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Syd, Sisters by Design, book 5

By Sharon Srock

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Chapter 1
“That’s ridiculous. How could you not know your husband was taking advantage of your daughter?”
Sydney Patterson cringed as the hot sting of shame crept up the back of her neck. She inched the cart closer to the register and sent a hesitant glance over her shoulder. Some of the weight lifted when she saw that the two women behind her were looking at one of the gossip rags displayed by the checkout lane, not at her.
She blew out a deep breath.
Would she ever be completely free? The self-condemnation for things she hadn’t thought possible, the bite of betrayal, the slow slide into a pit of despair without a handhold, the memory of people she loved looking at her as if she were an intentional idiot instead of an unwitting victim.
“Did you find everything?”
The chipper question interrupted the memories, and Syd found herself grateful. She smiled at the girl scanning her groceries. “I did, thanks.”
The girl pulled items from the belt and kept up a running monologue as she dragged them across the scanner. “These cookies are great, aren’t they? Havarti slices? I’ve never tried that type of cheese on a sandwich. Is it good? I need to try this new creamer. We’re sure selling a lot of it.”
It wasn’t necessary for Syd to respond. A friendly nod seemed good enough to keep the girl going.
“Oh, look at these nice steaks.” The girl winked. “Someone’s having a party.”
That drew a genuine smile. Syd was fixing dinner for Mason tonight. Sort of a welcome to Garfield celebration. Syd had met Mason at Jesse’s and Mac’s big wedding six months ago. That wasn’t a night she’d forget soon. A double wedding for two of her friends, a madman with a gun, and Mason.
Mason Saxton. His name made something tingle inside her, something that Syd would have sworn had died a horrible and tragic death years ago. The man was wickedly good looking with his lean face, cleft chin, salt-and-pepper hair, eyes a shade of blue that rivaled the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Oahu, and just a touch of scruff. He was also the father of Jesse’s groom, Garrett. He’d been in town for the wedding and surrounded by people he didn’t know. As part of Syd’s wedding weekend duties, she’d been assigned the task of keeping Mason occupied.
She rolled her eyes. That was not a chore assigned by chance. Her friends had obviously had romance on the brain.
But Mason-duty hadn’t been all bad. Not only was he easy to look at, his personality and charm matched his good looks. When he’d asked for permission to call her once he got home to San Antonio, her initial hesitation gave way to why not. After all, San Antonio, Texas, was a long way from Garfield, Oklahoma. She’d felt safe with that. And then, over the months of calls and emails, they’d grown comfortable with each other. They had a lot in common—both widowed, both dealing with empty nests, both fairly new believers.
When he’d told her he was moving to Garfield, the news had forced Syd to take a hard look at this new friendship. She’d kept her distance from men for eight years. But Sara and Logan were in their own home now, and Ginny, well, her younger daughter’s situation wasn’t likely to change any time soon. Syd could afford a friendship with a man, as long as she didn’t let it go any deeper than that.
“Is that everything you need today?”
Once again the checker’s friendly voice pulled Syd out of her musings. “I think so.”
The girl smiled, gave her a total, and waited for Syd to swipe her debit card. She held out a receipt. “You have a good evening.”
In her peripheral vision Syd watched the woman in line behind her put the gossip rag back in the rack and motion to it before pushing her cart forward. “Ludicrous, I tell you. Absolutely ludicrous. There’s no way that sort of behavior could happen right under your nose and you not see it.” Her friend put a hand over her heart and nodded in agreement.
Syd turned her back and walked away. I pray you never find out differently.
***
Mason scooted the couch into the corner of his newly rented home in Garfield late on Friday afternoon and studied it. “What do you think?”
The golden retriever at his side sank down and laid his head on his paws. Doleful chocolate brown eyes shifted from him to the sofa and back again.
“That bad, huh?” He grabbed one end, placed it on a diagonal angle, and stepped back.
The dog gave a soft chuff.
“Yeah, that’s just in the way.”
Mason looked around at the mess of furniture and boxes and concluded that everything from his oversized four bedroom home in San Antonio wasn’t going to fit into the modest three-bedroom ranch he now called home. A storage facility was his only hope. As luck would have it, those businesses were as plentiful in this part of the country as spots on a blue tick hound. He glanced at the furniture and boxes he needed to store. The majority of it had belonged to Elaine. The thought didn’t sting as much as it had in the past. Storing her stuff wasn’t the same as getting rid of it.
