A glass? How about the whole freaking bottle?
My mother and I eyeballed one another as we walked from the foyer into the living room. Scotty was telling my dad important Spiderman facts and Allen sipped a glass of whiskey. He looked up when we entered the room.
“Hey, Rose,” he said. He put his glass on the coffee table and reached forward to kiss my cheek, something he’d never done.
I pulled back before his lips could make contact. “Hey, Allen. What are you doing?”
He threw out a nervous laugh. “Oh, sorry. How about a drink? Barb, glass of wine?”
Just then my sister walked into the living room with a tray of cheese and crackers, a bottle, and three glasses. “Here we go,” she said a little too loudly. She poured and handed each of us a glass.
I stood by the fireplace, sipped the wine and nibbled a piece of cheese. My mom refused any food and sat down, her spine never touching the back of the sofa.
Jacqueline sent Scotty off to change out of his costume before dinner. Once he left she turned to the rest of us. “All right,” she said and cleared her throat. “I know you might be a bit upset that I did all this without telling you. But I decided this unfortunate situation has gone on long enough.” Her shoulders sagged with relief, like she’d been screwing up all of her courage to say her little sentence and now she could relax. My poor, deluded sister. She had no idea what hell she’d unleashed.
“Pardon me?” Barbara asked. Her face was expressionless, her eyes cold. “To what situation do you refer, Jacqueline?”
Pity, fascination, and a little schadenfreude had me riveted to my sister’s reaction. Rarely was she a victim of my mother’s displeasure. That was almost always reserved for me, thank you very much.
Jacks’ gaze flew around. If she was looking for help, she wasn’t going to find it in this room. “Um,” Jacqueline said and cleared her throat again. “The situation between you and Rose.”
“And what situation is that?” my mother asked.
At this point my father shifted in his chair and attempted to calm the tension. “All right, let’s all just relax.”
My mother’s gaze shifted to him. “I’m perfectly relaxed, John. Do I not look relaxed to you?”
My father, being a man of reasonable intelligence, shut up and sipped his whiskey.
Jacks’ eyes were shiny with unshed tears. I decided to take pity on her. After all, she tried to do a nice thing, brokering peace between my mom and me. She didn’t realize it would never happen.
“That’s enough, Mom. She was just trying to help.” My mother sucked in a breath. “Thank you for trying, Jacks.” I set my glass down. “Now, I’m going to go find Scotty.” I left the room and climbed the stairs.
I stepped into his bedroom with its race car wallpaper. Scotty, still in his costume, attempted to climb on top of his dresser. His Spidey sense must not have been working because he never heard me enter. I wrangled him off the dresser, made him put on his jeans, sweater, and tennis shoes then chased him down the stairs.
Dinner was awkward and quiet. So pretty much business as usual. Scotty talked about school, my dad and Allen talked about work, and my mother ate miniscule bites of food, refusing to speak to anyone except my gap-toothed nephew.
I helped Jacks clear the table while the men went to the den to watch Sports Center and Barbara went to the living room with Scotty.
“What were you thinking, Jacks?”
“I don’t know.” She twisted the napkins in her hands. “I just wanted the two of you to get along. Now Mom’s mad at me.”
“She’ll get over it. If you want to make her get over it even faster, grovel.” I loaded the flatware into the dishwasher.
“Seriously, Rose, how do you stand it? It makes me crazy when she freezes me out like that.”
“I got used to it. It was preferable to kissing her ass.”
Jacks winced.
“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right.” She leaned against the fridge. “I’m a people pleaser. Always have been.”
I hugged her tight. “You’re a good person and a great mom.”
“Thanks.”
We finished the dishes and I left the kitchen and headed downstairs where Allen and my dad watched TV. I said goodbye and my dad gave me a distracted pat on the arm. Then I went upstairs and found my mother sitting alone in the living room, her laptop open on the sofa next to her. She looked up when I walked in.
“I’m taking off.”
“Oh.” She shifted slightly. “Any word on Axton?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She sighed heavily. “Honestly, can’t I even ask a simple question?” She shook her head and took off her reading glasses.
I decided to be honest for once. “No, Mom, not really. I feel like I need a lawyer before I answer anything or you may use it against me later.”
“Fine.” She turned her attention to her computer.
But I wasn’t quite finished with her. Normally, I let things slide off my back. It’s so pointless to argue with her, that I don’t bother. Sure I get pissed at her more aggressive than passive digs, and stew about it later, but rarely do I give her the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me. Tonight though, I was worried about Jacks.
“Listen.” I waited until she looked up before continuing. “I know you’re pissed—”
“Language.”
“Fine,” I conceded, “I know you’re angry at Jacks for arranging all this.” I wiggled my finger between the two of us. “And for interfering.” I paused to see if she would respond. If you could call an icy stare a response, then I guess I got one. “She meant well. And I don’t want you to be mean to her.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Rosalyn.”
“Huh, I’m sure you do, Mom.”
I found Scotty in his room, playing with his little racecars. “Play cars with me, Aunt Rose.”
“Sorry Sport, not tonight. How about a hug goodbye?”
He hopped up and ran to me, reaching out his arms. I caught him and swung him high before pulling him into a tight hug.
Back downstairs I kissed my sister on the cheek and thanked her for dinner before leaving.
“What did you say to Mom?” she asked.
“What makes you think I said anything?”
“She looks mad enough to spit nails and you’re the only one who inspires that look.”
“Good.” Hopefully she would be so angry with me for calling her out she’d forget all about Jacks’ interference.
It started to drizzle, so I flipped on the windshield wipers and hoped my plastic bag window was strong enough to keep the inside of my car dry.
As I drove home, the drizzle became a full blown storm. The temperature dropped and the heater in my car blew out lukewarm air. But so far, the plastic held up.
I pulled into my parking lot, and as I got out of my car, I covered my head with my purse and made a run for it. But before I taken more than a few steps, a large, black SUV with tinted windows slammed to a stop in front of me.
Chapter 17
Henry jumped out of the passenger seat and grabbed my arm, then yanked me toward the car.
I dropped my purse and tried to break away from him as cold rain stung my face. I screamed and pulled and slapped at him. It didn’t do me a bit of good. Henry simply scooped me up and tossed me into the back seat next to a bald giant dressed in black.
He looked at me with pale, expressionless eyes. “Boss wants to see you.” He didn’t blink. It was creepy.
“Well, I don’t want to see him.” I tried to open the door, but they must have engaged the child locks because it wouldn’t budge.
Henry climbed into the front seat.
I glanced out the window at my purse lying on the wet pavement and hoped they didn’t notice it. If Henry or his henchmen looked inside, they would find all my clues. The list of names Eric decrypted, the numbers from Packard’s phone, the list of businesses owned by NorthStar. Also, if they weren’t planning on letting me go, finding my purse might convince the police I had been kidnapped. Always a long shot with Huntingford’s finest, but a shot just the same.