It's Better This Way(15)

“Not doing it,” Hillary said, and shook her head for emphasis.

“You say Dad misses us?” Marie scoffed. “Mom, I think it’s best if we drop the subject. Dad made his choice and so have Hillary and I. As far as we’re concerned, he can live with the consequences.”

    Julia slowly shook her head, as if disappointed by their unwillingness to bend. “Oh girls, you’re as stubborn as your father.”

“At least we come by it honestly,” Hillary said, as if making a joke.

In a blatant effort to change the subject, her cousin walked over to where Julia had arranged the appetizers. “I have always loved these dumplings.”

“Okay,” Julia said, sighing loudly. “Message received. I won’t bring up your father again, although someone needs to let him know the news.”

Hillary paused from loading a second dumpling onto her small plate. “You can tell him if you want. You appear to be the only one in this family willing to talk to him.”

Marie shrugged. “Yeah, Mom, you tell him.”

“And while you’re at it,” Hillary added, “you can remind him that he isn’t invited to the wedding if he plans on bringing Laura.”

“Hillary!” Julia protested. “She’s his wife!”

“I’m serious, Mom. I have no intention of letting her ruin my special day. As far as I’m concerned, when he walked out that door, he made his choice. I no longer consider him my father.”

Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked, but Carrie was curious. “Who will walk you down the aisle?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. Maybe I’ll just walk myself. Daddy gave up the privilege a long time ago.”

    Julia’s face fell. “You need to seriously think about this, Hillary. You might regret this decision down the road.”

“No, I won’t. I’m the bride-to-be, and if Dad wants to be part of my wedding, I’m willing to let him, with one small stipulation. I don’t want Laura there. If he can agree to that, then he, and he alone, will receive an invitation.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Carrie murmured, regretting asking the question.

“It’s better to get this out now,” Hillary said, “so there’s no misunderstanding.”

“And if your father refuses?” Julia asked.

“Then so be it. What was it that Gramps always said?”

Carrie and the two cousins recited it together: “It’s better this way.”



* * *



—

After her cousins left, Carrie headed back to her desk to complete the list she’d been working on earlier. When a meal delivery came for Eric Hudson, Carrie saw this as the perfect opportunity to meet the elusive resident. Seeing that the meal had already been paid for, she decided to deliver it herself.

Standing in the hallway outside his door, she waited for him to answer.

“Give me a minute,” he shouted from the other side.

“No problem,” she said. If he didn’t care that his dinner was growing cold, then she wouldn’t worry about it, either.

The door opened a couple minutes later. He grabbed the sack from her hands and was ready to close the door when she stopped him.

“Eric?” she said, making it more of a question than a statement. She hadn’t expected him to be so young. He had to be around her age, perhaps a year or two older. She couldn’t help but notice he was easy on the eyes. His hair was badly in need of a cut and it didn’t look like he’d taken the time to comb it. He was dressed in sloppy jeans and a T-shirt and had bare feet.

    He glanced up as if noticing her for the first time in her pencil skirt and silk blouse. His eyes widened, as if he was as surprised as she was. “Yes. I’m Eric. Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Carrie, the new concierge. I’m here to do whatever I can to make life easier for you. If you need me to collect packages, or book a reservation, or if anything needs repairs, don’t hesitate to ask.” She bit her lip to keep from suggesting an appointment with the barber.

His gaze briefly held hers. A beep came from somewhere inside his condo. He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “Nice to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my computer.”

“Of course. Have a good evening.”

“You, too,” he said, as he swiftly closed the door.

Well, that was interesting, Carrie mused. Even though their interaction had been brief, she was intrigued. From what she’d observed and what she’d heard, Eric was something of a recluse. As far as she could tell, he collected his mail in the wee hours of the morning when no one else was about. He ordered take-out meals, and the only visitor who’d signed in to see him appeared to be a businessman. The guy had scribbled his name down and the only part legible enough to read was Michael. One visitor, and that was it. Everything else—groceries, laundry, meals—was all delivered.

When she’d gone to meet him, she’d expected to find a senior citizen with a long white beard, not a man in his late twenties or early thirties. There was more to him than met the eye, and Carrie found herself curious about what had led Eric Hudson to hide away in his condo. She’d do a little digging and find out what she could.