"Where is my father?"
"He's grieving, Miss Lacey," Jerry said.
"Why hasn't he spoken to me?"
"He said he will speak to you when you arrive."
"We should be there in the hour," I said, ending the call.
River reached for my hand. He didn't have to say a word to comfort me. I loved him for that.
"River?"
"Yeah, darling?"
"I'm sorry for whatever happens."
"You have nothing to worry about. Whatever is waiting, we'll get through it together. And if we get there and you decide you don't want this, then we leave. I just want you to find whatever closure you can get in all this shit from your past."
"I just never understood them. How they could be so fake? How they could never experience love?"
"They had a different kind of love, Lacey. A love for material items. To me, that's wrong, but to others, it's what they want. We can't change people, darlin'. We can only be ourselves."
I made a move and put my hand on top of his.
The world sped by, the seconds and the road pulling me closer to my parents.
"River?" I asked again.
"Talk to me, Lacey," he said.
I swallowed hard and looked out the window.
"I don't have a good feeling about this … at all."
And I was right.
We arrived at the massive house, and Jerry was waiting out front. The sprawling house-more like a mansion-made Tate's large house look like a garage.
Jerry was in a fancy suit and stood stoically, almost like he was afraid to move until we addressed him.
The steps to the house were wide and there was plenty to climb.
The entire way, River kept a tight lock to my hand. He was constantly reassuring me things would be okay. Even if it was lie, it was a comfort lie. The only kind of lie I would ever accept from River.
"Miss Lacey," Jerry said with a weak smile.
The only thing missing from his attire was a pair of white gloves.
We shook hands and then he addressed River. "Can I have your name, sir?"
"Oh, trust me, he knows who I am," River said.
"Very well. Miss Lacey, your father would like a word with you." He glanced at River again. "Alone."
I opened my mouth, but River stepped in.
"Not a chance," River said. "We're here together. I'm here to help her. Bad enough nobody contacted her when her mother was ill. Now she missed her passing? I refuse to step away from my love."
"Right," Jerry said. "Very well. This will upset Mr. William, you understand."
"I'm used to letting him down," I said. "Now, can someone please tell me when the services are for my mother?"
Jerry ignored my question and opened the massive front door. Excuse me, he opened one of two massive doors.
The inside of the house was something out of a television show. A grand staircase that could be walked up from either the left or right. The middle was wide-open, large foyer with a chandelier hanging high above our heads. To the right, I saw a small room that had a couple chairs and a piano. To the left was a room with a couch, two chairs, a large stone fireplace, and a table that had a tray with a bottle of booze on it. Everything was perfectly designed, perfectly put into place, and I bet most of the rooms in the house were barely used.
"May I interest you both in a drink?" Jerry asked as he led the way from the foyer down a long hallway.
The hallway ended where the kitchen began. A kitchen, my mind, that was bigger than my apartment. Everything was marble, stainless steel, white with gold. Just money thrown around like it was nothing.
"Did you hear me?" Jerry asked.
"Yeah," I said. "I don't want anything."
"No thanks," River said.
"Well, Mr. William is expecting you, Miss Lacey. He's in his private office on the east wing of the estate. I can take you there personally. However, I must again advise against Mr. River attending."
"You can tell Mr. William he can kiss my … "
"It's okay," I said, putting a hand to River's arm. "I'll go alone."
"What?"
I looked up at River. "I have to face him. Face this. Wait here for me?"
"I'll wait anywhere you want me to," River said. He touched my face. He kissed me. "Just walk away when you need to."
"I did it before," I said with a grin. "I can do it again."
I broke away from River and left him standing in the kitchen.
Jerry led the way through hallways, rooms, all the way to another wing of this sprawling house. The thing that struck me the most was that there wasn't a single picture of my parents anywhere. Certainly no pictures of me. But how could they be in a marriage and have this so-called dream home and not have a single picture of themselves anywhere?