The kids slid off their chairs and took Melanie’s hands, excited whispers trailing behind them as they approached the glass-walled counter, its delicate pastries arranged like a jewelry case for sugar.
When they were out of earshot, Mother got right down to business.
“Am I correct in assuming you’ve finally leftthat man?”
Her tone wasn’t concerned; it was triumphant. She’d been waiting years for this.
“That man’sname is Scott,” I snapped. “And he’s my husband.”
“No need to be testy, dear.” Her voice softened into something deceptively tender. “You wouldn’t be hiding out in your father’s hotel if your marriage were intact. And quite honestly, it’s a wonder it took this long.” Mother gestured to a chair. “May I?”
She didn’t wait for permission, instead delicately glidingonto the seat. “But no matter. These things can be corrected. We’ll get you a quiet divorce; discreet of course. Then we’ll find you someone suitable—someone from a good family, with money, manners, and enough sense to give you and your children the life you were meant to have.”
Her smile sharpened. “Thank God there are only two of them. Any more and it might have been… complicated. No man wants to take on another man’s brood.”
I dragged in a breath that burned all the way down.
Mother reached across the table, the movement elegant yet calculated, and glided a manicured hand along my cheek. “It really is good to see you again, Michelle. Daddy and I have missed you so. We understand now that we pushed you into this. You were young. A mistake we all make. Now we fix it.” Her thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, as if wiping Scott away.
“You’re one of us, Michelle. Carvers never forget who they are.”
24
SCOTT: HOME ALONE
The bottle was half-empty. Or half-full, depending on how optimistic you were, which in my case wasn’t very. The whiskey burned going down, but I welcomed it. Felt like punishment. Or maybe penance. I wasn’t sure there was a difference anymore.
Paul sat next to me on the sofa Michelle had bought on Sears layaway. His boots were up on the coffee table she’d thrifted at the Salvation Army. And there was smoke curling from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. If Michelle were here, she would’ve slapped that shit out of his hand so fast. It was bad for the kids, she’d say.
“Hey, you know the rules. Put it out. And get your dirty boots off the table. Have some manners, asshole.”
“Why? The boss isn’t here.”
“Yeah, well, she could be back at any minute,” I said, clinging to hope despite Michelle and the kids having been gone for days with no communication.
“Oh, Scotty, you gotta face the facts. If Michelle were out there on her own with two little kids and no money, she would’ve already been back. Someone is helping her out.”
“She doesn’t have any friends to go to.”
Paul stared at me. “Hello, McFly.” He tapped on my forehead. “She went home. To her millions. Your kids are probably already encased in gold.”
My eyes widened. How had I not even considered that? “Why would she do that? She hates her family.”
“Well, at the moment, she hates you more.”
I rubbed the heel of my hand against my eyes, pissed that he was right, but not wanting to admit I was wrong. “It’s not like I was sleeping around or committing murder. I make one mistake, and she leaves. Takes my kids. Not a word. Shouldn’t I, at least, know they’re okay?”
Paul didn’t respond right away, and that silence made me defensive. I slammed the bottle down a little too hard. “Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped. “I didn’t do this to her. Not on purpose.”
He flicked his ash into an empty Tab cola can. “You were stealing from work, Scott.”
“I wasn’t—” I stopped myself, shaking my head. “Okay, I was. But it wasn’t something I wanted to do. I was trying to fix things. Make ends meet. Give her the life I know she deserves.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“Tell me what?”
“That she deserved more? Because Michelle seemed pretty content with the bare basics. She loves you and the kids. She left her life of luxury and spent the past six years in poverty with you. That takes dedication.”
