as big a fool as she is,” Phillip said, and hung up on him without another word. He had expected his brother to share his opinion and his outrage. He hadn’t expected him to support her. And as John lay in bed at the Ritz in Paris, he was smiling, thinking about it. He liked Peter Williams. And he loved his mother, and if Peter was making her happy, what the hell. He turned over in bed and put an arm around Sarah. He wasn’t sure if he was going to tell her, out of respect for his mother, but he knew that if he did, she would agree with him. He thought Phillip was all wrong on this one, just as he was about a lot of things.
Chapter 13
Peter arrived in Bedford at eight-thirty instead of eight o’clock. The traffic had been heavy, it was Friday night, and people were heading out of the city for the weekend. Olivia had a platter of cold meats and a salad waiting for him with a chilled bottle of wine, and he put his arms around her and kissed her as soon as he walked through the door.
“What a day!” he said, looking worried and exhausted. He was still upset about Phillip walking in on them, and his verbal attack on his mother. “I’m so sorry, darling. Are you all right?”
“Actually, I’m fine,” she said, looking surprised as she poured him a glass of wine. They went out on her patio, looking over the well-manicured gardens, and sat down. It was a pretty house. It was a good size, but not enormous. She had moved there after Joe died, once the children were all grown and her mother had moved to the senior residence. It was an easy home for her, beautifully decorated with elegant antiques and paintings she and Joe had collected over the years. It suited her, and Peter was always comfortable there. His own house had the sad look now of a place where people had been unhappy and disconnected for a long time. He hated going home, but he always loved being here, with her. It was welcoming and warm, like her.
“I don’t know how Phillip turned into the morality police. I think he’s unhappy in his marriage. Amanda is such a social climber, and so cold. I don’t think she’d ever have married him if he didn’t have money and wasn’t going to run the business one day. She probably can’t wait for me to retire or drop dead. She wasn’t a lot of fun on the trip—she never is. And she’s icy cold with him. He doesn’t seem to mind.” She wanted more than that for him, but it was up to him. He had made his choice and seemed satisfied with it.
Peter didn’t like his own daughter-in-law either, but he felt the same way Olivia did. It was up to his son, and it if worked for him, there was nothing for Peter to say. He never interfered. Fortunately, he liked his son-in-law much better, and spent more time with them as a result. He loved his kids, but his children were on their own, grown and gone. The joy in his life was Olivia now, although they spent less time together than he would have liked. But they were both busy and still deeply involved in their work, and she still traveled a lot. He wondered if she’d ever slow down. Probably not. And she would have been unhappy if she did. He knew her well after all these years, and he loved her the way she was. He couldn’t remember a time now when he had loved Emily and had been happy with her, but he knew he had.
They had a quiet dinner in the kitchen, and talked about Phillip and other things. Peter was planning to spend the weekend, so their time together was unrushed and relaxed. He was leaving to play golf on Sunday morning, and Olivia was going to see Maribelle then, for the first time since the trip. Liz had called her mother after she saw her, and reported that her grandmother was happy and looked great. Olivia was always grateful that was the case. Her mother was one of the mainstays of her life, and Peter had become one in the last decade. He gave her good advice, privately and professionally, and he was intelligent and kind. Their interests meshed well, the time they shared was always tender