Ryan raised an eyebrow. "And you agreed so easily?"
His father glanced down, and when Ryan returned his gaze, he took in the graying hair and stooped shoulders he hadn't noticed before. "I lost a daughter, Ryan. Just because I never show the pain doesn't mean I don't— and didn't— feel it."
Ryan's heartbeat tripled as he heard the words nobody in this house had ever expressed while he was growing up. He couldn't believe how emotional they made him feel now.
His palms sweated and his relief nearly overwhelmed him. "I'm so glad to hear you say that." He forced the words from his tight throat.
His father's gaze never broke from Ryan's. "It's a start, son. It's a start."
They were a long way from normal, but thanks to a young girl named Sam, they were taking small steps.
"So this do-it-yourself attitude is a part of that?" Ryan swept his arm around the room, encompassing the lack of servants and more casual atmosphere. His father, Ryan realized, wasn't wearing a suit, but a collared shirt with the top two buttons opened.
The other man nodded. "Apparently, we need to lose our snobbery. Your mother's words." A slight smile touched Mark Baldwin's lips.
Ryan stopped short of calling it a grin. "And you listened to her? Will wonders never cease." As much as Ryan appreciated the changes in his family home, he couldn't hide his sarcasm.
"Give us a chance," his father said. "You might be surprised." He extended the drink he'd poured and Ryan accepted the peace offering.
"To…change," Ryan said in return, coming up with the most apropos word he could find under the circumstances.
"To change," his father echoed.
"Is Uncle Russ coming for dinner?" Ryan asked.
His mother shook her head. "He had to work late. He said to send his regrets."
Ryan nodded, relieved he wouldn't have to face him just yet. He wanted time with his father to figure out what Mark Baldwin knew and fill him in on what he didn't. He hoped that together they'd come up with a way to handle the past— and minimize any future damage to the company or to the family. Soon though he'd have to pay his uncle a visit and begin to tie up those loose ends.
"I was sorry to hear Samantha and Zoe went home," his mother said, interrupting his thoughts.
Her words took him by surprise. "Does that apply to both Zoe and Sam? Or is the truth that you were glad to see Zoe go?"
His mother blinked, obviously surprised. "Of course I mean them both."
Ryan studied her, trying to assess her sincerity.
"That Zoe has character." Grandma Edna walked slowly into the room using her cane. "Reminds me of myself in my youth."
"Then why did you make her feel like a pariah?" Ryan asked.
His grandmother laughed. "Because the only way to be accepted is to earn your place."
More old-fashioned wisdom from the Baldwin family, Ryan thought. The more things changed, the more some things stayed the same.
Grandma Edna smacked her cane against the floor for emphasis. "We couldn't make it too easy on the girl, now could we?"
"You didn't make it easy on my sister and she's gone for good. Were you trying to repeat history?"
The older woman, whom Ryan had never known well, snorted in reply. "Zoe's made of stronger stuff. I knew it the moment she stood up to me over those napkins at dinner. I, for one, respect her."
"Well it would have been nice if you'd told her so."
"She didn't ask."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "You could have shown her, then."
She tapped the cane again. "Zoe was too busy assuming we didn't like her and protecting Samantha from us, for no good reason. What about you? Why didn't you tell her so? Maybe then she wouldn't have taken Samantha and gone home."
"Mother's got a point," Vivian said.
Ryan opened his mouth, then shut it again. Were they really advocating for Zoe?
Grandma Edna sniffed. "I'm hungry," she said before he could formulate a reply.
Ryan knew that in her mind, her proclamation ended the subject, which was just fine with him. He turned and started for the swinging doors leading to the dining room.
"Dinner is in the kitchen tonight."
His mother's voice stopped him and Ryan paused midstride. "We've never eaten in the kitchen."
"Then it's about time we start, isn't it?" his father asked.
"Uhh…Why?" Ryan leaned against the nearest wall, exhausted from trying to keep up with the new pace here.
His mother walked over and locked her arm with his. "Because if Samantha's going to live in Boston and be happy, she can't be subjected to all the formality and structure her mother couldn't handle."
A swell of gratitude rose in Ryan's chest as he realized how much his parents were willing to change for the sake of their granddaughter. He knew how hard it must be for them to acknowledge both their mistakes and their role in Faith's death.
He'd never been prouder of his family.
And he'd never been more certain of what he had to do next. Because despite the one-hundred-eighty-degree turn in his parents, he still couldn't envision Sam growing up anywhere near here, the place that destroyed her mother.
In the same instant he accepted his family, he also acknowledged that he needed to do what was best for Sam and that meant allowing Sam to be raised by two people who loved her. Who understood what a teenage girl needed. People who wouldn't stifle her spirit, yet would provide the proper discipline. People who'd be there when she left for school in the morning and when she came home in the afternoon. Most important, people who Ryan trusted not to deny her access to her blood relatives who also loved her.
Sam belonged with Elena and Nicholas Costas.
He spent the next hour explaining his decision to his parents, who, to his surprise, understood. He even sensed their relief at not having to deal with a teenager again this late in life.
After they ate dinner, his mother and grandmother retired early for the evening. "An after-dinner drink?" Mark asked Ryan as he poured himself a cognac.
Ryan shook his head. "How about an after-dinner discussion instead?"
"That would be a novelty," Mark said.
He had a point, since Ryan and his father hadn't been close. Ever. Perhaps it was time they began some sort of relationship based on truth and understanding. "When you had your heart attack you cut back on running the business, right?" he asked his father.
"I cut back on traveling from store to store, yes." He narrowed his gaze. "Why do you ask?"