Heather fixed her smile as she opened the door. “Hello, Natalie.”
Natalie was a beautiful woman in her late thirties. Her blond hair was trimmed in a severely chic haircut that accentuated her sharp cheekbones and slightly tilted blue eyes. Her dress, unlike Heather’s shift, was expertly cut to reveal her toned and tanned body.
“Hello, Heather,” Natalie replied with equal politeness.
Heather led Natalie into the living room where she had iced sweet tea and her platter of fruit and cheese waiting. Natalie followed her in, her head turning from side to side as she perused the house. She stepped into the sunroom where Heather’s paintings and sketches covered the walls and were stacked beside the desk. Natalie walked past them all, pausing in front of the birds. They chirped questioningly as they always did when a person stood close.
“I see you still have your birds,” Natalie said with a tight smile.
“Of course. Where else would they be?” Heather indicated the sofa, determined not to let Natalie’s smarmy tone get under her skin. “Won’t you sit down?”
Natalie returned to the living room and lowered herself gracefully into one of the two side chairs, primly crossing her ankles.
Heather offered her the platter. “Cheese and fruit?”
“We have dinner reservations at six, don’t we?”
Heather colored faintly and set the platter back on the table. “Yes. At the Long Island Café. Very close by.”
“I’ll just have some tea.”
Heather felt she couldn’t do anything right as she hurried to pour. She handed Natalie a tall glass with a napkin.
“You’re looking well,” Natalie said. “You have great color.”
“I’ve been on the beach nearly every morning doing my research.”
Natalie took a sip of the tea. “How is your stamp project coming along?”
“Very well, thank you. I’m heading into the final stage. I’m almost finished painting the final four birds. Then I deliver them to the art director. She takes them to the committee, and I await their decision.”
“And then you’ll be famous, won’t you?”
“Hardly,” she said modestly. “No one ever knows the name of the person who created the stamp. But I will be proud, yes.” She hated how nervous and false her laugh sounded.
“Now, don’t be shy,” Natalie said patronizingly. “Surely this accomplishment will open doors for you?” she pressed. “Present opportunities for your career?”
Heather smiled briefly. “Well, yes. Maybe. . . .”
Natalie put her glass on a coaster on the table. Moved it an inch to the right. When she straightened, she placed her hands in her lap. “Are you still planning on returning to Charlotte at the end of the month?”
“Yes, of course.”
“But aren’t you happy here? You seem to be doing quite well living on your own. Your father mentions how proud of you he is all the time. We both are.” She gave her a quick smile.
“Well, thank you,” Heather replied, not quite sure what else to say. “Yes, I’ve been happy here. But my lease is up, so—”
“Would you like to extend it?” Natalie interrupted. “I’ve talked to your father, and he agreed that if you felt you needed—or wanted—more time, that could be arranged.” She paused.
“Okay,” Heather said slowly, unclear on where this was going but feeling like she was missing something. “How long do you two lovebirds want me out of your hair?”
Natalie didn’t smile. “Indefinitely.”
Heather knitted her brows. “What are you saying?”
Natalie straightened in her chair and looked at Heather with resolve.
“You’re my family now. I only want what’s best for you. I hope you know that,” she began in a manner that sounded as if she had rehearsed the lines. “But I also want the best for your father. My husband,” she added with import. “We’ve just begun our life together.” She shifted her weight, her first sign of discomfort. “And if you come back, well . . . it’ll change everything. You don’t want to spoil your father’s newfound happiness, now, do you?”
The question slammed into her. Heather felt her throat closing up and her heart began pounding while her brain screamed, Run away! “I, uh . . .” she stammered.
Natalie pushed on, taking advantage of Heather’s frozen state. “I’ve spent my life focused on my career. And I’m proud that I’ve built a successful clothing business. I didn’t expect to fall in love. But I did. I didn’t think I ever wanted to marry. But . . .” She looked away for a moment and her face softened. When she turned back, she leaned forward in her chair, pressing her palms together as she made her point. “Heather, I love your father. Very much.”
Heather snorted in an unladylike manner.
Natalie’s eyes narrowed and she leaned back in her chair. Her lips thinned. “I know you think I only married him for his money. Frankly, when he first asked me out, that might have been true. But I fell in love with David, whether you can believe that or not. And your father fell in love with me.” She spread out her palms as though to say, There it is.
Heather stared at her.
“Look, I know I have a lot to learn about being married. I may not be the kind of woman your mother was. The perfect homemaker,” she said with a hint of disdain. “I know she was a very special woman. And that you miss her.” She paused. “I’m not trying to take her place. To be honest, I never wanted children.” She shifted her weight and said pointedly, “We’re both grown women, only a few years apart. I’d love to have a relationship with you. But I didn’t sign up for a daughter. And I’m sure you didn’t sign up for a new mommy.”
Heather was shocked. Insulted. “Who do you think you are?”
“I’m your father’s wife.”
An uncomfortable impasse followed. Heather sat numbly wringing her hands, looking out the window. How could she respond to that? Wife trumped daughter every time.
“Heather,” Natalie said, drawing Heather’s attention back. “I didn’t come to argue. I’m not known for candy-coating my words,” she added with a hint of pride. “Here’s what I’ve come all this way to say. I know you’re a good girl. Smart, talented. And your father’s a good man. He loves you. He would never do anything to hurt you. I’m not the evil stepmother. But it’s not good for us as a couple if you come back. So I’m asking you. You can move back to Charlotte if you’d like. But don’t move back into our home.”
“If I came home . . . I wouldn’t bother you.” She hated the squeak in her voice. Her inner voice shouted, Why did you say that? It makes you sound weak. Like a little girl.
Natalie looked at her as she would a child. “You know you’re not the easiest person to live with.”
“What?” Heather said on a gasp.