Midnight in Austenland - Page 65/68

“Yeah. At least this visit’s almost over.”

“Weren’t you loving it?”

“No,” he said, which sounded like a synonym for “stupid.”

“But … but your dad said you were having the time of your life, and Justice said you called her ‘Mom.’ ”

“By accident, duh. She’s weird. She gets in your face all lovey and cutesy for a few seconds, then every night she locks herself in her room so we can’t bug her. And Dad turns on the TV like he doesn’t know what to say to us, and lately they go out for dinner and leave us with a pizza. It’s weird not having dinner all together, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“I really miss you, Mom.”

He missed her. He hadn’t said anything like that since he was little.

“I miss you tons, Al,” she said, using his nickname. As an infant, he’d resembled Al Gore to a disturbing degree—the VP era, not the bearded era.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” he asked, his voice worried.

Charlotte hesitated for three seconds—three seconds to imagine her two weeks with Eddie, three seconds to weigh her hoped-for happiness against Beckett’s. She did her best to keep any regret out of her voice when she said, “You bet.”

“Good,” he exhaled.

Charlotte cleared her throat and forced herself to smile so he could hear the smile in her voice. “How’s Lu been?”

Beckett snickered. “A huge pain in the—”

“Beckett.”

“Yeah, okay. But really, I wouldn’t hate it here so much if she weren’t so mopey.”

“She having a hard time with Justice?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. She’s always on the phone or with her friends complaining about Maggot Boy—don’t get mad at me, that’s what she calls him.”

“Who?”

“Maggot Boy. That guy, what’s-his-name.”

“Pete?”

“Yeah, she loved him sooooo much, and then he was a jerk apparently and now she hates him forever and ever. That kind of thing.”

“What did he do?” Charlotte asked casually.

“Two-timing, I guess.”

She knew it! Charlotte just knew it! And now her daughter was boyfriend-less! Yes! Wait—no! Oh no, poor Lu. Oh, ouch, poor thing. Why were boys so stupid? She’d kill that Pete! Well, maybe there’d been enough murder, lucky for him. Lu would find someone better. Charlotte believed that, and even hoped for it.

“Is Lu there?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

She could hear Beckett open the door and call to his sister, who yelled something back.

“She says she’s on her way out.”

“Let me just talk to her for two seconds.”

“Two seconds!” Beckett yelled.

A pause. Lu said, “Hi.”

“Hi baby. I just wanted you to know that I miss you.”

“Yeah. I got your letter.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then Beckett’s voice again. “She read that letter like a hundred times.”

“Shut up, Beckett!” Lu yelled from the distance.

Beckett laughed. Charlotte did a little dance.

Next, the phone made it to James’s hands. She could hear him walking while making idle chitchat, and another door closing. He was probably in his bedroom.

“We’re not going to be able to take the kids that weekend next month,” he said, a slight hem in his voice the only sign of shame.

Charlotte pursed her lips. Normally she would say “okay” and be done. But someone had tried to kill her, by golly, and she’d just given up hope of being with Eddie. After that, a person is entitled to a few questions.

“Why not?”

“Well, with my conference coming up—”

“Your conference is in November.”

“Right, so it’s only three months away and I need to prepare—”

“All weekend, every weekend next month, you’ll be preparing for your November conference.”

His voice slipped into a half whisper. “Justice never had children, you know. And these past weeks have been hard on her. I’m not sure a full month each summer is the best idea.”

Charlotte took a very deep breath, a breath that pulled right up from her toes and smoothed over the shout that had been building up in her chest.

“James Nathan Kinder, we are going to have this conversation one time, right now, and then never again. You are Lu and Beckett’s father. A father puts his children first. Before your new wife, before your work, before yourself. That’s what parenthood means. They love you, poor kids. They need you. And you will do everything in your power to make sure they know you love them too and are constantly, without hesitation, their father, on call day and night, their biggest supporter, their biggest fan, and the one man who will always open his home to them.”

“Of course, sure, in an ideal world, but—”

“No buts. Not a single but. This is a simple issue, Mr. Kinder. And in this single conversation that will never be repeated again, I’m going to give you a little incentive, since your heart appears to have shrunken to Grinch size and can’t be depended on to help your head make good choices. You think you’re safe because I signed divorce papers? Don’t sit back on your bank account. You were having an affair for months before our divorce, weren’t you? You were already breaking your marriage vows when you asked me to add your name to my accounts. You know Lenny wanted to go for the jugular during the negotiations, but I held him back. What do you think he’ll do if I give him a second chance?” She could almost hear James quivering on the other end. Lenny was an excellent lawyer, and James was fully aware Charlotte had muzzled him. Whether or not a renegotiation of the settlement was possible now that the divorce was final Charlotte didn’t know—but then, neither did James.

“We have your credit card statements for the past several years. You are a creature of habit, Mr. Kinder, and I suspect you left a trail of evidence—restaurants, hotel rooms, gifts. You also burned through a number of old friends who might have interesting testimonies to add. I have no doubt Lenny can prove that you were acting in ill faith long before you had rights to my money. And when he does, say good-bye to your nest egg.”