Bedroom Diplomacy(54)

“Dylan and I won’t be here. I’m not even sure I want you to see him anymore. Not until you make some changes.”

“What?” he said, sounding outraged. “I’m his grandfather. You cannot keep him from me.”

“I’m his mother. I can raise him however I see fit. And I don’t think you’re a particularly good influence on him. I want him to learn to respect women. He won’t with you around. You treat me disrespectfully in front of him. Boss me around.”

“All right,” he said, folding his arms. “You win. What do you want?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything.”

“Everyone has a price. Do you want a larger allowance? Your own house? Credit cards with no limits? Just name it, so we can put an end to this ridiculous little game you’re playing.”

“I’m not sure how to say this so that you’ll understand. I don’t want anything from you. Nothing. I would rather live in a cardboard box and eat garbage than take another dime from you.”

Her father was speechless. Did he finally realize that he had run out of options?

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” she said. “Feeling so out of control. That’s been my life for more than three years.”

“Is that what this is? Some sort of revenge. You want to see me suffer?”

“Any suffering you brought on yourself. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ve owned up to them, apologized for them and made peace with myself. But I’m guessing that you have never apologized, or for that matter even felt guilty, for a single rotten thing you’ve ever done. And if you don’t make peace with the people you’ve hurt, you’re going to end up a very lonely and pathetic, angry old man with no friends and no family. And though I should probably hate you, the truth is, I just feel sorry for you.”

“You’ll be back,” he said, but his face looked pale and there was no conviction in his words.

“Believe that if it makes you feel better,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Before she could make it to the door he said, “Rowena, wait.”

She turned to him.

“You don’t understand. You’ve always been so independent, so like your mother.”

“And you haven’t been shy about telling me that’s a bad thing.”

“I loved her, but that wasn’t enough. She left anyway. Then you went so wild, I was always scared that I would get a phone call from a hospital or police station telling me that you were hurt, or even dead. Then you came back to me, you and Dylan… I just didn’t want to lose you again.”

“You’re suffocating me.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Well, then, come and see me when you figure it out. “

“But if I promise to change—”

“I need to do this. I need to be on my own for a while, just to prove to myself that I can do it.”

“If you need anything—”

“I won’t call you. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

*

Two days later, Colin was in Washington, working with one of the senator’s attorneys on the treaty language, when his sister called. And he could tell by her tone that something was wrong.

“It’s Mother,” she said, her voice rough from crying. “She had a stroke last night. She’s in a coma, and they don’t expect her to make it more than a day or two.”

Colin cursed silently. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He explained the situation to the senator’s attorney, and on his way to the hotel to pack, he arranged for a private plane to take him to London.

The flight was long and boring, giving him too much time to think. About Rowena and Dylan, and how miserably alone he had been since she left. He had dated many women, but never had he longed for a woman, needed her deep down in his soul, the way he did Rowena. No one else even came close. He’d picked up his phone to call her at least a dozen times a day. Sometimes he even went as far as dialing, but he never let it ring. She was starting her new life, learning to be independent and take care of herself. He had no right bother her until he knew exactly what he wanted.

When he arrived in London, his mother was still hanging on, and as he walked into her room, saw her lying there looking so old and frail, he tried to conjure up an emotion—any emotion—that would make him feel as if he were losing his mother. He couldn’t do it. He felt bad that she was dying—as much for Matty because she would no longer have anyone to take care of—but he didn’t feel as if he was losing a significant person in his life.