Page 60 of The Bargain

“He was better.”

“No, Deano, he wasn’t.” She sighed. “I know you still refuse to believe it, but our brother was sick, just as our mother was sick.”

“But she - “

“She ‘nothing,' Dean. Our brother had refused to accept he was bipolar. He'd refused any and all treatment I'd tried to get him to take. I’m not to blame. She’s not to blame.You’renot to blame.”

“I've never said I was,” I replied defensively.

She let out a humorless laugh. “You don't have to. It is plain as day, but I've known better than try to convince you otherwise. You’re so full of guilt, but maybe now you’re more receptive to hearing it.”

I sighed, looking at Timothy. What would happen if I stopped blaming her? Stop hating her?

Are you hating her now?the little voice in my head piped in.

“Speaking about Opal…”

“Uh-huh...” I'd started the conversation by calling; I couldn’t stop it now.

“We have the Beaumont hundred-year party in ten days. Is she allowed to come or is she to be locked in her tower like a dirty little secret?”

I rolled my eyes. Opal was my dirty little secret in so many ways. “Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that.” Her tone was teasing, but firm and I was not sure I wanted to hear her clinical assessment.

“She can come if she wants to, but I highly doubt she’ll want to.” I was having a taste of my own medicine and I didn’t like it.

“Dean, what did you do?”

I shook my head. We were coming up to the gates now. I didn’t have time for this. “What do you want from Opal?”

“Ask her to come with me for a spa day before the gala.”

I winced. I hated the idea of Opal spending some time with my sister, of telling my sister all the shameful things I'd done.

I sighed. Oh, what the hell. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go. “You know what, I’ll give you her phone number. Do as you wish.”

“You are willingly giving me a way to contact her?”

I shrugged before realizing she could not see me. “Why not? You don’t want to?”

“Yes, I do! Tell her I’ll call her later.”

I gave Lea Opal's number just as we parked in front of the house. Mrs. James came down the stairs to meet us.

“I can take little Timothy back to his room if you wish, sir,” she said in her usual calm soothing tone, but I knew better. She was trying to help Opal avoid me.

Nice try.

I tightened my hold on the handle of the baby carrier and shook my head.

“No, thank you. I need to have a word with Ms. Collins”.

I took Timothy back upstairs, a bit nervous, hoping that she would be a little more receptive.

I walked into the nursery, set the seat on the floor, and knocked on the connecting door.

When she opened it, I noticed the laptop and schoolbooks opened all over her bed.

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