She had me there. She’d always been an attentive wife to him. Of course,

attentive

included her agenda, which was manipulative, conniving, and venomous. I couldn’t believe that I could dislike someone so much, but Denise had always been that splinter in my relationship with my father. She did everything in her power to keep us apart. Her jealousy was bizarre and childish. Who on earth was afraid of a father’s love for his child? It just made no sense to me. It never had.

And yet she was never that way toward my sister, Gemma. In fact, she and Gemma were fairly close. I had a feeling Dad’s leaving Denise affected Gemma much more than she was willing to admit. She knew how I felt about our stepmonster, and the fact that she couldn’t go to me when she needed support made me a very bad sibling. But the truth was, she couldn’t. I had no warm and fuzzies where Denise was concerned. She’d made sure of that from day one.

“I—I need you to talk to him. He’s been sick and, and he’s not thinking straight.”

“And what do you want me to say?”

She leveled an exasperated glare on me. “I want you to convince him to come back home where he belongs. He’s still weak. He still needs medical attention.”

“I’m sorry,” I said with a soft, humorless chuckle, “you want me to convince my father to stay with you? The bane of my existence? The woman who made my childhood a living hell? After everything you’ve put me through, you want my help? Are you insane?”

Too bad Gemma, a licensed psychiatrist, was at a conference in D.C. I’d call her and schedule an appointment for Denise ay-sap.

“What have I ever put you through?”

My temper flared again, and I bit my tongue, literally, to keep my emotions under control. When I lost control, the earth shifted beneath me. An earthquake in the middle of Albuquerque would do no one any good.

Reyes straightened as though worried I’d lose control as well. I closed my eyes and took several gulps of air. This wasn’t me. I didn’t hate people. I didn’t make them pay for their misdeeds. Too many departed had crossed through me. Too many times I’d seen what people went through, what they’d endured that made them become the people they were when they died. Until I’d walked a mile in her shoes, I could not judge Denise so completely. That would make me no better than she was. I opened my eyes to her stone face, the face that brought nothing but hurt feelings and knotted stomachaches. Maybe two miles.

“I just have one question,” I said, trying to hold the resentment from my tone lest I sound like her. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why? Why did you hate me from day one? Why did you treat me like a thorn in your side? What on God’s green earth did I ever do to you?”

She sighed in frustration and let her true colors show through. Her impatience with me, with anything I had to say. “I did no such thing, Charlotte. I don’t hate you. I never have.”

I leaned forward and gave her my best Sunday smile. “I’ll tell you what. When you can admit that you hate me with every fiber of your being, I’ll help you win back Dad. How does that sound?”

“I will never say such a horrible thing.”

I’d offended her. Sweet. “So you can feel it, you just can’t admit to it?”

She squeezed the pocketbook in her lap, her fingers flexing involuntarily. “Charlotte, can we talk sensibly?”

“Wait a minute,” I said as understanding dawned. “You’re here because Dad is fed up with the way you treat me, and you’re thinking that if we become besties, he’ll come back to you.”

“I’m here because I want us all to get into counseling together. Not just Leland and me, but all four of us, including your sister.” Reyes crossed his arms over his chest and went back to holding the wall up while I stood simmering in my astonishment.

She was a piece of work. “How about you go into counseling for you? Get over yourself. And when that happens, when you can be honest with me, we’ll talk again.” I was being so mean. I wanted to applaud myself. I wasn’t a mean person by nature, so it took a lot of energy to bring out the beast in me and stick with it for more than thirty seconds. Damned ADD. But I was so proud of myself. No more being a carpet for someone else to walk on. I was my own girl, and no one was walking on this carpet but me.

“Charley,” Cookie said through the intercom.

I poked the button. “Yes, Cookie?”

“Um, are you almost done? I need coffee.”

“Oh, sorry! I’ll get it made and bring you a cup.”

“Thanks. And can you bring me the box of Nilla Wafers while you’re at it?”

“Can do.” I jumped up and headed for the Bunn. “Priorities,” I said to Denise. “That’s what life is all about.” I filled the tank with water and scooped coffee into the basket. “And coffee. From now on, I am my own priority.” I picked up the box, fished out a Nilla wafer, and stuffed it into my mouth so I could talk with it full. “No more Chawley cawpet.” Or, well, mumble with my mouth full. Denise hated that shit. “Chawley—” I swallowed. “—Charley carpet has been ripped up, and the only thing left for people to walk on is cracked, splintered wood.” God, I was good at metaphors.

“I tried,” she said, rising and perching her purse strap on her shoulder.

“Yes. Yes, you did. And a noble effort it was.” I gestured toward the door, hoping she’d take the hint. “I’m not sure what all this is about, anyway. It’s not like we could really go into counseling. He’s leaving soon for the open sea.”

She turned back to me, her face full of surprise. She blinked and I felt an understanding wash over her; then she plastered on a fake smile, one full of pity with a heaving sprinkling of contempt. One I had seen far too many times in my twenty-seven years. “And here I thought you could detect lies.”

She strode to the door and opened it before I could stop her. “Wait. What lies?”

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, turning the tables, reveling in the power she’d just acquired. “When you can grow up and take a little of the responsibility for our failed relationship, I’ll tell you what your father’s really up to.”

Without another word, she walked out, leaving me speechless.

* * *

What my father was really up to? What did she mean by that? Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to investigate now, but Uncle Bob and I were going to have a long talk the minute I was finished with Mr. Joyce. In fact, that would be my excuse to get him to go over to my apartment that evening. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone. But that sounded so bad. What did those poor birds do to anyone? I decided to change that particular cliché to “Nothing like killing two bad guys with one bullet.” Better. Maybe it would catch on, become accepted worldwide. A girl could dream.

Mr. Joyce was already standing, waiting his turn with the impatience of a kindergartner waiting for his afternoon snack.

“Come on in,” I said to him, gesturing to the chair across from my desk as I headed to the Bunn to complete my promise to Cookie. She’d need CPR if I didn’t get her a cup soon. “So, what can I help you with?”

I poured Cookie’s cup, knowing full well she was interrupting my “meeting” with Denise only to save me from her. I adored that woman. Cookie! Not Denise. After taking the coffee to her and handing her the box of wafers with a wink, I started to close the door between our offices as she took a sip of the piping fresh brew. She rolled her eyes until I saw only white. It was kind of creepy. We were kindred spirits to the core.

“It’s a little embarrassing,” Mr. Joyce said after I offered him a cup, poured my own, then sat behind my desk. Reyes had disappeared as he was wont to do once any immediate danger was dispelled.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” I felt the agitation he was sporting externally, but I also felt anxiety and extreme fear. Like gut-wrenching fear.