Carolina Moon

business.”
    He walked out quickly. Upstairs, Cade knocked on his mother’s door. It occurred to him that there had often been closed doors in this house, barriers that required a polite request before they were removed. Manners forever took precedence here over intimacy.
    That would change. He could promise himself that. The doors of Beaux Reves would be open. His children wouldn’t have to wait like company for an invitation to enter.
    “Come in.” Margaret continued to pack. She’d seen Cade drive up with that woman and had been expecting him to knock. She assumed he would ask her to change her mind about leaving, would attempt to reach a compromise. He was a deal maker, she mused, as she laid tissue paper between precisely folded blouses, as his father had been.
    It would give her enormous satisfaction to listen to his requests and offers. And refuse them all.
    “I’m sorry to disturb you.” The prologue came automatically. He’d said the same thing countless times when admitted to her rooms. “And I’m sorry you and I find ourselves at odds.”
    She didn’t bother to look over. “I’ve made arrangements to have my luggage picked up this afternoon. I will, naturally, expect the rest of my belongings to be shipped to me. I have a partial list of what is mine. It will take a bit more time to complete. I have acquired a number of possessions in my years in this house.”
    “Of course. Have you decided where you’ll be staying?”
    The smooth tone of the question had her hands fumbling, her gaze darting toward him. “I’ve made no permanent arrangements. Such things require careful consideration.”
    “Yes. I thought you might be more comfortable in a house of your own, and somewhere nearby, as you have ties to the community. We own the property at the corner of Magnolia and Main. It’s an attractive brick house, two stories, with a well-established yard and garden. It’s tenanted at the moment, but the lease runs out in just over two months. If you’re interested, I’ll give the tenants notice.”
    Staggered, she stared at him. “How easily you put me out.”
    “I’m not putting you out. The choice is yours. You’re welcome to stay here. It’s your home, and can continue to be. But it will also be Tory’s home.”
    “You’ll see what she is eventually, but she’ll have ruined you by then. Her mother was trash. Her father is a murderer. And she herself is nothing but an opportunist, a calculating sneak who never knew her place.”
    “Her place is here with me. If you can’t accept that, and her, then you’ll have to make your place elsewhere.”
    Sometimes, for some people, the answer was yes or no. It occurred to him that this time it applied to him as much as his mother.
    “The house on Magnolia is yours if you want it. If, however, you prefer to go elsewhere, Beaux Reves will acquire the property of your choice.”
    “Out of guilt?”
    “No, Mama. I have no guilt for taking my happiness or loving a woman I also admire and respect.”
    “Respect?” Margaret spat out. “You can speak of respect?”
    “Yes. I’ve never known anyone I respect more. So guilt plays no part here. But I will see to it you have a comfortable home.”
    “I need nothing from you. I have money of my own.”
    “I know that. Take whatever time you need to decide. Whatever that decision is, I hope you’ll be happy with it. Or at least content. I wish…” He closed his eyes a moment, weary from maintaining the facade of manners. “I wish there was more between us than this. I wish I knew why there can’t be. We disappoint each other, Mama. I’m sorry for that.”
    She had to press her lips together to stop their trembling. “When I leave this house, you’ll be dead to me.”
    Grief swam into his eyes, swirled there, then cleared away. “Yes, I know.”
    He stepped back, then quietly shut the door between them.
    Alone, Margaret sank onto the bed and listened to the silence.
    Cade gathered what paperwork he thought he’d need over the next day or two, and listened to his phone messages while he loaded his briefcase. He needed to check in with Piney, return calls from the factory, and run by a couple of the rental units. There was a board meeting the next day, but that could be rescheduled.
    His quarterly meeting with his bookkeeper couldn’t. He’d just have to find a safe place to plant Tory for a few hours.
    He glanced at his watch, picked up the phone. Faith answered, her voice slurred