Chapter Seventeen: Sugar-Free, Low-Fat Recipes

She blamed their lateness on her forty-five minute call to Annabeth. But the truth was, Tracy was stalling, hoping against hope that Alan and Monica would be gone by the time they arrived, that nobody would be there except those promised her—her mother, her son, and her grand-daughter.

Breakfast turned out to be a rollicking affair, a bawdy brunch with all of them telling stories on the others, with Simon being questioned and screened by both Ned and her mother, who assumed there was something going on between them. Tracy had stayed well out of that discussion, still flustered as she was from awakening in his arms. She didn't fully remember going to his room in the middle of the night, and although she knew nothing physical had happened between them, it definitely felt awkward.

It felt good, too, but mostly awkward.

Tracy could still taste the echo of strawberry crepes on her tongue when Lila put down her napkin with an air of regal finality. "Ned, Brooke Lynn. Please entertain our guest. Tracy, dear, I need to speak with you privately in my study." The old woman motioned to Alice to clear the brunch dishes, and rolled away from the table and out of the room without another word.

With a helpless look at Simon and Ned, Tracy shrugged and followed her mother into her study. It was a warm place, so very much suited to Lila. Tracy sat where she was told, on an overstuffed couch that had a wonderful view through the window to where the rose garden would bloom in the spring. It never occurred to her to question her mother, to push. Lila wheeled around the room expertly in her chair, going to the desk and pulling out some papers.

"Here is a list I drew up for you, dear," she said, placing the papers in an envelope and putting them on the desk. "Don't forget them. I've kept my paperwork on Freedom Energies in the drawer with my delicates, where I knew your father wouldn't find them." She smiled wickedly at her daughter. "Women things make him squeamish, you know. Unless they're in use." She laughed when Tracy blanched at the mere thought, and continued. "Now, I've got my broker set to purchase a few shares when the company goes public, but I thought it best to make sure your father wasn't up to any mischief. As far as I know, he doesn't know Freedom Energies from a hole in the wall, and I'd like to keep it that way until you're safely passed the offering."

Tracy nodded, stunned. Maybe she had been away too long. It hadn't occurred to her to think this way, or maybe she just didn't want to. But it made sense, especially where Edward was concerned.

"I'm worried that now that you've made contact, it will occur to him to wonder what you're up to. It wouldn't be hard for him to find you—all I needed was a private investigator." Lila shook her head, a sour look on her pretty face. "I hate to think that this is necessary, but here is a list of all the company names your father uses when he's out to—" She faltered a moment, then continued with determination. "Should he try anything against your company, he would use one of these DBAs," she said firmly. "Be on the look-out for anyone seeming too interested in your stock, especially in you."

Tracy swallowed, trying to digest what her mother had said. It was perfectly possible that Edward could destroy her company with a single phone call. Everything she'd worked for, everyone she was responsible for—all gone because of one vindictive old man. "I promise you, Mother. I won't let Daddy hurt my company." Her voice was hard, sure. She knew she sounded like a female version of Edward, but she didn't care. There was no way she was going to let her own family issues destroy something so important to so many people. "I swear to you."

Lila nodded solemnly, then smiled, lightening the mood with her breezy tone. "Oh, dear. Now I don't want to spoil our visit. I actually have something else to give you, my darling. Something I've held on to for quite some time."

"Mother, you don't have to give me anything," Tracy laughed. When she realized that this was probably the first time that particular statement had ever come out of her lips, she laughed even more. "I didn't come home for presents."

"Oh, I think you'll like this one, my love." Lila rolled around the desk, across the room to where an old shoe box was sitting on the shelf. She picked it up, put it in her lap, and rolled over to Tracy's side. "Here you go, Tracy."

Tracy accepted the shoe box with a confused expression. The top and sides of the box were clearly marked in Lila's bold, unmistakable print. "Sugar-Free, Low-Fat Recipes?"

"Open it, dear…."

