Legacy (Steel Brothers Saga #14) - Helen Hardt Page 0,21
drove her over the edge as it had my mother?
No.
No, no, no.
I would not go there.
Brad had told me she’d found solace in her greenhouse and other activities. She looked and acted fine.
No reason to worry.
I hoped, anyway.
Clomp. Clomp.
Footsteps that could only mean George Steel.
He marched into the kitchen, trailing bits of dirt from his boots. I felt sorry for Belinda. She’d have to clean up his mess. But I guessed that was what they paid her for.
He didn’t speak to his wife or son. He nodded at me. “Daphne.”
“Hi, Mr. Steel. Nice to see you again.”
“You too. What’s for dinner, Belinda?”
“Filet mignon wrapped in humanely raised bacon.” Belinda winked at me.
“Say what?” Mr. Steel said.
“Mr. Brad’s request. We’re also having twice-baked potatoes, broccoli with almonds, and fresh peaches from the orchard.”
He nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “Table’s not set.”
“We’re eating in the dining room.”
“Just for four of us?”
“Mr. Brad’s requ—”
“Yeah, yeah. I guess I should change.” He stood and left the kitchen, clomping down the hallway.
Mrs. Steel smiled at me. “Don’t mind him, Daphne. He’s just being himself.”
Was I supposed to laugh at that? I wasn’t sure.
“Daphne knows how he is, Mom,” Brad said. “I’ve warned her.”
“At least he remembered me,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to help, Mrs. Steel?”
“Honey, call me Mazie. Belinda has everything under control, don’t you?”
“Yes, Miss Mazie. Potatoes and veggies are already on the table. How do you like your steak, Miss Daphne?”
“Medium rare. And please just call me Daphne.”
“Try it rare,” Brad said. “A Steel filet is best served rare. It’ll melt in your mouth.”
“He’s right,” Mazie agreed. “Make them all rare, Belinda.”
“You got it,” Belinda said. “Go ahead in. These filets won’t take long on the grill, and I’ll bring them in. Salad’s already tossed and plated.”
“Thanks, Belinda,” Mazie said, “but I suppose we should wait for George.”
“We can at least sit down, Mom,” Brad said. “Come on.”
Brad took my hand and led me back toward the front door. Across from the formal living room sat the formal dining room. I hadn’t noticed it when I came into the house because it hid behind two ornate swinging doors.
My eyes went round.
First, it was huge. The dark wood table could easily seat a party of twenty or more. Did the Steels ever have that many people over for a formal dinner? Second, it was wallpapered in a white and gold paisley pattern. No wonder Mr. Steel didn’t want to eat in here. It really wasn’t him. It was Mazie, though.
“This is beautiful,” I said to her. “Did you decorate it?”
“I did,” she said and then chuckled. “George hates it.”
“If your dad hates it in here,” I said to Brad, “why did you insist we eat in here?”
“Because my mom likes it, and I knew you would too.” He grinned.
“Yeah, but if your dad—”
“Forget about him,” Mazie said. “We deserve to eat in a nice room every once in a while.” She walked to the head of the table. “This is George’s spot. Brad, hand me the place setting at my spot.”
Brad grabbed the plate and utensils and handed them to his mother. She set them down next to one of the settings on either side of George’s place.
“I don’t particularly want to scream down the table to be heard,” she said. “This is much nicer. Daphne, you sit here, between George and me, and Brad, take the place on your father’s other side.”
We sat at our designated places and waited for Mr. Steel. Belinda came in and poured us each a glass of ice water and a glass of red wine.
Then we waited.
And waited.
“For God’s sake, Mom,” Brad said. “What’s taking him so long?”
“You know your father. He’s on his own time schedule.”
“He’s never late for dinner,” Brad said.
“Except when we screw up his routine and insist that he eat in this room. He’s having a silent temper tantrum.”
“But we have a guest.”
“It’s okay, Brad,” I said. “I don’t mind waiting.”
Brad stood. “Well, I do. Everything’ll get cold.”
Belinda brought in the platter of steaks as Brad walked out of the room.
Mazie smiled at me. “Brad is nothing like his father, thank goodness. He’s a gem.”
I warmed. “I think so.”
“He’s my first and only, and he’s my life. I couldn’t be prouder of the man he’s become. You never love anything the way you love your child. You’ll understand what I mean when you have a child of your own someday.” She patted my hand.