Priscilla went to her tote bag and fished out some tissues, handing them to her mother before she sat on the sofa again. “You don’t need my pity; you have so much of your own.”
“How dare you say such a thing to me!” The fire was back and directed at her.
“Mother,” she began, “I am not your enemy.” No, my husband is. “I want you to face the truth. You lash out because you’re in pain. You lost your husband, but not your life—”
“Is that what he tells you? Is that what he sent you here to say?”
“Griff doesn’t know I’m here. No one does.” She sighed. “You’re changing the subject. Look, I’m not your little girl anymore. I’m not coming back. I want more for my life. I stink at piano. I stink at etiquette.”
“And manners. And grammar,” her mother pointed out.
“Life is what you make it, Mother. You have to decide if you want to be miserable by yourself or try to find happiness, even a little bit, and maybe, just maybe you can earn your way back into our family. Don’t you want to see Charlie’s twins when they’re born? They’re a part of Daddy. You’ve alienated everyone, including the Colonel.”
“He…” She took a sip of her drink. “Doesn’t like my meddling.” Her admission must have cost her dearly.
“I don’t blame him. None of us do.”
“He had a little snit and I thought he would return. But,” she looked away, “he hasn’t.”
“Do you love him?” Priscilla held up her hands, saying, “Wait, as much as you can love another man?”
Her mother shrugged. “I suppose I do.”
“Call him.”
“I am not crawling to him and begging.”
“You don’t have to. Here.” Priscilla dug for her cell phone. “I’ll break the ice and call for you.” She scrolled to find his number, found it, and then held up her phone. “Just nod your head if you agree.”
She watched her mother swallow hard and give her a barely noticeable nod.
Priscilla hit the number and waited. It rang three times before he answered. “Colonel? This is Priscilla.”
His blustery voice boomed. “Is anything wrong, dear?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Agnes? What’s happened?” His concern told her everything she needed to know.
“She misses you, Colonel. Do you think you could call her and talk? Maybe make up?”
“That blasted woman. You tell her if she wants to talk, then she has to be the one to call me. Have a good day, dear,” he said, hanging up.
“You heard?” Priscilla asked, putting her phone away.
Her mother nodded, staring down at the remnants of her drink.
“He’s not Daddy. No one will ever compare, but he seems to care for you.”
“He does love the dog,” she said, “and he treats me well enough.”
“Maybe it’s time to make some changes.” She got up and walked to her mother’s side. Leaning down, Priscilla kissed her on the cheek. “For now, I can’t see you for a while. But I do love you. Remember that.”
With each step she took toward the door, Priscilla felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
Somewhere she knew her stepfather would be proud of her. Somewhere along the way, she realized she’d grown into the King name. She was a King. No one could deny it.
***
“Yo, baby girl,” Bruno greeted Priscilla as she carried the box of food into the quiet store.
“Pick your poison, friend,” she said, holding the box up. He peered over the edge. “I suggest the grilled meatloaf sandwich. It’s the one on top to my right.”
“Sounds good to me.” He reached in and grabbed it. “You pulling an all-nighter with your hubby? The workers got the women’s department demoed already.”
Francie came in with Marcus following close behind, both laden with boxes, too. “It’s only her design,” her sister boasted. “Of course she’s going to come. But all night? We’ll have to see if we drop before dawn.”
“I’m betting Francie falls asleep first,” Marcus said, “in the linen department. I don’t call her my Sleeping Beauty for nothing.”
“Stop,” Francie said. “I only did it once.”
“Once is enough for me,” her husband teased.
After Bruno promised he’d drop by on his rounds in another two hours, Priscilla followed her sister and brother-in-law to the escalators. She was happy for them, truly she was, but it only magnified her own situation.
Charlie and Francie had talked to her about Griff, urging her to listen to him and give him another chance. After all, he hadn’t enacted his wrath or revenge on them. In fact, he’d done everything in his power to turn the store around for them. He had a conscience. And, they insisted, he loved her; it was clear for anyone to see.