Mom laughs. “She’ll like that I’m sure.”
I hand the bag of food to Scarlet, who gives me a little nod before ushering Jackson to the table.
“Mom?” I ask. “Can we talk in private?”
“Of course, honey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I inhale slowly. Scarlet was right: it’s better if the truth comes from me, no matter how uncomfortable this conversation will be. Mom follows me into the sunroom. We walk past Quinn, who fell asleep on the couch in the living room with Emma on her chest. “It’s about Scarlet.”
“Is she all right?”
“She is.” I pace toward the windows overlooking the backyard. God, this is awkward. But I know it has to be said. I want to build a life with Scarlet, and we can’t have this lingering. Well, she can’t. I’m fine with letting the past be in the past.
“She told me she used to con people.”
I can feel Mom’s eyes on me. “What?”
I turn around, swallowing hard. “She used to be a con artist and would hustle money out of men at bars.”
Mom doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “But she seems so sweet.”
“Yeah, she does.” I run my hand through my hair. “She wanted you all to know in case it ever came up again later.”
“Does she still con people?”
“No.”
Mom sinks down onto a lounge chair. “Why did she tell you?”
“Now that’s a funny story.” I pace to the other side of the room. “She has a sister…who’s in jail.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. She said her sister got caught up with the wrong crowd and tried to rob a store.”
“Jesus Christ,Wes!” Mom’s eyes widen. “Scarlet is a con-artist and her sister is a robber. And you trust her with Jackson?”
“Yes,” I say seriously. “I do. And I love her.”
Mom’s lips pull into a thin line. “Are you sure you’re not too infatuated with her to see clearly?”
“I’m sure. She’s had a hard life, Mom. Her own mother was an addict, and Scarlet dropped out of school to raise her brother and sister. She was only able to go back when her alcoholic father showed up, and then her mother OD’d and died. Scarlet is the one who found her and had to tell her siblings she was dead. Her father is in a shithole of a nursing home and she’s the only one taking care of him.”
Mom falls silent, and I pace back and forth, waiting to hear from her.
“Mom?” I finally ask. “Say something.”
Mom flicks her eyes to mine. “Poor thing. She turned out better than most in her situation, I suppose.” She leans back, rubbing her forehead. I’ll leave out the part about Scarlet planning to con me for now.
“Do you think differently of her now?”
“Yes,” Mom answers honestly. “But it doesn’t make me like her any less. I feel bad for her, but I don’t think being a victim of circumstance excuses poor choices.”
“I don’t either, and Scarlet will agree. She doesn’t want that life anymore.”
Mom, who’s patience and understanding has always amazed me, looks up and smiles. “I don’t think that’s a problem now, is it?”
I smile back. “No. Her life is here now.” With a sigh, I sit next to Mom. “Do you believe people can change?”
“Yes, but only if the change comes from within. You can’t change a person, but they can change themselves. Do you think Scarlet wants to change?”
“I know she wants to. And she has. Who she is now…that’s who she’s meant to be.”
Mom puts her arm around my shoulders. “You’ve changed too.”
“I have?”
“For the better.”
I look through the sunroom doors in the general direction of the kitchen. “We have Scarlet to thank for that.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Scarlet
“I think Salsa is a good name.” I give Jackson an encouraging nod.
“It is cute,” Quinn agrees.
“Do you think Daddy will let Salsa come home with us?” Jackson picks up the kitten and kisses her head. Wes got a little nervous around the time he was supposed to go into work. Instead of having Jackson come back here, I went over to Quinn’s. Jackson and I are staying the night here, and Wes is coming by in the morning.
Even though Daisy was arrested and released with potential charges, we have no idea if she knows I’m back. And once she finds out her plans to sabotage the race, drive me out of town, and get Wes back didn’t work, she’ll be pissed. She might do something crazy.
Though if she’s smart, she’ll be on her perfect behavior so she can try to convince a judge that she’s worthy of any sort of visitation rights with Jackson, which seem unlikely considering she basically tried to kidnap him.
Still, I’m worried. Worried she’ll hurt Jackson and worried she’ll ruin Weston’s career. His parents know—more or less—of my colorful past, and while I can tell his mom was trying hard not to hold it against me, I know she doesn’t fully trust me yet.
And I don’t blame her.
At least she didn’t come after me with a pitchfork or get the stake ready for a burning. The twins already know, which just leaves Dean, Archer…and Quinn. I don’t want my boyfriend’s sister to hate me. And I don’t want to lose the woman who’s quickly becoming my best friend.
“We’ll work on it.” I smile and pet the kitten. “He is very friendly. Are they ready to leave their mom yet?”
“They are, but don’t tell Archer,” Quinn whispers. “I’ll miss them.”
“Maybe we can take two,” I say. “Then you’ll be able to visit, and you can keep the others, right?”
“I’d like it.”
“You have enough space.”
“That’s what I said!” Quinn laughs. We’re sitting in her living room, and five of the eight cats are in here with us. Emma laughs when a fat orange cat comes over and rubs his head on her. He lazily saunters off, and she crawls after him.
“She’s fast!”
“I know.” Quinn gets up to grab her baby. “Too fast. I’m already getting anxiety about the balcony looking over the living room. I wake up in the middle of the night thinking she fell over.”
“That’s so unlikely to happen,” I tell her. “Lots of people have fancy catwalk thingies like that in their houses.”
“I know.” She wrinkles her nose. “I told Archer I want to line the floor with mattresses just in case.”
“You’ll encourage her to jump,” Archer teases, coming into the living room. “I would have if I were a kid.”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Quinn whisper-yells, but Jackson is too enthralled in the kitten he’s renamed Salsa to hear anything. I yawn and look at the clock. Thank God it’s almost bedtime. I’m wiped out.
It’s been a long fucking day, which I feel like is a summary of my life. Well, until Weston, that is. Things changed the moment I stepped foot on his front porch, and I think I knew, deep down, that I wanted that change.