When the doorbell rang, the dog jumped to his feet. His nails clicked as he skittered across the tile of the entry. He scratched at the threshold, barking his intruder alert.
“Brody, no!”
The dog ignored the command. Typical.
Mason hurried to the door, tossing the space issue aside for now. It wasn’t as if he had to have the boxes unpacked, the books shelved, and the pictures hung before bedtime. That had been Elaine’s compulsion, not his. But, he glanced at the framed prints leaning against the wall. Maybe he would make time for his pictures before the day was over. Since he’d discovered a passion for photography, the shots he’d taken—of trees, mountains, valleys, sunrises, and sunsets—always brought him a sense of peace. Even before he’d fully recognized those beautiful things as God’s creation, he’d found peace in nature. He needed that in this new place.
“Brody, sit.”
The dog sat and the barking decreased to a whine.
Mason opened the door to find his son on the stoop. The aroma coming from the brown bag in his hand made Mason forget everything except the fact that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“How’s it going, Pops?” Garrett asked.
“Pitifully until now.” Mason reached for the bag. “I’m so hungry I could eat a bowl of Brody’s kibble.”
Garrett handed over the Sonic bag along with the large milkshake he held in the other hand. “You do know there’s a Sonic just two miles away. The grocery store is even closer. If you’re starving, you’ve no one to blame but yourself.” He stooped to take the dog’s ears in his hands and rocked Brody’s head from side to side. “On the job, I see.”
“Loud and proud and absolutely no help with these boxes.” Mason jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen and wound his way through the maze of boxes. “We’ve been trying to figure out where everything should go.”
“Your conclusions?”
“It’s hopeless.” Mason sat at the cluttered table, pulled out the burger and fries, and arranged them on the wrapper while Brody curled into a ball beneath his chair. The dog was no dummy. He knew there was a snack in his future if he stayed close. Mason nodded to a second chair. “You have time to sit?”
Garrett cleared a box from the chair and lowered his tall frame into it. “For a few. Jesse gets off work in an hour, and I promised to pick her up.”
“Something wrong with her car?”
“Her alternator quit on her yesterday. I’m her chauffer till the shop calls.”
Mason answered with a grunt, chased the burger with a healthy slurp of his shake, and swallowed. “And you love it.” He dropped a fry on the floor. Brody snapped it up as if he were going for a land speed record.
“I love that she understands I’m not a car guy. It’s a great thing to find a woman who accepts your limitations.”
Mason swiped a couple of fries through the catsup. “She’s a keeper.” He pushed away from the table. “Speaking of keepers. I’ll be right back.” He left the kitchen and returned with a heavy box. He set it on the floor next to Garrett’s feet. “This is for you guys.”
Garrett bent over the box, parted the flaps, and lifted out a layer of bubble wrap. A quiet gasp escaped him. “Mom’s china?”
“She’d want you two to have it.”
“But—”
“It’s been five years, and I’m still carting around your mother’s things.” He swallowed. “Time to take some baby steps toward my future.” His thoughts went to a certain blonde who was fixing dinner for him this evening. Maybe it was time for more than just baby steps.
“I don’t disagree, Dad.” Garrett unwrapped a cup and fingered the delicate blue design etched into the white edge. “Jesse and I will treasure this.” The sadness turned to a grin. “This mess would drive Mom loco.”
Mason glanced at the cluttered space. “I was just thinking the same thing. We only moved three times in our thirty-one years of marriage, but we never went to bed on the first night in a new place with boxes stacked in the corner. Your mother was a little maniac when it came to organization. And she didn’t care who she had bully to get it done.”
Both men were quiet for a moment as memories drifted through Mason’s mind.
“I miss her,” Garrett whispered. “I’d stay here all night and help you unpack if it meant seeing her smile one more time.”
Mason’s throat clogged with emotion. He clapped his son on the back. “I’m gonna stack all of your mother’s stuff out in the garage for now. There are a few more things I think she’d like you and your bride to have. I’ll make a pile for you and Jesse to go through when you get the chance.” He surveyed what he could see of the boxes, mentally judging the contents. “If I do that, I might actually be able to turn around in here by next week without tripping over a piece of furniture.”
Garrett stood, stooped to retrieve the box of china, and headed to the front door. “I need to head that way or face Jesse’s wrath at being left on the curb. I’m supposed to ask you if you want to come for dinner.”
“You tell that bride of yours I said thanks, but I have plans.”
