My gaze went to her. She sat on the floor stacking acrylic colored blocks on top of each other. Her structure would reach a certain height, then she’d smack it, sending it toppling over. Then she’d laugh in this high-pitched squeal of pure happiness. I could feel it vibrate through me. Warm me as it smoothed over every sharp, malformed piece of my past that had created the prickly person I was today.
I wondered if I’d ever felt that free. Looking at my mom, listening to her grumble, I doubted it. The household I grew up in kept score. Mom, the perpetual victim, suffered from real wounds aswell as perceived ones. Starting with her mother’s horrific, fiery death and continuing with my dad’s car accident.
The latter let Mom fully and finally recast and retool her entire life story as a person who things happened to so that she never had to change her behavior. He left her—willingly or not—and we all, everyone who knew her, paid for his decision. Worse, she became my lifetime burden.
Lukas drove home with me from the attorney’s office. He said he’d get a rideshare back to the office after we’d had a chance to talk. Talking meant waiting for Mom to slink off in a ball of fury and despair.
He spent the last few minutes wiping off the kitchen counter, removing all signs of Mom’s day drinking. Every move telegraphed his intention to clean up after another Clarke woman, emotionally and physically, as if being our collective keeper was his part-time job.
“Isabel. I know you’re stressed but—”
She grabbed his arm, holding him tight to her side. “You can fix this.”
To his credit, he didn’t balk or push her away. He eased his body out of her punishing grip, putting a few inches between them without insulting her or fully escaping her hold. “What exactly?”
Crunch. “Mommy!”
Another building destroyed. Everly clapped and cheered at her accomplishment.
“Just a second, honey.” I winked at her when I really wanted to take four steps across the kitchen and pick her up. Smash herlittle body against mine and not let go. First, Mom demanded attention. “We can talk about this later. After—”
“We need to deal with this now,” Isabel snapped. “If you’re not willing to help me, he is.”
Poor Lukas. Mom adopted him as her protector the second we started dating and refused to let him go even after we signed the separation agreement, signaling the official end to our marriage.
“He’s a prosecutor.” The explanation wouldn’t stick but I tried anyway.
“Then prosecute her. This Hanna.” Isabel ignored me and unleashed her dark energy on Lukas. “She weaseled her way into the Tanner family. Curled up against Patrick like a little—”
“You don’t know that.” Lukas fully extricated his arm from her overzealous clench as he spoke. He moved around the kitchen island to the refrigerator. He had a glass of water poured and sitting in front of my mom in record time.
She didn’t let up on her mix of begging and ordering. She leaned across the counter, practically willing Lukas to join in her crusade. “You said it yourself. Xavier dumped his meaningful assets in a family trust. Hanna is not family.”
Lukas shrugged. “It sounds like her son is.”
Yeah, it did and that meant... Damn. I definitely needed wine. And a lot of it. “If true, that makes Jeremy Sato, what, your cousin? My cousin? The once-removed thing is confusing.”
Isabel turned on me, ready with a severe frown and sharp tone. “That’s not funny.”
“It sort of is.” In awhat the hellkind of way.
Bang. Bang.“Mommy!”
“Everly, enough.” Isabel slapped her hand against the counter. “The adults are talking.”
Everly jumped.
I came out of my chair like a shot. “Do not talk to her like that. Ever.”
Mom performed herhow dare youeye roll. “A little discipline won’t hurt her.”
I could hear Everly’s sad hiccupping sound and went to her. Picked her up but instead of savoring her sweetness tried to reason with my mom’s determination to remain unreasonable.
“She’s not even three.” Thirty months, to be exact, but grandma bullying wasn’t okay at any age.
“You’re proving my point about being too lax.”
This was the wrong time. The wrong damned day. “Yeah, because you’re mother of the year.”
