had. And my wondering about your qualifications was my problem,” she argued, “not yours. You did a great job. I just felt—”

“You felt that I was incompetent. You felt that I'd make a mess of the estate.”

Emma could deny it no longer; her brother was now clearly drunk. It would be best, she thought, to keep her mouth shut and let Daniel run out of steam. There was never any use in arguing with someone under the influence.

“And you still haven't chosen a real estate agent like I asked you to!” Daniel said, gesturing with the open wine bottle and sloshing some of the wine onto the carpet. “The one thing I asked you to handle and you let me down.”

“I'm working on it, Danny,” Emma said quietly.

“How hard can it possibly be, especially after I did all the real leg work? Are you just lazy, is that it?”

Emma said nothing. She could feel Andie's distress; it was emanating from her like a wave of heat. Her own distress had made her grow cold. She could only guess at how bad Anna Maria was feeling.

Daniel had more to say. He put the bottle of wine onto the coffee table with a thud. “I don't know how I put up with the two of you. You didn't even want to take part in this morning's memorial service.”

“That's simply not true!” Andie protested, her voice strained.

“Danny,” Emma said, now seriously angry and insulted, “cut it out. You're acting like an insane person.”

Daniel chuckled and shot a pointed look at Andie. “Me, the insane one? I think you're talking about our sister. I was the one Mom and Dad turned to and trusted, right from the start. I was the one who mattered to them.”

Emma could hold her tongue no longer. She didn't care that Daniel was drunk. She didn't care what he thought or said about her at this point, but she would not allow her sister to be defamed and mocked yet again. Still, she was hardly aware of the words that spilled from her mouth. “You think you know everything about our parents, but they were
ours
, Danny, not yours exclusively.”

“I was
here
.”

Emma laughed and shook her head. “I bet you don't even know that Mom broke her first engagement to some high society type to marry Dad.” She felt her sister's hand on her arm, but restraint was no good now. The words were out.

Daniel's face became even more alarmingly red. “You're lying!” he cried.

“Why would I lie, Danny? What possible good could it do for me to lie about something like that?”

And then the unthinkable happened. Daniel stalked over to the fireplace and with one violent movement he tore the portrait of Cliff and Caro off the wall and threw it across the room. The painting landed against an end table, a corner of which tore through the canvas, leaving a brutal looking slash from Cliff's forehead down through Caro's shoulder.

Emma's hand flew to her mouth. She was horrified. She thought she might be sick. An unpleasant tingle ran through her from head to toe, as if she had experienced a bad electric shock. She glanced at her sister and thought she had never seen such a genuine look of fear on anyone's face. Anna Maria had gone deadly white.

After what seemed like an eternal moment, Daniel, breathing heavily, but in a very controlled voice, spoke. “Why don't the two of you just pack up and go back to where you came from,” he said. “I was stupid to think that I needed you here. Leave and I'll take care of everything like I always have and let you know what I decide. If you even care to know.”

With that he turned and began to stalk toward the front door. Anna Maria leapt from her seat and reached for his arm. “Daniel, no,” she cried, but he yanked his arm from her grasp and snatched his coat from the hall closet, sending the hanger clanging to the floor.

Anna Maria was crying now, and without looking at Emma or Andie, she grabbed her own coat and followed her husband out of the house.

The house seemed steeped in silence, a heavy, thick thing that threatened to choke Emma. She thought she would almost rather the sound of voices raised in anger to this shocking quiet.

Finally, she found her voice. “I guess we should clear all this away,” she said, helpless to say anything important, anything meaningful.

Andie got up from her chair. “It will wait until morning,” she said, and she left the living room without another word.

A moment later Emma heard the door to the den close firmly and quietly. She surveyed the wreckage of the evening, the wine stain on the carpet, the destroyed portrait, the photo albums strewn on couch and chairs and coffee table, the videos separated from their cases. Andie was right, she thought. There was nothing here that couldn't wait. With some effort she got up from the couch, turned out the lights, and slowly climbed the stairs to her bed.

C
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60

E
mma looked down at her empty plate. “I'm surprised I have an appetite after last night's scene,” she said to her sister. “I literally devoured those eggs.”

“I think my finally confessing to promising the desk to the OWHA revived my appetite,” Andie said ruefully, eyeing her own empty plate. “More's the pity.”

“And I slept like the proverbial log. I was sure I was going to be wide awake, replaying every awful moment of the argument.”

“The calm after the storm?” Andie wondered. “Or simply our bodies being smart enough to take over in order to give our minds a much needed rest.”

“I wonder if Danny was able to get any sleep.” Emma shook her head. “Until last night I didn't fully recognize the depth of his pain. He must have seen our behavior toward the whole question about the sale of the estate and the future of Mom's desk as an insult.”

Andie nodded. “I agree. I mean, I knew he was under a lot of pressure, self-imposed or not, but I had no idea he was
so
near the breaking point. I feel bad. I should have seen what was really going on.”

“Still, throwing the painting . . .” Emma shook her head.

“It was pretty extreme. Danny's never shown a temper like that. He must have been building up to that for weeks, months.”

“It's funny,” Emma said, “but I thought he seemed calm and at peace at the memorial service. I thought that maybe he'd let go of some of the tension he seemed to be holding. I guess I was wrong.”

“The calm
before
the storm?” Andie grimaced. “I have to say I always hated that painting of Mom and Dad. I don't know why.”

“You, too?” Emma asked. “It really was pretty awful. I suppose it was technically good, but there was something off about it. Anyway, I shouldn't have used the fact of Mom's first engagement as a weapon. It was childish of me, even mean. I wanted to hurt Danny. I wanted to shock him out of his complacency, his assumption of status as Keeper of the Flame.”

