Page 161 of The Housekeeper

Chapter Sixty-three

“What’s this abouta new lawyer?” Tracy demanded as we climbed back into my car.

“Wait,” I told her, backing out of the driveway, wanting to put as much distance as I could between us and the house before I said anything, at the same time trying to figure out how I could reveal what I knew without betraying Ronald Miller’s confidence. “Look,” I told my sister when we were several blocks away. “It’s not important how I know. The important thing isthatI know.”

“You know for a fact that Elyse took Dad to see a new lawyer, that she’s pressuring him to give her power of attorney and to change his will?”

“Yes.”

She paused, absorbing the news. “Does Elyse know you know?”

“Not unless Dad tells her.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I have no idea. I’m not sure how much of anything we said in there got through to him.”

“Do you think he’ll call the police?”

I shrugged.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Can I stop you?” I asked, and we both smiled.

“Why are you so concerned about what happens to Dad? I mean, I know whyI’mdoing this. It’s because I’m a selfish, spoiled brat and I don’t want Elyse getting her hands on my inheritance. But I don’t think it’s about the money with you. So, what is it?”

“I don’t understand the question,” I told her honestly. “I’m concerned about Dad. He’s my father and I love him.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

She twisted her body toward me, her brow wrinkling in confusion. “What’s to love?”

Her question caught me off guard. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. What do you love about him? Other than you’resupposedto love your father. When was the last time he said anything even remotely nice to you?” she continued when I failed to come up with a response.

I didn’t have to give her question more than a second’s thought. The truth was that I could sit here all day and not be able to remember the last time my father had paid me any sort of compliment. “I admit that he doesn’t make it easy, but…”

“He’s a miserable, self-centered son of a bitch.”

“He took good care of Mom all those years,” I offered, wondering why I was taking such pains to defend him. “He stopped working so he could be home to look after her…”

“Are you kidding me? He loved it. Her condition gave him total control. The last few years, Mom was more his prisoner than his wife.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Who says the truth has to be fair?”

I had no answer for that.

“Do you miss her?” Tracy asked.

“I miss theideaof her,” I answered honestly. “What about you?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”