“With friends.”
Mother pulled her head back and frowned.“And you’re going to do that for how long?”
“Until I find my own place.”Natanya shifted on his lap and struggled to escape.He realized then that she’d dropped her stuffed chicken.After scooping the toy off the floor, he set his daughter down and handed it to her.
“Thank you.”The adoration in Natanya’s eyes made his heart ache.If nobody else was in his corner, her could count on Chelle and his baby girl.He gave her a faint smile, then faced Mother, knowing she wasn’t finished.
She huffed and shook her head.“There’s no reason you can’t come home.”
And no reason on earth would bring him back to the house where he’d grown up.His pride wouldn’t allow him, for several reasons.Those same factors wouldn’t permit him to have that conversation with her.
When he didn’t respond, she tipped her head back.“It’s clear you don’t want my help, so forget I asked.”
This was the point where he was supposed to protest and share what was on his mind, but it was a trap he wouldn’t fall into.Mother would weaponize anything he told her, and he’d hear about it when he least expected it.Same as she’d done with his father.But he had to say something, so he cracked a smile.
“Thanks for your concern.I know you can’t help it, but I’ll work things out.”
Her gaze slid to Natanya, who ran a finger over the wing of a crystal angel, one of several scattered around the poinsettia centerpiece.Mother had a love affair with her favorite ornaments and more than once, over the years, he’d been reprimanded for tearing through the living room “as if he were a wild animal.”
Gently, he touched his daughter’s forearm to stop her, then lifted her onto his thigh.
“My question is, why and how you allowed that girl to have so much access to your money.I thought you would have learned from what your father went through, but obviously not.”
His temper spiked, but he swallowed hard and forced himself not to respond.Nothing ever died in their family, including the mistakes of the past.He’d never been as grateful for a notification when his phone buzzed and he picked it up off the arm of the sofa.
A message from Lizette appeared on the screen.He sighed and closed his eyes.He’d left his wallet on the table at Wintertime.Christy, who was a physiotherapist, had drilled it into his head to stop sitting on his wallet and shifting his spine out of alignment.
Lizette would probably think he was careless to leave something as valuable as that in her reception area.Thank God it was the weekend and the place was closed.Otherwise, he might not have been so lucky.
Since he didn’t have money to return to Wintertime, and she was leaving shortly, he accepted her offer to drop it off.After a few more texts exchanged, they agreed she was passing close enough so Mother’s address wouldn’t be out of her way.
“D’you want something to eat?”Mother asked, half rising from her seat.
“I’m fine,” he said at the moment his stomach gurgled as if he hadn’t eaten since last week.
“Pride is going to be the death of you,” Mother commented and flicked at something unseen on the table between them.
“That has nothing to do with anything,” he snapped.“Earl will be here in a few minutes, so it doesn’t make sense for me to sit and eat.”
“You could take it with you.”She brushed at the leg of her pants, then added.“I won’t charge you for the container.”
His lips curved in what he hoped was a pleasant smile.“Fine.Thanks.”
When she disappeared into the kitchen, he rested his head against the back of the seat.
Natanya moved, so she was kneeling on his legs.He held her steady as she touched his cheek.“Daddy okay?”
To satisfy her, he smiled.“I’m fine, baby girl.Just resting my eyes.”
Natanya patted his jaw, then climbed over his leg and started a conversation with the chicken.
That pulled a half-grin from Shomari.He’d give almost anything to roll back time.At least, to the point where he’d been unaware of the issues now facing him.He didn’t like the man he’d become since his troubles started a month ago—irritable, impatient, and moody.It was easy to predict or at least guess how he’d behave in a crisis, but not so simple to deal with unexpected problems that hit him and how they affected his behavior.
Mother returned with the food in a small, insulated lunch bag.“I cooked dinner earlier.What’s in here is enough for two.”
“Thanks.”He rubbed his forehead, then said, “Look, I’m sorry for being short with you.”
She nodded, but didn’t speak, which told him she hadn’t forgiven him.The same way he hadn’t absolved her of how she’d treated his father.He wished they had the kind of relationship that would allow him to ask for advice and guidance, but all he would get was judgment.
