“My pleasure, Mrs. Harrington, although I doubt it will be yours.” The last part he added with a smirk.

Next, he opened the car door and stepped out, momentarily leaving me alone in the large space. As the warming October breeze blew through the open door, I listened to the voices. The first ones that came into range were Marcus and Lyle. Their camaraderie brought a smile to my lips. The boys were as close as Val and I. Although they’d been raised considerably differently than we, their closeness shone light on my dark heart. Apparently, having a bitch like Marilyn as a mother caused you to seek a confidant and a friend. Perhaps she had done one thing right in her parenting. She gave each of us that special sibling. I leaned my head out of the car. “Goodbye, Marcus and Lyle. Thank you for being here.”

They both smiled, reminding me of their father. They both had his brown hair and green eyes. The older they became, the more Randall I saw in them and the less Marilyn.

“You’re welcome, Vikki,” Marcus offered as he came near and reached down to offer me a hug. “Hope you feel better.”

I hugged him back. “I will. I need some rest.”

While continuing our hug, he whispered near my ear, “I know it’s you. Thanks.”

I pulled back, opened my eyes wide, and glanced toward our mother.

He shrugged. “She wants everyone to think that she’s the one paying for everything, but I’m not as young and stupid as I used to be.”

Grinning, I ruffled his hair. “Hey, no one ever said you were stupid. Stupid people don’t get accepted to the University of Miami.”

As he stood taller and smiled, I saw a man where there used to be a boy. “Val told me that you were accepted there too. I’m sorry you didn’t get to go. It’s really a great school. I haven’t been there that long, but I think I’m going to like it.”

At one time attending the University of Miami had been my greatest desire. Was that me or was it someone else? As Marcus spoke, Marilyn came near and put her arm around him. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

“Marcus,” I said, with a sad smile. “Keep me posted. Your old sister is proud too.”

“You’re not that old,” he quipped with a nod as he walked back to the second car.

“What did you tell him?” Marilyn asked as she joined me in the first limousine.

Before I could answer, Travis peered in, shook his head, and shut the door.

“Nothing, Mother. I didn’t tell him that I was paying his tuition, if that’s your concern. However, I suggest you try honesty with at least one or two of your children. It might work out better for you.”

She looked down. “Better than this?” Her voice sounded uncharacteristically weak.

“Yes, better than this. Don’t try to play me. I’m not in the mood. You just dropped a fucking bomb on me at my husband’s funeral. We’re taking you home. Start talking.”

“Home? No, Victoria, I’m going to stay with you, to take care of you, to help you.”

The car began to move as a laugh rang from somewhere deep inside of me. “No fucking way. I need some peace and quiet. You’d better start talking. Your time is ticking.”

She swallowed and stared toward the window. “I understand how you may feel like we’re not close—”

“Fucking stop! We’re not. You never raised me or cared for me. When I was young, you shipped me off to other family while you lived in a fucking bottle. Then when you got clean and married Randall, you shipped Val and me off to boarding schools.”

“It was only because—” she began.

“Because looking at me upset you. I remind you too much of my father and my twin. Hell, I probably still do. I’ve heard it my whole damn life. I’m not rehashing it all, but you and Randall fucking sold me.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

My head snapped toward her. “Tell me, what part of that statement isn’t entirely true?”

She became suddenly obsessed with a piece of lint that desperately needed extrication from her dress. “It was a desperate situation. You don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t had to deal with things like—”

My patience was wearing thin. “Marilyn, you have about fifteen minutes until we reach your door. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me. Don’t expect it. Move on.”

“Victoria, look at you. You’re a twenty-nine-year-old beautiful woman with more money than I can even imagine. So you married when you were young; things could be a lot worse. If Stewart hadn’t offered to marry you, things would have been much worse.”

Offered? Is that what he did or did he buy me? “Really, mother? Worse for whom? For me or for you? And by the way, I’m twenty-eight. Keep waiting for that mother-of-the-year award. I’m sure it’s coming any day.”

“Victoria, hear me out. You said to try honesty. That’s what I want to do. Will you listen?”

There was something in her voice, something I didn’t recognize. I nodded.

She straightened her neck and began. “I loved your father—your biological father—like no one else I’ve ever loved.” She moved her gaze toward the window as her tone became whimsical. “Our romance was something like you read about in books. It was, for lack of a better word, intense. He was unlike anyone I’d ever known. We weren’t from the same kind of family. Neither of our parents approved of us being together.”