Siblings Reunited
Mal knocked on his mother's door but there was no answer so he carefully swung the door open but found the room empty. He wondered where she could be and remembered that Corrine was home. He wondered if Corrine and Mother were getting into it and turned around to head to the East Wing where Corrine's, Joel's and his rooms had all been located. He opened the door and found it void of any new possessions. There were Corrine's old prom and graduation gowns, and pictures. He picked up the pictures and studied them carefully. There was one of Corrine and a man who had to be Christopher Foxworth, for he was so easily recognizable as a Foxworth. They both wore smiles and glowing expressions. Mal was immediately jealous of Christopher Foxworth. He wore an easy smile and looked happy in a way Mal could only imagine. It had to have come from having a stepfather that cared for him rather than a father like Malcolm. There was a family portrait. How young he had been then, he wondered how much he had changed. He had been so full of life, and he had never seen it coming. The reason he had to leave.
He remembered that Corrine had always loved the Swan Room and wondered if Father had finally given it to her. The Swan Room had been the suite of the first and second Mr. Garland Foxworth, his grandfather. He stopped short of knocking on the door when he heard voices.
"Really, Bart, I don't care what Mother says. It's Daddy I'm worried about."
"Corrine, really. When are you going to grow up? You are a grown woman, who has been married and widowed. You don't need their permission or money. I can't give you Foxworth Hall but I can provide for you amply. Didn't you learn anything from being married?"
"Bart, there's no need to attack me. Chris and I were happy. The last thing I wanted to do was come crawling back to Mother and Daddy."
"Then why did you?"
"Because I had no choice. There was no other way out, Bart. I was alone, and I had nothing. Chris and I lived beyond our means, my fault, not his. Bart, you know it's painful for me to talk about. I loved him. I gave up all this for him."
"Someday, I'll know all your secrets."
"I hope not," Corrine replied.
Mal took the opportunity to knock and open the door. Corrine's face lit up before she glanced at Bart and then it filled with guilt. "Chris?" she whispered. "How? They said you were dead."
"Cori, I'm not Chris," he said, calling her by the nickname he had given her a long time ago. He was the only one who ever called her Cori. He watched as the blood drained from her face.
"Mal, don't ever call me that again," she said in a choked voice.
"I've always called you Cori," he said confused. Even at sixteen she had never objected to that nickname why she should she just because she was now in her thirties.
"Bart, can you please excuse us. I'm sorry where are my manners. Bart, this is my brother, Malcolm Neal Foxworth, Jr., Mal, this is Bartholomew Scott Winslow, Daddy's attorney."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Malcolm," Bart replied.
"Please call me Mal. Malcolm is my father. Stick around for a game of tennis later."
"Sure, Mal," Bart said, before leaving.
As soon as he left Corrine turned to him, "You are supposed to be dead. What are you doing here?"
"This is my family home."
"Why now? Why after all these years? Have you seen Daddy already? If you need money I'll get it to you, just stay away."
"I've already seen, Father, Cori."
"Damn. Double Damn."
"Honestly, Cori. I heard about Father. Besides, I'm going through a divorce. I've give Adrianne the house and I needed a place to stay. I wanted to be close to my family."
"That's great. Just perfect."
"I thought you would be happy to see me, Cori. What's wrong?"
"I told you not to call me that," Corrine snapped. Mal couldn't explain how Corrine could be so beautiful and yet so ugly at the same time. Her features were lovely, but her face was hard, her eyes were narrowed and sharp. The beauty seemed misplaced on such a face that seemed to have forgotten how to smile. Where had all the youthful joy gone?
"Cori, do you know where Mother is?"
"She around."
"Father's having a dinner he wants you to attend."
"In your honor I'm sure," she said bitterly.
"Look, Cori. I'll talk to Father for you."
Suddenly Corrine's face blossomed into beauty like a witch into a queen. She smiled. "I'm sorry, Mal. I'm glad you are here, really I am. It nearly killed me when I saw that motorcycle explode."
Corrine watched him leave, and smirked. Why couldn't he have stayed dead? He was another heir, one that could take from her what she deserved. Daddy owed her that money. She was a Foxworth and it was her due, her right. Damn Cathy for turning the others against her. She would show her, soon they would be free. It wouldn't be long now. Daddy would most certainly leave a huge portion to Mal. Corrine had always known that despite his harshness with Mal, he cared for him, in some ways more than he cared for her. He trusted Mal, and he had never really trusted her.
Mal walked toward the gardens, pondering Corrine. When had she got so mean? She was almost exactly like Father. Almost an exact duplicate of Malcolm Foxworth, and it was scary. What had happened to his baby sister? This grand house did things to people, it changed them. Would it change him too? He beant down and pressed his face to the petals of a mum, remembering how he had joked with his Mother.
"You'll be Queen of the Mums, Mum," he had said with a laugh, he laughed out loud before the hairs on his neck stood up letting him know someone was there.
"What are you doing out here?" he heard a sharp voice behind him, "How did you get out here?"
