Page 18 of Give Me Strength

My lips thin out. I don’t answer her — not that there was ever a question.

Besides, what’s there to say?

It’s complicated doesn’t even begin to describe the relationship Rachel and I had.

Bonnie continues to watch me, and her expression shifts to thoughtful. “I always believed someone like you was too good to be true. It feels good to be proven wrong.”

“I truly have no idea what it is that you’re trying to say. Contrary to popular belief, psychiatrists are not mind readers.”

“Fair enough. Rachel told me you two were getting a divorce, and that you were giving her the house. She had planned on proposing to Hannah that weekend. I even helped her pick out the ring long before that. Seeing as it wasn’t with Rachel’s personal effects, I assumed she actually did propose and that Hannah was buried with it.”

“I knew all that already. Rachel and Hannah called me afterward to give me the good news. I still don’t see what that has to do with the house.”

“See, that’s the thing. It’s not just any house.” At my puzzled expression, she adds, “It’s a ballerina’s dream house, Gilbert. I know you bought it sight unseen, but Rachel renovated it. As a former dancer, I’m a bit envious of all the amenities she managed to fit in there. It’s a shame that it’s just been sitting, unused, for the last five years. If you ever decide to part ways with it, I’d be happy to take it off your hands.”

“Who would want their dead teacher’s house as a gift?”

“Lynn would. She practically grew up in it… and from the expression on your face, you had no idea. When was the last time you did a walk-through of your house?”

Truthfully?

Never.

I was never around long enough to truly appreciate what she had done with the place. The house belonged to Rachel, and I had every intention of leaving it to her in the divorce. Now that I think about it, Hannah and Ashlynn would have moved in with her. Knowing Rachel, she would’ve wanted to adopt Ashlynn eventually. She would’ve wanted her to have the house, should anything happen to her or Hannah. So, technically, the house belongs to Ashlynn.

Personally, I’m not attached to the house, but I can see why Ashlynn would be. I’ll have to do something about that.

As an idea forms, a smile plays at the corners of my lips.

Bonnie picks up on it. “What just went through that shrinky brain of yours?”

Of all the things I could possibly say, I settle on, “You look nothing like your sister.”

She chuckles into her tea. “That’s because I don’t have a sister. I had a sister-in-law, and the displeasure of sharing DNA with Everett.”

Oh. “Still… Walsh?”

An indecipherable look passes through her eyes. “I was married, briefly.”

“Was?”

“She died.”

Oh. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m not, and it’s ancient history.” She waves me off. “I’m not one to condone cheating, but Hannah and Rachel were soulmates. Sure, they kept their relationship under wraps, but it would’ve all come out anyway, had they lived. Just as I know my brother would’ve fought Hannah on custody, even if deep down he knew that Ashlynn would’ve been better off being raised by both of them.”

Leaning back in my seat, I fold my arms. “Really.”

“Yes, really. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah. He was your brother. Still can’t wrap my head around that.”

“Yeah, well, he was a douche,” she counters. “Being perceived as a family man did wonders for his career, so that’s exactly what he did. To him, they were just objects meant to bolster his image. And, for the record, this is me speaking ill of the dead.

“My brother expected Hannah to be a stay-at-home mother, so it really pissed him off when she took the teaching job at Brookfield. Then again, I’m not sure what he expected when he knocked up a professional ballerina, married her, stuck her in a gilded cage, and expected her to stay in it while he picked up and left anytime he wanted.”

Everett Crane sounds a lot like my own parents. Control freaks.

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