Garrett met his dad’s gaze. “Those plans wouldn’t involve a pretty blonde named Syd, would they?”
“And if they did?”
His son studied him for a few seconds. “I had the best mom in the world, and no one could replace her. But I’m learning how much of a blessing it is to have someone special in your life. If she makes you happy, you have my complete blessing.”
***
Syd moved from dessert preparation to salad to checking the steaks on the grill. She came back in the house, fanning a dishtowel at a couple of flies determined to follow her in.
“Get out of here.”
The early September temperature hovered around eighty degrees, her main reason for choosing the grill over heating up the house. The microwaved potatoes, freshly chopped salad, and no-bake fruit trifle rounded out her menu and kept the temperature in the house pleasant for a nice long visit.
I’m entertaining a man in my house.
A year ago, the thought of it, much less the reality, would have been incomprehensible. But now that Sara had finished college, landed a decent job, and moved her and Logan into their own place, Syd had some freedom she hadn’t known she’d missed. Hadn’t even dreamed of needing until Mac’s and Jesse’s double wedding six months ago.
When Mason asked for her phone number, she’d assumed he was just being polite. The first call four nights later surprised her, and she’d found herself both flattered and flustered by the attention. They’d talked for an hour, rehashing the events of the wedding. Him, pleased and proud of his son, she, excited for her friends and the lives they’d just begun. Soon the calls became a nightly ritual, something she looked forward to at the end of a long day at the bank like she would a long soak in a hot tub with a riveting book.
He talked about his job and life in San Antonio. She learned about his marriage to Elaine and the pain of her loss five years earlier. In the spirit of sharing, she’d talked about her years with Anthony. Those golden years of being a stay-at-home mom, pampered and adored by a good man.
She’d picked through the events of her more recent history like a war refugee walking through an abandoned minefield, convincing herself that an unspoken truth wasn’t a lie, just a matter of privacy. She told Mason all about the business courses she’d taken in preparation for her first job, about the shock of Sara’s pregnancy at the age of fifteen, the world-changing love of becoming a grandmother, and the absolute joy Logan brought into her life. There was more to the story…of course there was. But none of her friends knew those parts. Mason didn’t need to know either.
The sound of a car in the driveway brought her gaze to the kitchen window. Mason climbed out of his black Buick, stooped to reach back inside, and emerged with a single red rose in a vase. The sight of that solitary flower did something funny to Syd’s insides. No one had brought her flowers since Anthony’s death.
Syd dried her hands on a kitchen towel, reached up to check her hair, and took the time to smooth the orange-and-yellow geometric print tunic she’d paired with brown jeans and sandals. She hadn’t seen Mason since the wedding, and maybe she was being foolish, but at some point over the last six months, his opinion of her had become important.
She hurried to the front door and had it open by the time Mason stepped onto the cement porch.
“You’re right on time.”
Mason stopped and studied her, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling when he smiled. “No one in their right mind is late for a steak dinner prepared by a beautiful woman.” He took two more steps and offered the rose. “For you.”
Syd reached for the flower, amazed to see her hand trembling. “It’s lovely, thank you.”
“Not as lovely as you.”
Mason’s words sent heat up the back of Syd’s neck. She bowed her head and gave herself two deep breaths, inhaling the blossom’s fragrance and hoping that the blush dissipated quickly.
Good grief. He’ll think I’m a ninny straight out of high school.
The timer on her cell phone sounded. Syd pulled it from her pocket and silenced the noise. “Steaks should be done. Come on in while I get them off the grill.”
Mason followed her to the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”
Syd set the vase on the counter and snagged a platter and a fork on her way out the back door. She nodded toward the two glasses sitting on the cabinet next to the fridge. “You can put ice in those glasses and pour the tea. I’ll be right back.”
When she came back in, she found that Mason had poured the tea and placed the rose in the center of the table.
“Look at you,” Syd said, pleased with his thoughtfulness.
He took the platter from her, placed it on the table, and pulled out a chair. “Allow me.”
Syd took her seat and grinned as he settled across from her. “You need to be careful.”
“About…?”
“Spoiling me so thoroughly on your first day in town. I might decide I like it.”
His grin answered hers. “Good.” He motioned to the meal. “This looks amazing. Would you like me to say a blessing?”
“Please.” Syd took the hand he offered and fought to ignore the little jolt of attraction the contact generated. There were a lot of things she could get used to where Mason Saxton was concerned.
