Page 161 of A Dirty Business
I cracked a grin, getting a glimpse of my old mom there. “That’s good to hear, Mom.”
Her eyes grew watery again, and she pulled her hand away. “You cleaned. You remembered how I used to love tea, and now you’re calling me Mom again. How’d I luck out getting a daughter like you?”
Oh-kay. I was fully frozen in place. The old Chelsea Montell would next be spitting out how I ruined her life. Or something like that. I was waiting for it, already hardening up inside.
“I got a lot of apologies to make, a lot of regrets that’ll haunt me forever, but you. You being here. You still taking care of me. I never did anything to deserve this. Thank you, Jess. I mean it.” The tears started to fall from her eyes.
I frowned. “Mom?”
She ignored them, regret flashing bright in her gaze. “I’d love for you to stay as long as you want. This place will always be yours, and I mean that. Literally. I changed my will when I was in treatment. Got ahold of my lawyers and had them put the house in your name. You’re the owner. Your man helped make all that happen.”
She said that almost casual, off the cuff, as she reached for her tea and took it to the cupboard. She opened one, reached for a cup, and asked, grabbing a second one, “You want some?”
I let the fridge door shut behind me. “What’d you just say?”
She put the second cup down on the counter. “I was asking if you wanted some tea?”
“No,” I ground out. “About the other stuff.”
“The house? You own it. You’ve been paying the bills. It’s your house. I mean, look at the place. You’re the one who cleaned it up. You’re already putting your stamp on it, but it’s yours.”
“No.” Everything in me tensed up. “About the other shit, about my man making this all possible.”
She frowned. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No.” My voice was hoarse because what did that mean? Any of it? All of it? “He did not.”
“They weren’t helping her.” Trace was in the doorway, and he eased in as if he’d been listening for a while. “Bear and Leo weren’t going to help her. I pulled strings, saw the proposed treatment for her. Thirty days, but she wouldn’t be in a facility. She’d stay here and go in every day for individual and group therapy. It wouldn’t have worked. She needed more, so I made it possible.”
“You paid?”
“I paid. I did everything. She needed intensive long-term therapy, and it’s not done. She’s not done. She has daily group therapy, and she sees a counselor three times a week. She’s also going to do community service. I believe she’s volunteering at a local animal shelter.”
I had no idea how to process any of this. I turned to my mom, who had frozen in place too. She shrugged, holding up a hand. “I thought you knew.”
“An animal shelter?”
“I loved animals. You remember when we had that dog when you were little?”
“Barnabee.”
“Yeah. Such an idiot. Not a clue his breed, but didn’t matter. He was the best thing that we got in this house. Besides you kids, of course.”
“He took off one night. I never knew why.”
“He didn’t take off. I gave him away.”
“What? Why?” How many more punches could I take today?
“Your dad would’ve killed him. Always threatening. Didn’t like how you took to him, how I took to him. Even Isaac loved him. Your dad wasn’t one to believe someone or something else was getting more love than him. I found him a good home so you’d not grow up knowing your dad killed him.”
I was rocked by all of this. “What family?”
“He passed a few years ago, but we can go over there. They send me Christmas cards every year. I’ll show you the pictures they sent of him. They have three kids. The little girl had bad depression, and Barnabeehelped her a lot—that’s what they shared with me. Seems right judging by the photos. He’s half on the girl’s lap in every one of them.”
A choked sob ripped from me.
I couldn’t begin to comprehend any of this.