“None of us acted beautifully last night,” Andie said. “Except for Anna Maria. You have to admire her loyalty to Danny. She could have justifiably walked out on him when he threw the painting.”

Emma shook her head. “If Ian had ever behaved like Danny did last night I probably would have walked out on him for
good
at that very moment.”

“The difference is that Anna Maria loves Danny. You never loved Ian. Sorry,” Andie said. “That's educated guesswork.”

“No, you're right,” Emma admitted, toying with her fork. “I thought I loved him for a while, but it wasn't really love, not the right kind anyway. Still, there are limits to what someone should put up with, love or not.”

“I don't think Anna Maria is suffering at the hands of a violent lunatic, Emma. Danny's going through a crisis, a dark night of the soul maybe, that's all. I believe that.”

“Like what Rumi is going through?” Emma asked carefully. “And you?”

Andie sighed. “Maybe.”

Emma reached across the table and put her hand on her sister's arm. “Andie, I wish you had told me about promising the desk to the OWHA. I could have gone to Mary Bernadette before Danny had to know and told her there had been a mistake. I can handle her. I'm my mother's daughter. No one could intimidate Caro Carlyle Reynolds and no one can intimidate me. Well, almost no one.”

Andie smiled. “I
should
have gone to you. I was tempted to more than once, but honestly, I was just so embarrassed by what I had done. I was paralyzed.”

“You don't have to be embarrassed with me. Remember when I was in college and I thought I was pregnant and came crawling to you, begging for you to help me out? And you did. You were great. You didn't try to make me feel ashamed that I'd been stupid enough to have unprotected sex.”

“I just did what any big sister would do. And thanks for the offer of talking to Mary Bernadette, but that's something I need to do on my own.”

“If you're sure.”

“I am. Anyway, I think Bob should know what happened here last night,” Andie said. “I'll call him a bit later. But no one else.”

“You mean not Rumi. Of course.”

“Yes. Well, what do we do now?”

“I'm completely out of ideas,” Emma admitted. “I think we should call Anna Maria and let her advise us about how to go forward.”

Andie nodded and reached for her phone. “I'll call her right now.”

C
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61

A
ndie and her sister met with Anna Maria at Cookies 'n Crumpets at two that afternoon. After ordering—an herbal tea for herself, a latte for Emma, and a decaf coffee for Anna Maria—the women sat at the table furthest from the others.

“Privacy,” Anna Maria said, “is hard to come by in this town. I suppose we should have met at the house but . . .” She half laughed. “I've had enough of Thirty-Two Honeysuckle Lane for the moment.”

“Thanks for agreeing to see us at all after last night's . . . I don't even know what to call it,” Andie admitted.

“Debacle? Meltdown?” Emma shrugged. “Whatever it was, I'm glad it's over.”

Anna Maria sighed. “Me, too. But things can't magically go back to the way they were before Daniel became so . . . It's just that he's so emotionally invested in the family. In the
idea
of family. He wasn't always this way. It's only since Cliff died and Caro became ill that he became, well, became obsessed. The family means so much to him, too much at times.”

“It must be hard on you,” Andie said. “You must feel ignored. You must feel that sometimes Danny doesn't really see you.”

“Honestly,” Anna Maria admitted, “yes, it can be hard, and yes, I do sometimes feel ignored, though I know that Daniel loves me. Since Caro's passing he's been ratcheting up. Frankly, when he told me he was going to insist you both be here for Christmas I was worried. I half suspected something like what happened last night was going to happen.”

Andie put her hand on her sister-in-law's arm. “You couldn't have done anything to stop it, you know that. Danny was angry. He wasn't focused on the truth. He was focused on himself.”

Anna Maria shrugged. “Maybe I couldn't have stopped it. Still . . .”

“I'm sorry I told you to butt out when you tried to calm things down,” Emma said. “Only days before I was hoping that you would take a more vocal part in our crazy family matters. I shouldn't have spoken to you so harshly.”

“It was the heat of the moment,” Anna Maria said. “You're forgiven. And maybe I shouldn't have tried to butt in. It's the peacekeeper in me.”

Andie shook her head. “You should have thrown a bucket of cold water over us all. How is Danny today?”

“Besides a bit hung over? Miserable. He's not a drinker. I don't know what possessed him last night, but I think he learned his lesson.”

Andie smiled. “Danny did us a favor actually, destroying that painting. Emma and I were saying this morning that neither of us liked it. Dad's eyes seemed to follow you around the room. And the expression on Mom's face made her look like she was about to be sick to her stomach.”

“Daniel wants to get it repaired,” Anna Maria told them.

“That would cost a fortune,” Emma said. “He shouldn't bother, really.”

“I agree,” Anna Maria said. “I think that if he can manage to let the painting go, it might be a symbolic gesture, something that helps him to let go of his grip on his parents as people he still needs to please and impress. Maybe he can finally live out from under their shadow.”

Andie nodded. “I think you're right. It would be good for Danny to let the painting go. But for now it can stay in the hall closet where I put it this morning.”

“So, how do you think we should approach Danny?” Emma asked.

Anna Maria frowned. “He should be the one to approach you. He owes you both a big apology and he knows it.”

“It doesn't matter who approaches whom,” Andie said, “as long as we all make peace.”

“Will you tell him that we three talked?” Emma asked. “I don't want him to think Andie and I are actually going to leave Oliver's Well before Christmas because of a stupid fight.”

Anna Maria smiled. “I doubt he really meant that you should go. He so wanted to spend Christmas with you both. Not all of his reasons had to do with the estate. He genuinely misses you two. “

“We
will
spend Christmas together,” Andie said. “Emma and I aren't going anywhere.”
At least,
she added silently,
not yet.