“Thank you,” she said and she meant it. She was so relieved, if she could trust herself and her crazy emotions, she would have given him a hug and a big, sloppy kiss. “Speaking of Sam, she’s already helped a great deal, she’s been a godsend. She got me a phone, a computer…” Julia sifted through her lists and quoted to him how much she figured she owed him. “I’ll need to pay you back right away. Can Sam help me arrange a transfer to your account?”
“Don’t be absurd,” he replied in a way that would make Einstein feel ridiculous for presenting his theory of relativity.
“You can’t buy me computers and –” Julia started.
“Even suggesting you’ll pay me is insulting,” Douglas cut in. “You gave up your entire life to be here, the least I can do is make it convenient and comfortable for you.”
That shut her mouth. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed. It was a lovely sentiment but she most certainly didn’t want to feel indebted to him.
He seemed not to notice her warring emotions and carried on. “As for a car, you’ll take one from the garage. I use the Jag, Mother the MG, Carter the Bentley. You can have one of the others and, if you don’t like them, just tell Sam what you want and she’ll arrange for it to be delivered.”
Julia’s mouth dropped open.
He’d have a car delivered?
That was too much, any thoughts of lovely sentiments went out the window and her relief was chased away as quickly as it came.
Before she could say a word, he continued. “And we won’t even discuss a monthly…” he hesitated then went on, “payment for living here.” He said the word “payment” like it tasted vile. “That idea is even more absurd than the other.”
“But I can’t –” Julia started again.
He threw his whisky back and put the glass down with a thud, effectively interrupting her.
“I can provide for my family, Julia,” he announced inflexibly and while she was trying to wrap her mind around the extraordinary fact that he thought she was family, he continued. “I’m uncertain why my sister trusted me with a task for which I have no skills or desire, but the one thing I can do is provide for you and the children. And on that point, there will be no discussion.”
He told her there will be no discussion as if that was the end of the discussion just because he said so.
She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let it go. It wasn’t in her nature or her upbringing. She’d been working since she was sixteen, getting a job at the local Dairy Queen so she could buy herself clothes and go out with her friends and not put a strain on her mother’s already seriously strained finances. She wasn’t about to let him “provide” for her.
She pushed it. “Douglas, I understand but –”
“The subject is closed,” he announced.
She stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh out loud or scream, wishing she could do both at the same time.
“I can’t –” she began again.
“How, may I ask, do I get you to do what you’re told?” he queried calmly but he didn’t look calm. His eyes were glittering and she was so used to Douglas’s complete indifference she couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or if he was immensely annoyed.
“I never do what I’m told,” Julia informed him, having decided that, for her part, she did not find this amusing at all.
“That does not bode well for the next thirteen years,” he declared, his tone showing he had chosen the opposite.
“I’m sorry, I can’t just live here and contribute nothing.”
“You’ll be taking care of the children.”
“One day, I’ll be working too. What then?” she asked.
“We’ll cope, people do these things every day,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Yes, but I’ll need more commitment from you with the children. Especially now, especially Lizzie. I think she’s looking to you –”
He stiffened, all amusement gone, and he interrupted her again, his words curt. “I have no idea how to heal her grief and further I have no intention of filling Gavin’s shoes.”
“But –” Julia began, stunned at his reaction and his words.
“Have we covered everything on your lists?” he asked politely and pointedly, this discussion, according to Douglas, was obviously closed.