Free House Of Secrets by Tracie Peterson Page B

just have to accept the price.”
    I hesitated a moment. I wasn’t at all sure how Dad’s going to prison would set us free. But right now I wanted nothing more than to let someone else take charge. Geena and Piper were grown women after all. It wasn’t my place to watch over them anymore. Frankly, like my therapist said, it was never my place. I had been playing guardian to them at the cost of my own childhood. A childhood that had already been robbed by a mother disconnected from reality.
    “I think we should get Dad up and make him talk about this,” Geena continued. “He plans to go get Judith in the morning, and we should have this out before she arrives.”
    “She shouldn’t come here at all,” Piper said.
    I silently agreed. “Maybe we should be the ones to leave.”
    Geena raised a brow. “And run away from the truth?”
    I considered all of the things that I knew that they didn’t. The truth they wanted so much to know was going to change their lives forever. I feared none of us was really prepared for this.
    “Is Dad downstairs?” Piper asked, heading for the door.
    “No, actually he set himself up in the guest cottage. He thought we might be more comfortable that way,” I replied. The two-bedroom cottage was plenty big for a family of four and would amply accommodate Dad and Judith.
    “Why don’t we just plan to talk to him in the morning?” I suggested. “We can meet over breakfast.”
    “I suppose that’ll work,” Geena said, glancing at her watch. “He’s always up early.”
    I nodded. “At least by five thirty. Why don’t we plan to get up around that time too. We can explain that we need to talk and try again to get to the bottom of this mess.”

    Five thirty in the morning was a time for complete lunatics, I decided. Maybe that’s why it seemed appropriate for our discussion. Geena had taken on breakfast preparations, while Piper said she’d go to the cottage and get Dad.
    “I have this under control,” Geena commented over her shoulder. “You might as well just take your cup of coffee and go sit down.”
    I yawned and grabbed my cup. Wandering out to the dining room, I found I couldn’t get Mark out of my mind. I’d thought about him off and on all night . . . and to be honest, I thought about him a lot of the time. I tried to tell myself it was just because of our work projects and the fact that he wanted me to take the position in New York City. But it was a poor excuse. I found myself doing the one thing I’d sworn never to do—call him for a purely personal reason.
    “Hey there, I was just thinking about you,” he answered after just one ring.
    I felt stumped as to what to say next. “I . . . ah . . . well. . . .” I stopped stammering and tried to think about what I wanted to say. Mark gave me the time. “I guess I just needed a friend.”
    “You’ve got it. What’s going on?”
    He made it sound so simple and casual—like we did this all the time. He couldn’t possibly realize the importance of this one small action. I left my coffee on the dining room table and walked out on the deck. The sun peeked out above the horizon, radiating beams against a nearly clear sky. It looked as though it would be a beautiful day.
    “Remember I told you,” I began, “that my life has a lot of baggage.”
    “Sure. Remember I told you that everybody’s life does?”
    “Right.” I recalled that only too well. “My father has remarried.” I hadn’t meant to just blurt it out, but of all the things on my mind, it seemed the safest.
    “That’s great news, I hope.”
    “Not exactly. See, we didn’t even know he was seeing someone.”
    “And you’re all jealous that a new woman has come into the picture?” he asked in a teasing manner.
    “No. That’s not it at all.” I sighed and took a seat at the deck table. “I can’t really explain.”
    “Can’t or won’t?”
    “Okay, I won’t explain. It’s too personal. Too deep and very painful.” I