Chapter 3

I rushed him to the hospital, where the doctor said the high blood pressure had been triggered by the emotional strain and he needed to stay for observation.

He called Pansy. She didn't pick up.

Reginald followed with a text, telling her about his condition.

For three days straight he kept his eyes on the door of his room, waiting for Pansy to come see him.

I let out a quiet sigh and decided to go to the Manning house myself.

When Pansy saw me, she did at least manage to ask, "Is Dad all right now?"

I nodded. "But he'll have to take medication for the rest of his life to keep his blood pressure down."

The words were barely out when Pansy let out a cold laugh. "See? My husband was right. He's faking it!"

I looked at her, not following, and she went on, "High blood pressure is exactly what old people fake."

"The second something doesn't go their way, they say their pressure's up, they're dizzy, so their kids don't dare say one more thing that might set them off!"

I closed my eyes for a moment, then slapped her across the face.

"What are you doing!" Bernice Manning came out and pulled Pansy behind her.

"If you've got something to say, say it. Why raise your hand to her!"

"You don't love Pansy, but we do!"

"Mom..." Pansy looked at her, moved, her voice catching.

Bernice patted the back of her hand to comfort her, then turned and looked at me with those narrow, sloping eyes.

"Oh? I thought you'd given up on this daughter of yours. What brings you knocking now?"

"It's only been a few days, and you can't keep the act up anymore?"

Bernice had torn off the mask completely. She wasn't even pretending now.

I knew that in the Mannings' minds, Pansy was the only daughter Reginald and I had, so sooner or later we'd have to bow our heads.

That was exactly the card they were playing.

But...

"Pansy, go back inside, quick. Don't stand out here and let her hit you!"

Bernice's voice cut through my thoughts.

Harold chimed in too.

"You go on back. Your mother's got all sorts of ideas. Either she's got your father faking illness, or she comes making a scene, trying to use filial duty to squeeze you."

He leaned close to Pansy and lowered his voice. "Don't see her. Once she realizes she can't corner you, she'll come around on her own."

Pansy nodded, obedient at once. "I'll do whatever you say."

"But when you two talk to my mom, be a little more polite about it, okay?"

And with that, without so much as a glance at me, she turned and went straight back to her room.

Once she was gone, Bernice really let loose.

"If you still want a daughter to look after you in your old age, you'd better hurry up and sign every bit of property in your names over to Pansy!"

"I raised my son with my own two hands, and he's this capable, this talented. Why should he marry into your family and take your name!"

"If you're so able, why didn't you give birth to a son yourself?"

"The Cliffords are cursed with no son to carry the line."

"If you want a son to care for you in your old age, you'd better treat our Harold well. Otherwise..."

She made no effort to keep her voice down. I'm sure Pansy could hear every word.

But she never came out, not once, and simply let Bernice curse me to my face, chin in the air.

I didn't argue back. When she finished, I turned and walked out.

Bernice shouted after me, "Hey, hey, you haven't even said whether you agree!"

When Reginald saw me come back, he craned his neck at once to look behind me.

When he saw there was no one there, the light went out of his eyes again.

I said nothing. I only played back the recording I'd made at the Manning house.

Reginald listened with red eyes, and after a long silence, he picked up his phone.

I never expected that the day after he made that call, Pansy, who hadn't shown her face all this time, came hurrying to the hospital in a panic.