Page 98 of This Time Around
“I remember,” Allie said, though it had never occurred to her until now to consider who had to lose out for her family to profit. Allie cleared her throat. “So what am I supposed to do with it?”
Priscilla laughed. “Spend it, of course. I don’t recommend putting it in the bank. Obviously from the way your grandmother chose to store it, she intended to have you keep it that way. A safe deposit box might be smarter, but you could always just leave it in the attic. But bottom line, it’s yours to spend.”
“Spend,” Allie repeated, baffled by the idea of having that kind of money to her name. “I—I guess I’m just not used to having that sort of cash lying around.”
Her mother made a hrmph sound and rolled her eyes. “No, but you might have. If life had gone differently.”
Allie curled her fingers inward, digging her nails into her palms. It was possible her mom was lamenting her own incarceration, but Allie didn’t think so. It sounded like a jab about her daughter’s earning potential or her lack of a husband. It could have been any number of insults, but Allie didn’t feel like having have that argument right now. She had so many more questions to ask. She opened her mouth to voice one, but her mom cut her off.
“Have you spoken to your father lately?”
Allie hesitated. “Yes. I went to visit him a few days ago. He sends his love.”
A faint smile crossed her mother’s face, and Allie watched closely, wondering if it was an act or the real deal. “That’s nice. And his new appeal—I trust that’s all going according to plan?”
“As far as I know. We don’t really spend a lot of time talking about it.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “What do you talk about?”
“Work. Family. How he’s feeling.”
“And how is he feeling?” The hardness in her voice sounded sharp in contrast to the softness around her eyes, and Allie wondered what the hell went on behind her mom’s brittle exterior.
“He’s sad,” Allie said. “He misses Grandma. He misses you. He misses his freedom.”
Priscilla’s eyes began to glitter, and she looked up at the ceiling as though contemplating the gaucheness of florescent light fixtures. “I see,” she said. “You know, Allison?—”
“Time’s almost up, ladies!”
Allie jumped. She hadn’t even noticed the guard approaching, hadn’t realized they’d been talking this long. She leaned closer to her mom, wanting to say so much more. Wanting to hear more. Not words, exactly, but something else. Something that had been elusive throughout the entirety of their mother-daughter union.
But when Priscilla looked back at her, the mask was in place again.
“Take care, Allison.” Her mother stood, then leaned in to air kiss her on one cheek, then the other, her lips barely grazing Allie’s skin.
The money weighed heavily on Allie’s mind the following Friday. She wanted to believe her mom. She did believe her mom, dammit.
Which changed whatever she had to do from a legal standpoint. She was under no obligation to report the cash. She could sit tight for a while and take her time deciding whether to invest it or tuck it in savings or pay off debts. She had plenty of options. Plenty of time.
So why did the little voice in her head keep telling her it wasn’t that simple?
Well, she had other things to dwell on. Jack was coming to dinner, the first time in ages she’d see him without Skye or Paige or Wade or Jack’s mom or someone else close by, making them censor their conversations and cut short the lingering touches.
This time, they had the whole evening and the whole B&B to themselves. This time, Skye was on a romantic overnight getaway to Cherry Blossom Lake with Wade, and Paige was staying the night with a classmate. Allie had nearly twenty-four hours of alone time with Jack, and she planned to make the most of it.
She threw open the door at eight o’clock and grinned up at him. He wore a blue-gray shirt that brought out the color in his eyes, and he held a bottle of wine and a bouquet of daisies in the same hand.
“Hey, sexy,” she said, stretching up on tiptoe to kiss him hard and deep.
Jack responded with enough enthusiasm to leave her breathless. By the time he’d kicked the door shut, she was halfway to shimmying out of her panties and letting the appetizer burn.
“Wait,” she said, breaking the kiss and pushing against his chest. “I want you.”
Jack grinned, his familiar, dimpled grin, and Allie felt herself melting. “I think you just established that,” he said, setting the daisies and wine on an end table and reaching for her again.
“But I also want razor clams,” she said.
“Razor clams?” Jack’s hand tightened on her waist. “Fresh?”
