“That sounds like a good plan.”
Sarah collapsed at the kitchen table. “I don’t know what to do!” she exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.
Brad sat down beside her. “You do what Mike tells you to do. He’s older and wiser. He won’t steer you wrong.”
“You have a lot of confidence in him, don’t you?”
“He’s married to my mother. We wouldn’t have let her marry him if he wasn’t a good guy.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “You think you’re always in control, don’t you?”
“Most times. My family has lived here for over a hundred years, leaving me with a great tradition and enough money to make it.”
She got up from the table and turned away from him.
“Yes, well, that’s not our family.”
“Why did your mother marry the man?” Brad asked, still sitting at the table.
“Alice was widowed and didn’t have any job skills…and she had a teenage daughter—me.”
“Did he drink then?”
“Yes, but he kept it under control. At least for a year or two. Then he’d just stop off for one beer that turned into four or five. He’d drag home about eight or nine and roar for his dinner.”
“That sounds sad. I guess you didn’t have much of a life then.”
“No. I never knew if he’d come home drunk or not come home at all. It was embarrassing.”
“When you moved back home, how old were the kids?”
“Anna was six and Davy was two.” She’d had no choice, really, but to leave the city and move back in. Her own life wouldn’t have been worth living if she knew her siblings were in danger.
Brad stood and moved to Sarah’s side. “Don’t worry, Sarah. Nick and Abby are going to take good care of your little family.”
“They’d better!”
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