“What do we need to talk about?” I said in a clipped voice. “I meant what I said, I’m busy.”
“I know you, Serena. We need to talk about what you saw.”
I looked away, and Daddy took a seat in the chair across from me. His face was drawn, and he even leaned forward, picked up my coffee cup, and took a sip.
He raised a brow. “Is this…Kopi Luwak?”
“Yes.” I didn’t even blink. “You can get your own cup in the kitchen.”
“This is fine with me,” he said.
I watched him finish my coffee before he set the cup down, and sighed.
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“Then what was it?”
This time, Daddy rubbed his face, scratching his beard, and his brown eyes met mine. “I wanted to talk to her about your mother. About maybe…helping. Maybe rekindling their friendship again.”
“Helping? You needed to talk to her three hours away for that?”
He let out a long breath. “Your mama’s been off lately. More than usual.”
“What do you mean off?” My stomach tightened.
“She’s having some health issues,” he said slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor like he was searching for the right way to lie gently. “She won’t admit it, but she’s tired, Serena. Bone-tired.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know how long she’s gonna last running all of this. It’s like…” He paused, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s like she’s trying to deny reality. We’re getting older, not younger, sweetie. Time is wearing all of us down.”
“She should see someone?—”
“She won’t. You know your mother. Pride before anything. But between the press, the protestors, losing Ben, everything with Laurene and Gigi…” His eyes met mine. “And you—she’s stretched thin.”
I swallowed, the weight of it hitting deeper than I wanted to admit.
“She’s not invincible, Serena. None of us are.”
My jaw tightened.
“So now it’s my fault?”
He shook his head. “Never. But when I look at you, I see more of your mama in you than I’d like.”
I ran a hand down Doughboy’s back, needing something to do with my hands. “That supposed to be a compliment?”
Daddy gave a small smile. “It’s supposed to mean I worry. You inherited her ambition, her grit, but you also inherited that tendency to carry everything like the world would fall apart if you dropped even one thing. I thought you would grow out of it when you were a kid… You never did, you’ve always been high strung.”
I stayed quiet, still petting the cat.
“But lately,” he added, “I’ve seen you smile more. You’ve been spending time with your sisters again. You’re not breathing and bleeding this business twenty-four seven like you used to. I thought we’d never see the day.”
I blinked, unsure what to say.
“I’m proud of you, Rena. I know it probably doesn’t sound like it coming from me, but I am.”
I frowned. “Now you’re proud of me? After almost thirty years, you’re proud? That’s all I ever wanted from you and Mama, but now I’m with Miles and you’re proud?”