She took the lid off the box. There, neatly bundled and tied off with ribbon, were dozens of envelopes. She turned to her mother, curiosity burning. "I don't get it."

"I labeled the box 'sugar-free, low-fat recipes' because I knew nobody would ever open it," Lila laughed. "Look at one," she prompted.

Tracy pulled out the first bundle of envelopes. They were addressed, again in Lila's neat, European handwriting, to her. Tracy Walker. Seattle, Washington. In the bottom left hand corner, there was a date.

3/1981.

"I've written you one letter, every month, since you've been in Seattle. Nothing special, just gossip. Just to let you know what was going on in the family." She took Tracy's trembling hand in her own, holding it with more strength than seemed possible from her thin, withered fingers. "I knew someday you'd come home. I knew I couldn't send them to you while you were still estranged, it would have been cruel." She stroked Tracy's hair out of her eyes, looked into her face with all the love that went with those letters. "I'm so happy you're home, Tracy," she whispered.

"Me, too, Mother." Tracy couldn't say any more. She stared at the letters, stared at this tiny history her mother had created for her. It was acceptance she held in her hands, faith and fierce loyalty and undeniable affirmation of the fact that, no matter what happened, at least one person in her family had never stopped loving her. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I love you, sweetheart."

And then she was wrapped in her mother's arms again. She smiled at the scent of her mother's perfume. It hadn't changed in the years she'd been gone, and Tracy reveled in the familiarity. "I love you, too, Mommy."

They pulled apart. Even Lila succumbed sometimes to the Quartermaine distance, and she seemed a little overwhelmed by the emotion in the room. Her voice was brisk, that beautiful English crispness Tracy always associated with love and safety and protection. "Now, are you certain I cannot talk you and Simon out of leaving tonight?"

"I'm sorry, Mother. This trip was unscheduled as it was, and we have to get back to Seattle." She didn't add that there was really nothing more she could do. Edward had rejected her, Ned and Brooke had already agreed to come up for the IPO in a month. Alan and Monica, well, they were Alan and Monica, and nothing she did would change that. So aside from her own selfish need to be with her family, Tracy could find no real reason to stay, and many reasons to return to her own life and take care of business.

"Will you at least promise to come for a visit at Easter?" She clapped her hands together when Tracy nodded, albeit reluctantly. "And please," Lila added conspiratorially. "Please don't hesitate to bring your young man with you."

"He's not my 'young man,' Mother," Tracy protested, feeling her blush growing. He wasn't, really. But the thought of his bare chest against her cheek upon waking this morning had her blushing again. "He's just a friend."

"Well, invite your friend then. I like him. I like the way he treats you." She sighed, a thoughtful expression in her eyes as she watched her daughter. "I like that you've found a man who is good to you, dear, even if he is 'only a friend.' You deserve that. You deserve to be happy."

Tracy smiled. She had her letters. She had her mother. Soon, she would have her son and her granddaughter back. She had her company, and she had two of the most amazing friends anyone ever asked for. It occurred to her, in a heartbeat, sitting there in her mother's sitting room, that she was happy. Deliriously happy. Peaceful, content, loved…

And happy.

"I love you, Mother," she whispered, pulling Lila into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for everything."

"Don't be afraid of him, Tracy," Lila whispered into her hair. "Go to him before you leave. Defy him. Don't let him get the better of you before you go, no matter how much you want to." She pulled away, her face tight and serious. "Face your father one more time before you leave. Walk out. Don't crawl."

Tracy nodded, her stomach clenching. Mother was right. She couldn't leave it like it was with Daddy.

But she didn't want to do what she knew she had to do. She didn't want to risk him destroying everything that brought her such joy. Of course, if he thought she was weak, that she couldn't defend herself against him, he would stop at nothing to torture her.

She was back on his radar again, heaven help her.

And Tracy knew, more than anything in the world, that there was only one person who could protect her from Edward Quartermaine now.

Herself.

Coming in Chapter Eighteen: Parting Words