With his jaw clamped together, David held the small of Emily’s back as they walked into the home.
Chapter Nineteen
Grandmother Marks
Emily tried to remain composed. She allowed herself to steal a few glances around as they entered. They came into a hall, lined with work staff ready to meet them. A woman offered Emily a tray with a small facecloth that she held it with a pair of tongs. Emily shot a look at David to see him washing his hands and the back of his neck with a towel.
“Thank you,” Emily said in a quiet voice to the woman, then copied David. The towel was steaming and the warmth flooded her senses as she washed her hands. This is amazing, she thought and resolved to microwave a wet towel each night to use before bed.
“You’re here, grand. We must go in right away,” Charles entered the hall and shook hands with his sons, before he kissed Catherine on her cheek.
He turned to Emily. “Lovely to see you again, my newest daughter-in-law.” He pressed his lips to her cheek, Emily smiled warmly at him. He addressed her as his daughter-in-law at David’s penthouse suite—back when she was merely pretending to be David’s wife. This time, it was true. She was his newest daughter-in-law.
“Thank you. Do I call you Dad now?” Warmth rose to her cheeks as she said the word.
He clapped his hand on her back, just like David would do. “Charles will do just fine.”
“How is she,” David asked his father. Charles turned to look at him gravely.
“Not well. The nurses are saying her kidneys are failing. It could be any day now.”
The group followed Charles out of the hall. Emily glanced one more time at the grand staircase, the central point of the entryway and home. She wondered how many rooms were upstairs.
They walked through to a garden room, and a realization dawned on her: she was about to meet Grandmother Marks. Not just that, but dying Grandmother Marks. She gulped. Their make-believe suddenly became very real. Could she pull this off? Would Grandmother Marks like her? Could Emily lie to a dying woman? Well, technically it was no longer a lie. Emily wriggled her fingers against the gold band on her left hand. Stirring emotions inside sent a bubble up to her chest. She glanced up at David, his jaw was clenched. He was tense. She wanted to plant tender kisses all over his face and hold him close. As if kisses could make everything better.
They walked out into a garden. It took all of Emily’s self-control not to gasp. A myriad of flowers bloomed in splashes of colors. The lilies were nearly her height and the sunflowers towered above her. It was like an explosion of confetti, and one bloom had large pointy petals the size of a dinner plate. As they walked along the gravel path crunching beneath their feet, the constant musical chirping of the bird from the aviary was relaxing. Emily looked around in the blazing sunshine and thought, If I were dying, this is where I would want to be. They turned a corner and a summer house stood before them. It was smaller than the main building, the sides covered with climbing ivy. With the tall men in front of her, she leaned to the side to get a better look at.
The front of the house was made entirely of glass—not a speck of dirt in sight. She wondered how many times the staff cleaned the windows to keep the glass looking like that.
The group stopped walking and Emily almost bumped into David. She clutched his arm and peered around him to see what was happening. Charles was speaking to a woman who looked like a nurse. She was dressed in blue scrubs and had an upside-down pocket watch clipped to her shirt. Emily used to have a pretend one as a kid; she loved that watch. David wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His face was somber, and his eyes glistened. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed uncomfortably against it. This was not going to be easy.
“Come in, quietly.” Charles motioned for them to follow. The collective energy changed, as though carrying an invisible weight.
“Mother, the boys are here.”
“Edward? David?”
“Yes.”
Emily squeezed David’s arm as he let her go and followed Edward to the bed positioned in front of the bay window. Emily stood beside Catherine, who was almost a foot taller than her. The two of them looked on in absolute silence as Edward and David stooped down to offer their grandmother a kiss.
A white cat lay curled up on the edge of the bed, sitting nose to tail. Emily looked at its dark, sorrowful eyes and wondered if the cat smelled death approaching.
“I’ve had a good life. Don’t feel bad for me,” she said to her grandsons. “Come now, none of these tears. Let me see your wives.”
Emily glanced at Catherine who gave a small smile at her before marching forward. Emily followed a few steps back.
Here goes nothing. She took a breath.
“Grandmother, I’m glad I got to see you, before you go.” Catherine’s voice was like a songbird. She kissed the woman in the bed and smiled serenely. She appeared genuine. Emily gawped and wondered whether this was her dark sense of humor or she was just as cold-hearted as Edward. The frail woman chortled knowingly. “Yes, I’m glad to see you too, before I pop my clogs.”
Emily resisted the urge to laugh at the sight of Catherine, who winked at her. Emily turned back to look at the grandmother who stretched out
