Eye of the Storm (Hudson 3)

He drove off and I went inside and closed the door behind me. For a moment I stood in the entry way and thought.

There's a lesson, a lesson about money and how important it really is.

I was grateful Corbette had come along to teach it to me. It made me feel stronger and even more determined for the meeting that was about to take place.

Of course, they didn't have to ring a doorbell. I should have realized that. Victoria had her own set of keys to this house. I was putting away my dishes and glass from my lunch when I heard her voice reverberate through the hallway, ricocheting off the walls like a hard thrown tennis ball.

"I want to have each and every art piece evaluated and some of the accent pieces in this house are valuable antiques. Mother never paid attention to what things cost. She had no idea, no idea at all what she was giving away."

I stepped out and looked down the hallway at the three of them. My mother looked smartly dressed in a black leather jacket, a tailored shirt and an anklelength pleated skirt. Aunt Victoria wore her usual double-breasted business suit and Grant was in a dark blue, pin-striped suit.

Right from the moment I first met my real mother. I could see the resemblance between us. She was about my height, slim and small boned. We had the same color eves and practically the same shape jaw. Her forehead wasn't as wide and her nose was smaller, but perfectly straight with just a slight sharpness at the tip.

The dimple in her cheek flashed on and off at will it seemed or else reacted to some thought flashing through her mind. I always wondered what my real mother saw when she looked at me. Did she see the resemblances between me and my father and did that bring back some romantic memory? Or did she merely see a living, breathing problem, a reminder of her big mistake? I had long since given up the hope that she would ever look at me the way a mother should look at a daughter: eyes filled with pride and love.

Today, her eyes were dark with worry. Every time she turned them to me, they would practically shout out with the plea for me to make all the stress disappear. I could hear her prayer: let me return to my fantasy world: let me continue to float through my happy illusions, ignoring anything and everything unpleasant and burying worry and concerns in some bottom drawer to be forgotten. Please, those eyes begged from the very second she turned to me in the hallway, please. Rain.

Grant was as calm and as distinguished as ever. His suit looked as though it had just come off the rack in the department store. He was a handsome man with thick, light brown hair that resembled the color of dry hay when the sunlight played through it. I saw that during the days of Grandmother Hudson's funeral and after. Somehow he managed to keep a tan all year long. I suspected he went to one of those tanning salons. His dark complexion brought out the blue in his blue-green eyes, eves that always looked full of intelligence. When he gazed at me. I could feel his concentration, his search for every little hint of thought in my face. No wonder he was so successful in court and as a negotiator.

The moment I appeared. Victoria's stern, narrow and honey face flashed its fury at me. She pulled back her shoulders and stiffened her long neck. After what Jake had revealed. I couldn't help searching for some suggestion of him in her looks. Now that I was thinking about it. I did see similarities in their mouths and jaws and even in the shape of their eyes. However, she had nothing of his joviality, not even a hint of softness or compassion in her face. What brought laughter and smiles to Jake's lips brought only smirks and scowls to hers. I couldn't imagine her even considering the possibility of any relationship to him, much less being his daughter.

Jake was right: I could wound her deeply by telling her. She thought she was such a blue blood.

"We'll all go into the drawing room," she declared.

"I'll be right there." I said and deliberately returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. I wanted them to wait.

When I did enter the room. I could see my making her wait had raised Victoria's ire to explosive heights. Her normally pallid cheeks were crimson and her eyes looked like matches had been lit behind them.

"If you have the time for us, we'd like to have a sensible business conversation," she said.

My mother and Grant were sitting on the settee. Grant was sitting back with his legs crossed. My mother looked very uncomfortable, her shoulders turned in, her eyes down. She glanced up at me to see what I was going to do.

"Hello to all of you. too," I said and sat in the chair opposite Victoria.

She turned to Grant, who was obviously elected to conduct the meeting. I was sure they had practically rehearsed every word at lunch before arriving.

"You were expecting us, weren't you?" he began softly.

"No, not really. I learned about your coming only from Jake who informed me he was picking you up in Richmond. I had to guess as to why."

Grant turned to Victoria who sat back, her arms on the arms of the chair, looking like some queen about to pronounce sentence on one of her subjects. Her long, thin right finger moved up and down nervously.

"I thought you were calling her.," he said.

"What difference did it make? She wasn't going anywhere," she said. Then, softening, she added. "I knew Jake would tell her."

She lifted her eyes and looked at Grant, obviously concerned he would be displeased.

"Okay. I apologize for what this looks like then. Rain. We didn't mean to come bursting in on you.'

"You're not," I said.

"Good. Now that things have settled down somewhat, we all should stand back and take a clear, intelligent look at what's been done and what should be done, for the benefit of all concerned," he quickly added.

"It seems very late for tha

t," I said directing myself at my mother who continued to avoid my eyes.