When he finished, she cut a piece of her steak and looked up before putting it in her mouth. “How’s the unpacking going?”
Mason chuckled. “It’s miserable. This is the first time I’ve tried to set up housekeeping without Elaine. I’m learning that I’m not very good at it. I moved the couch four times today, and I still don’t like it.”
Syd chewed and wondered if offering to help him would be too much, too soon.
“I’m about to concede defeat. You wouldn’t care to give a helpless man a few pointers, would you?”
Well, that was a handy and timely request. Syd considered her weekend schedule. She had plans with Logan tomorrow. She’d seen her grandson every day for the first seven years of his life. She missed that now that he and Sara were living on their own. Sunday had its own challenges, but Monday…she could make that work. She must have hesitated too long.
“I’m sorry,” Mason said. “I’m asking too much of our friendship.”
“Don’t be silly. I was just thinking about my schedule. Would Monday evening work for you?”
“Monday is perfect. I have some things to drop off at the Salvation Army after I meet with my new boss. I should be home by six-thirty.”
“Your boss? I thought you had next week free to settle in.”
“He’s going out of town for a couple of weeks. He wanted a chance to show me around before he leaves. Do you like Chinese? I’ll get take out.”
“You don’t have to feed me.”
“I insist.”
“Then yes, I like Chinese.”
The rest of their dinner progressed in comfortable conversation. They’d grown accustomed to regular chats, but the face to face aspect added a new dimension of pleasure for Syd.
Mason scooped up the last bite of his dessert and leaned back in his chair. “Talk about spoiling. I haven’t had a meal like that in a very long time. Will you let me help you with the dishes?”
“Only if you insist,” Syd answered with a laugh. “I love to cook, but I hate the cleanup.”
Together they carried dishes into the kitchen. He rinsed them, and she loaded the dishwasher. Is there anything not to like about this man? As Syd reached for the dish towel to give the countertop a final swipe, her phone rang. A look at the screen sent her eyebrows arching under her bangs.
Rita Marlin? The woman hadn’t initiated a call to her in years. The last time had been when Ginny fell off a horse and broke her collar bone.
Ginny. The dinner she’d just enjoyed gave her a rebellious nudge. Syd swallowed. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” she told Mason before rushing to her bedroom. With a closed door at her back, she swiped the call open with trembling hands. “Rita, is something wrong with Ginny?”
“No, Ginny’s fine. I…you…”
Syd frowned while she waited for Anthony’s mother to continue. The woman sounded old…confused…not at all the vibrant, take-charge woman who’d finished ripping Syd’s family apart eight years ago.
A throat cleared on the other end of the line. “Ginny is fine. But Harold is not.”
“What’s wrong,” Syd asked.
“Harold had a heart attack last night.”
Anthony’s father. He’d always been the strong but silent type. He’d backed his wife’s bid for custody of Ginny, but he’d never spewed the venom in Syd’s direction that Rita had. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“He’ll be fine,” Rita ignored the offer of help. Syd had known she would. Rita had long considered Syd to be beneath her. “He’ll require a triple bypass and a lengthy recuperation. His doctor recommended a complete change of lifestyle. We’ve decided to move our retirement plans up. To do that…”
The woman paused, and Syd could picture her chewing her lip and pacing in front of the old fashioned landline house phone.
“Well…we can’t keep up with an active teenager. Your daughter needs to come home.”
Syd sucked in air, flooded with joy at the thought of having her youngest child home. Joy turned to dread at the thought of having her youngest daughter home. No one in her new life knew about Ginny.
Syd closed her eyes as shame flooded over her. What kind of a mother are you? A broken one, she admitted to herself as she took down flight information for the next day. She thanked her former mother-in-law, disconnected the call, and looked at the phone with tears in her eyes. Her baby was coming home.
A muffled cough filtered in from another part of the house.
Mason. Syd clutched the phone to her chest. What was she going to do about Mason? This evening had been a dream come true, one she’d anticipated repeating. That would be impossible now. One phone call had turned her new found joy to dust. She needed him out of the house, she needed to call Sara. She needed to decide what came next.
Tell him the truth.
Syd snorted at the random thought. Telling him, or anyone else, the unabridged truth about her past was out of the question. She squared her shoulders. Her daughter was coming home, and her barely begun friendship with Mason Saxton was ending tonight. She took a deep breath, schooled her face, and reached for the doorknob as the carefully constructed foundation of her life in Garfield cracked beneath her.

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