Then Eliana’s eyes found the prior month’s payments, and her blood ran cold. She may not have copies of his check stubs, but she knew his income was nowhere close to what these numbers suggested.
Taking a slow, deep breath, Eliana snapped pictures of the statements and then folded them back into the envelope, sealing it with a fresh adhesive. She stacked the letters neatly on the edge of the counter and, with only the slightest shake to her hands, she pulled three mugs down from the cabinet and began prepping the tea.
She needed access to the accounts. All of them. She needed a sounding board. She needed a friend.
With a sigh, Eliana stepped back from the steeping mugs and pulled out her phone. There was only one place she could find all three of those things in one violent, proficient package.
It was time to visit Clem.
7
CLEMENTINE
The lawyer sounds hot . . . new hero?
How is he paying for this?
She could just put the alimony in an emergency fund? How sheltered is this woman?
Is Josh an idiot, or is he just an asshole that doesn’t care?
Putting the car into park before Clem’s nondescript, brick home carried with it a certain peace. Her best friend stood up from the porch swing, her brilliant red hair like a beacon in a storm, and Eliana felt like she could take an actual breath for the first time in weeks.
Zoey burst out of the backseat, sprinting for the porch at breakneck speeds while Abby followed at a slightly more reasonable pace. Eliana smiled, watching Clem embrace her kids. They rarely managed a visit. Despite only living twostates away, it was nearly an eight-hour drive. Eliana tried to remember the last visit—last year, she thought—although they FaceTimed fairly often.
Eliana climbed out of the car, hurrying up the path after her daughters and shoving them unceremoniously out of the way to wrap Clem in a tight hug. She sniffled, fighting the sudden urge to cry.
“Hey!” Zoey laughed, “You stole my spot.”
“I loved her first,” she told her, voice thick with unshed tears.
Abby, however, simply eyed Clem quietly at Zoey’s side. “How do we have the same color hair?” She asked, turning curious eyes towards her mom. “Are we actually related?”
Eliana opened her mouth to speak, but Clem dropped a silencing hand on her shoulder with a solemn shake of her head. She sighed, deep and heavy. “It’s time, Eliana. We should’ve told them by now.”
“Told us what?” Abby asked, nerves apparent in her furrowed brow.
“Yeah, told us what?” Zoey echoed, suspicion bright in her eyes as she bounced them between Eliana and Clem.
“Well, girls . . .” Clem began, stepping forward to clasp their shoulders. Despite the girls only being twelve years old, the trio were all nearly the same height. “I’m sorry you’re finding this out so late, but we only hid it toprotectyou, I promise. We only had your best interests at heart. But the truth is . . .” she paused, letting the suspense build. “I am your real father.”
The silence stretched until Abby snorted, and they all broke, laughing long and hard, until Eliana feltalmosthuman again.
“So how did you really meet?” Abby asked when the giggles began to fade.
“Third grade, actually, when my Dad and I moved to your mom’s hometown. Eliana was in love with my cousin, Marty.”
“I was not,” Eliana shoved Clem sideways. “Don’t say stuff like that. I had atinycrush that fizzled out by the end of fourth grade when he asked Macy to sit by him at the talent show.”
“Marty has red hair, too.” Clem winked at the girls, who exchanged a quick, horrified glance.
“For shit’s sake,” Eliana mumbled. “The red hair runson your father’s side,” she said aloud to the girls. “Your Grammy had the same shade until it turned grey.”
The girls nodded, but the suspicion remained, clear as day, as they hurried inside, whispering in a mobile huddle.
“They’re going to swab you for DNA in your sleep, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”
Clem shrugged, her mouth stuck in a proud, toothy grin as she stared after them. “I’ve missed y’all so damn much.”
