Page 61 of For the Love of Lilah
“No.” Colleen waved Suzanna’s warning aside. “Let me see him.” Fred wriggled, smearing dirt on Colleen’s pristine white suit as she sat him in her lap. Her hands shook as they stroked his fur. “I had a dog named Fred once.” A single tear spilled over and down her pale cheek. “I only had him for a little while, but I loved him very much.”
Saying nothing, Lilah groped for Max’s hand and held tight.
“You can play with him, if you want,” Alex told her, appalled that someone so old would cry. “He doesn’t really bite.”
“Of course he won’t bite.” Recovering, Colleen set the dog on the floor, then straightened painfully. “He knows I’d just bite him back. Isn’t someone going to show me to my room, or do I have to sit here all day and half the damn night?”
“We’ll take you up.” Lilah tugged on Max’s hand so that he rose to help her to her feet.
“Bring the brandy,” Colleen said imperiously, and started out stumping with her cane.
“Delightful relatives you have, Calhoun,” Sloan murmured.
“Too late to back out now, O’Riley.” Amanda heaved a relieved breath. “Come on, Aunt Coco, I’ll help you in the kitchen.”
“Which room have you stuck me in?” Only slightly breathless, Colleen paused on the second-floor landing.
“The first one, here.” Max opened the door, then stepped back.
The terrace doors had been opened to let in the breeze. The furniture had been hastily polished, a few extra pieces dragged in from storage. Fresh flowers sat atop the rosewood bureau. The wallpaper was peeling, but paintings had been culled from other rooms to hide the worst of it. A delicate lace spread had been unfolded from a cedar chest and adorned the heavy four-poster.
“It’ll do,” Colleen muttered, determined to fight the nostalgia. “Make sure there are fresh towels, girl. And you, Quartermain, is it? Pour me another dose of that brandy and don’t be stingy.”
Lilah peeked into the adjoining bath and saw all was as it should be. “Is there anything else, Auntie?”
“Mind your tone, and don’t call me ‘Auntie.’ You can send a maid up when it’s time for dinner.”
Lilah stuck her tongue in her cheek. “I’m afraid it’s the staff’s year off.”
“Unconscionable.” Colleen leaned heavily on her cane. “Are you telling me you haven’t even day help?”
“You know very well we’ve been under the financial gun for some time.”
“And you’ll still not get a penny from me to put into this cursed place.” She walked stiffly to the open doors and looked out. God, the view, she thought. It never changed. How many times over how many years had she envisioned it? “Who has my mother’s room?”
“I do,” Lilah said, lifting her chin.
Very slowly, Colleen turned. “Of course, you would.” Her voice had softened. “Do you know how much you favor her?”
“Yes. Max found a picture in a book.”
“A picture in a book.” Now the bitterness. “That’s all that’s left of her.”
“No. No, there’s much more. A part of her is still here, will always be here.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Ghosts, spirits—that’s Cordelia’s influence, and it’s a load of hogwash. Dead’s dead, girl. When you’re as close to it as I am, you’ll know that.”
“If you’d felt her as I’ve felt her, you’d know differently.”
Colleen closed herself in. “Shut the door behind you. I like my privacy.”
Lilah waited until they were out in the hall to swear. “Rude, bad-tempered old bat.” Then with a lazy shrug, she tucked her arm through Max’s. “Let’s go get some air. To think I’d actually felt something for her downstairs when she held Fred.”
“She’s not so bad, Lilah.” They passed through his room and onto the terrace. “You may be just as crotchety when you’re eighty-something.”
“I’ll never be crotchety.” She closed her eyes, tossed back her hair and smiled. “I’ll have a nice rocking chair set in the sun and sleep old age away.” She ran a hand up his arm. “Are you ever going to kiss me hello?”
“Yes.” He cupped her face and did so thoroughly. “Hello. How was your day?”
