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145 An Unanswered Call and a Grandmother’s Gambit
The question lingered uncomfortably as he poured himself another scotch, Elara’s continued absence from the family dinner table more conspicuous than ever.
As Eleanor rose to take Cora’s hand, she shot Damien a look that clearly said their
conversation wasn’t over.
“And what about your family? Is that not fulfilling as well?”
Elara had just stepped out of the shower when her phone rang again. She wrapped herself in a towel and glanced at the screen, expecting Damien’s name.
“How about this?” Damien offered. “I’ll take you skiing next weekend instead. We can make it a father–daughter trip.”
“Oh, I’d be better if my favorite granddaughter–in–law would come visit me once in a while,” Eleanor said pointedly.
Damien set his phone down and knelt to his daughter’s level. “Your mother is very busy with her work right now, Coco.”
She let it ring until it stopped.
Cora’s expression brightened slightly. “Will you teach me how to go on the big slopes?”
“No, you came here for dinner,” Eleanor agreed smoothly. “A dinner I specifically asked you to bring Elara to.”
Cora looked unconvinced but nodded reluctantly.
Elara Vance stared at her phone screen, the nursing home’s number glaring back at her. Her finger hovered over the call button before she sighed and set the device down. She’d meant to visit her mother today, but the memory of their last painful interaction still stung.
“Not today,” she murmured, turning back to her laptop.
There was a brief silence before Eleanor spoke again, her tone softer. “Elara, I worry
You work too hard.”
about
you.
Ten minutes later, it buzzed again. Damien. Again.
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Damien gave her a sharp look. “What would you have me do? Drive to her apartment- and drag her here?”
After ending the call, Elara sat motionless, still clutching the phone. She genuinely adored Eleanor. The older woman had always been kind to her, even when Damien hadn’t been. But visits to Thorne Manor meant facing Damien, and often Vivienne, in a setting where she felt perpetually diminished.
Eleanor’s eyes flashed. “Seven years of marriage, a child together, and you’re just… giving up?”
Had Elara really reached her breaking point? Or was there something else behind her sudden determination to end their marriage?
Elara winced. “I’ve been very busy with work.”
“Don’t ‘Grandmother‘ me,” she interrupted. “That woman is still your wife, regardless of whatever is happening between you two.”
“And what are you doing about it?” Eleanor challenged.
The question landed like a punch. “Of course it is,” Elara said automatically, though they both knew it wasn’t entirely true.
“Your mother loves you very much,” he said carefully. “Sometimes we need to be understanding when people are going through difficult times.”
“Elara, my dear,” Eleanor’s warm voice flowed through the speaker. “How are you?”
She worked steadily through the afternoon, stopping only when her eyes began to strain from staring at the screen. The sun had already set when she finally shut her laptop.
The comparison made Damien pause. It was true–Vivienne had been remarkably consistent with Cora lately, while Elara had become increasingly distant.
“If that’s what it takes,” Eleanor said calmly, sipping her tea.
Damien Thorne scowled at his phone. Three calls and a text–all unanswered. Elara
was deliberately avoiding him, and his patience was wearing thin.
Elara turned the phone face–down and continued working.
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“She’s always busy,” Cora complained, stomping her foot. “She promised!”
“Did she?” Eleanor asked quietly. “Or did she simply reach her breaking point after years of being ignored?”
Damien downed his scotch in one swallow. “You know perfectly well what’s happening. She’s filing for divorce.”
“Giving her what she wants,” he answered flatly.
“So you gave up?” Eleanor’s tone was deceptively light.
“Daddy, when is Mommy coming home?” Cora asked, her small face scrunched with frustration as she clutched her ski jacket. “She promised to take me skiing this
weekend.”
Damien watched them go, his expression unreadable. His grandmother’s words
echoed in his mind.
Damien sighed, brushing a strand of hair from his daughter’s face. “Sometimes adults have important responsibilities that can’t wait. I’m sure she didn’t want to disappoint
you.”
“But she did disappoint me,” Cora insisted, her lower lip trembling. “Aunt Vivienne never cancels our plans.”
“She gave up first,” Damien countered, setting down his glass with more force than
necessary.
Her phone buzzed beside her. Damien’s name flashed on the screen.
As Cora skipped away, Damien frowned at his phone again. He needed to tell Elara about tonight’s dinner with Eleanor. His grandmother had specifically requested Elara’s presence, and Eleanor Thorne was not someone who took no for an answer.
He dialed Elara’s number once more. Straight to voicemail.
“Too busy for dinner tonight? I’ve asked the chef to prepare your favorite salmon dish.”
“I enjoy my work,” Elara replied, sitting on the edge of her bed. “It’s fulfilling.”
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“She’s not coming” Damien informed his grandmother as he entered her sitting room
at Thorne Manor.
Eleanor Thorne, elegant even at eighty–two, arched an eyebrow. “Did you even try to
convince her?”
“We’ll see,” he promised, ruffling her hair. “Now go get ready for dinner at
Great–Grandma’s house.”
“Not hard enough.” Eleanor adjusted her pearl necklace. “Next time, don’t bother coming without her.”
“Damn it, Elara,” he muttered.
She ignored them all.
“I tried,” Damien insisted.
The YodaVision project demanded her full attention anyway. Their new AI interface was showing promising results, but several key algorithms still needed refinement. Elara lost herself in the code, grateful for the distraction from her personal life.
Damien’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t come here for a lecture.”
Her phone showed three missed calls and the unread text from Damien.
“Grandmother-”
“That’s all I ask, dear.” Eleanor’s voice was gentle. “Take care of yourself.”
A text notification appeared on her laptop screen–also from Damien.
“She’s not answering my calls,” Damien replied, pouring himself a scotch from the crystal decanter. “I texted her as well.”
Eleanor recovered quickly, turning to her great–granddaughter with a warm smile. “How lovely, darling! Let’s put them in water.”
“Then perhaps you can spare one evening soon,” Eleanor persisted. “Next week, perhaps?”
Instead, it displayed “Eleanor Thorne.”
She couldn’t do it. Not tonight. Not yet.
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She hesitated before answering. “Hello, Eleanor”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor,” Elara said, genuinely regretful. “I have deadlines for the next few days. I just can’t get away”
Elara closed the notification without responding. These days, she avoided Thorne Manor whenever possible. The sprawling estate had never felt like home, but now it felt like enemy territory.
Elara closed her eyes. “I’ll try, Eleanor. That’s all I can promise.”
“I’m well, thank you. And you?”
“Eleanor wants us at the manor for dinner tonight.”
Cora chose that moment to burst into the room, breaking the tense silence.
“Great–Grandma! I brought you flowers from the garden!”
Damien stared at his grandmother for a long moment before a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Should I leave now then?”
The question caught Eleanor off guard. For once, the formidable matriarch was speechless.
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