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Faro shrugged. “It wasn’t.”
“But it was something you were aiming for?”
“Des!” Faro laughed. “Why so serious? This weekend isn’t about that, you know?”
“Is that right? Because it sounded pretty serious last night.”
“Because you all are making it that way.” Some of the lightness in Faro’s voice had dissolved.
Desree nodded, folding her arms across the front of the knit plum sweater she wore. “You’re the one who invited us all out here. Clearly there’s a reason, and evidently it’s a reason that’s been a source of tension for the family. Tell me what part of that isn’t serious, Faro?”
“Des, this time away is about confronting all the dirty little items that have managed to divide the family over the years.” Faro’s voice held a resolved tinge. “I, for one, believe that sharing those items could be the beginning of much-needed healing for the family.” He shrugged.
“No, that might not be the same mode of thought that others have.” He returned to filling his plate. “Maybe there are those of you who think there are some things best left untreated.”
“Nerves grow numb after a time, Faro.” Desree walked slowly with her coffee back to the table. “Aggravating them once that happens rarely does anything except to inflict pain. Or is that what you’re aiming for, boy?” She kept her back to him while posing the charge.
The veiled accusation removed any phony enhancements of politeness Faro had worked to keep in place. “You’re asking what I’m aiming for?” He set aside his plate, never taking his eyes from Des, whom he regarded with a mixed blend of precaution and slyness. “I’m aiming for quite a few things, Desree. Some to cause problems neither you nor I want.” He smiled. “Still not quite sure what I mean, huh? Maybe after a few more family get-togethers you’ll have a better idea, and that might make you think about how you can spare the family some of that drama.”
The room started to fill with other family members. Faro finished with his plate and called out to the others in a voice of welcome. Desree wondered if anyone noticed how insincere it sounded.
“Eat up, everybody! We got lots on tap for the day,” Faro said.
“Things gonna get weird like they did last night?” someone asked.
“Let’s hope not.” Faro eased a quick knowing look toward Desree.
* * *
“Is it me or are you hiding?” Laura asked when she entered Tielle’s office and leaned on the door.
“Why would you think that?” Tielle rolled her eyes when Laura sent a pointed look toward her platter of coffee, breakfast potatoes, bacon and fruit. She shrugged. “Thought I’d get more done in here.”
“Right.”
Tielle shook her head, smiled. “Did you hear about last night’s dinner?”
“Bits and pieces. Enough to know you were pretty pissed over it. Walked out before dessert—is that right?”
“Humph. Walked out before dinner.”
Laura whistled. “That bad, huh?”
“That bad.”
“How’d Grae take it?”
“We wound up having dinner together in the library.” Tielle broke a bacon strip in half.
Laura’s eyes widened. “What was that like?”
“We fell asleep on the sofa after dinner.”
“And?” Laura settled onto the arm of a chair. “Did it end there?” Her hope that it hadn’t was obvious.
“Didn’t have to, but he…” Tielle studied her breakfast with sudden distaste. “He pulled back.” Taking her mug, she left the sofa. “He wants to fix things, to make it up to me for driving us to divorce.”
Laura traced one of the pleats in her brick-colored skirt. “Does he plan to keep his distance until he’s done that?”
“It’s hard to sway him once he’s made up his mind. Looks like he thinks it’s best to stay away.” Tielle stood before the beverage cart, cup in hand.
“And where do you stand in all this?”
Kicking herself into movement, Tielle sugared her coffee and laced it with a heavy dose of cream. “I stand on the side of right,” she triumphantly announced and then gave a cold laugh. “At least that’s how Grae sees it. He won’t let me take responsibility for any of it.”
