One Step Closer(23)

The food was good, but something inside Caleb didn’t want to hear anything good about his father. Especially, when it came to Wren. He stopped eating and put his fork down on the plate with a clang.

“She was responsible for her career, not him. He kept me away from—” Caleb stopped at the shocked look on Jonesy’s weathered face. She had to be in her mid-seventies by now, and he felt regret at his tone. “I’m sorry.”

The old woman reached wrinkled hands across the table, both of them taking one of Caleb’s. He felt claustrophobic and wanted to pull his hand away but resisted out of respect.

“I know you don’t want to see any good in your father, dear, but it was there. He was a man filled with pain, Caleb. When he lost your mother, it broke him.”

Caleb’s throat tightened against his will and it was all he could do not to scream at Jonesy not to plead Edison’s case, and that it was a lost cause, though if he were honest, as a grown man, he could understand that. His piercing blue eyes met older ones. “I lost her, too. I was twelve years old, and I lost my father, even before she died. We both lost him, and she didn’t deserve that, Jonesy.” Caleb’s throat tightened and tears blurred his vision. He didn’t like showing weakness. He blinked twice and cleared his throat. “Even if I could forgive him for abandoning me, I can’t when it comes to Mom.”

Jonesy patted Caleb’s hand, and he pulled it away as gently as he could manage.

“I know, honey. It was wrong of Edison to do things the way he did, and I don’t agree with most of it. He did realize after a time, Caleb, and he tried to make amends but by then, you were on a rampage. You didn’t make it easy on your father. I know he had regrets and he tried to make up for it in the only way he knew how.”

“How was that? By making a shit ton of money and forgetting I existed? By bringing that plastic whore into my mother’s house?” Caleb’s anger returned and he resented anyone trying to make his father look like a white knight; about anything.

Jonesy sighed and shook her head sadly, sitting back in her chair. “No. By making sure you got a damn good education and by building up the company for you like your mother would have wanted. Caleb, you’re so bitter. Edison married Veronica because he thought it would be best for you to have a mother, not because he loved her. He couldn’t love anyone after Celine.”

“I thought you knew everything, Jonesy! I never wanted to leave Denver; Dad blackmailed me to go to MIT. He made me leave Wren in the clutches of that psychotic, evil witch, and I couldn’t even tell her why. Do you know how hard that was?”

“Caleb, Wren was taken care of. Your father made sure she had everything she needed and she was safe. He even got her into Juilliard.”

Caleb stood and picked up the plate with the lasagna, shoved the water bottle under his arm and reached for the salad plate.

Anger festered in Caleb’s chest and heat began to race like fire under his skin. “I love you, Jonesy. I owe you a lot for always taking care of me after mom died, but he did not get her into Juilliard. Wren earned her place among those students. He made a couple of calls and arranged her audition, and then paid her tuition. He used his money, because that’s all he knew how to do. He wasn’t some saving grace, Jonesy. He ruined everything I wanted.” With Wren, his mind screamed.

Maybe, Caleb didn’t know about the suite of rooms that Edison had remodeled for Wren, or how Edison sent Veronica off on duties for the company over half the time to keep her away from Wren, Jonesy thought. But given how close Caleb and Wren had been… how was that possible?

Jonesy could see the resentment seething inside Caleb and because he’d just lost his father, she decided not to press. She could only hope that eventually Caleb would be able to understand his father’s motivation, and to forgive him for his misguided methods.

Caleb began to walk from the room, intent on taking the plates with him downstairs to watch a movie and maybe get his mind off the memories. He felt like his chest was ready to explode, and he didn’t want to talk about his father or Wren any further.

“Thanks for the food,” he muttered over his shoulder.

“Caleb, about the service…” Jonesy stopped him. “There is a place for your father inside the mausoleum, and the service has been arranged for Monday. The funeral home will take care of notifying the media with the obituary Jonathan wrote. Unless, of course, you’d like to write one?”

Caleb turned, still laden with plates. “No. No, I don’t. I’m sure what Jonathan wrote is fine.”

“Alright,” Jonesy nodded her silver head. “Jonathan mentioned the will is being read early Monday evening. Is there anyone I need to notify to be in attendance? What about Wren?”

“She’s on her way already.”

The old woman’s eyes lit up. “Oh!” She smiled softly. “It will be so nice to see her and to have the two of you back together under one roof.”

“Yes. I’ve arranged for a car to pick her up,” Caleb rambled, unsure why admitting he’d taken care of Wren’s ride felt like a bigger confession. “Tomorrow.”

With that he left, using the stairs off the kitchen to retreat back downstairs, then choosing one of the black leather recliners directly in the middle of the surround sound setup, and in front of the big projection television. There were trays hidden inside some of the arms of the chairs, and Caleb juggled the plates into one hand, so his other was free to pull one out. He found the remote, flipped on the Direct TV and wolfed down his meal, setting the empty plates on the seat of the recliner sitting next to his. Caleb made a mental note to take them up to the kitchen later.