Home > If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(12)

If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(12)
Author: Jamie Beck

I buckled from a wave of self-recriminating exhaustion. “Should I lie at your feet and apologize for trusting my husband? Do you feel better saying hateful things about him and shaming me for even considering saving my marriage? It might seem weak to you, but it takes strength to forgive and live by the ‘for better or worse’ part of the vow. Granted, this is definitely a worse part. I’m plenty devastated, angry, and humiliated without reminders from you. But we were happy until this, so maybe counseling can fix whatever broke. I don’t know, but my daughter deserves a chance at a whole family. And I deserve the chance to decide whether my marriage is salvageable.”

Stubborn as ever, Kev groused, “If Marcy cheated or stole my mom’s money, I doubt I’d still love her much.”

“Stop saying Lyle stole money. He borrowed it.” I shook my head. “And you have no idea what you might be able to forgive until you’re faced with it, so don’t judge me.”

Normally I wouldn’t be so defensive, but each attack on Lyle also felt like an attack on me. I wasn’t accustomed to Kevin questioning my judgment.

He waved the note in the air. “Without collateral, this isn’t worth much more than toilet paper, but I’ll look at it at home. Meanwhile, I’ll hire an investigator to track down Lyle. Erin should know about all of this, too. We’ll all need to band together if the worst comes to pass. In fact, why isn’t she here?”

“She’s at a yoga camp or something,” Mom muttered, mouth pinched, eyes cool. I never wanted her to look at me that way.

“When she gets back, you’ll tell her?” Kevin crossed his arms for the umpteenth time since this conversation had started.

“Obviously.” Although I’d prefer more time to adjust to my new reality before sharing the embarrassing details with her. If I hadn’t needed Kevin’s legal expertise, I probably wouldn’t have told him yet, either.

Mom went to the bookshelf that displayed decades of family photos and traced a frame with one finger. “I wish your father were here. He’d know what to do.”

There wouldn’t have been funds to lend if Dad were still alive, but I kept quiet. He’d been so careful planning for retirement and protecting Mom with those policy proceeds. He’d be heartsick that we had handed them over for a deal we knew so little about. All my life I’d followed rules and weighed my decisions precisely to avoid this kind of situation. The one time I acted like my sister, this was the result?

I wouldn’t let this be the way our story ended. And I wouldn’t let Lyle ruin my mother’s future, either. I had no idea how I’d fix this, but I wouldn’t rest until I did.

Kevin sighed, studying our mom. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. You’re right, it shouldn’t be a mistake to trust family. I’m cynical because of the stories I hear at work. Try to relax while we sort it out, okay? I promise I’ll do everything I can to get answers quickly.”

“Okay.” I probably should’ve felt better about his apology than I did.

Kevin strode over to hug me, speaking softly right in my ear. “Sorry my reaction made this harder. I didn’t mean to do that. I love you, sis. I only want what’s best for you.”

“Thanks.” I eased away, having nothing more to say. Kevin hadn’t been all wrong. If Marcy hurt him, I’d be equally mistrustful of her.

“I’ll call later with a name and number, and we’ll get answers as soon as possible.”

I nodded with my eyes closed.

Kevin hugged our mom and then saw himself out of her house. Once he left, I slung my arm around her shoulders. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to worry. Lyle has loved you from the start because you made him so welcome. You know how much that meant, given his family history. No matter what happens between him and me, he’ll pay you back. Hang in there until we get some answers. I swear I’ll put things right. You still trust me, don’t you?”

“Everything will work out. Your dad is watching over us.” She fell silent for a second, having not answered my question.

Last year his unexpected heart attack had rocked our family. I’ll never unhear the hollow anguish in my mother’s keening when she called me with the news. That anniversary was coming up quickly and weighing on us all, especially Mom, who wanted us to gather together that day. My new circumstances made me dread the occasion all the more.

Anyway, I’d never believed much in guardian angels, but who was I to question that when I still clung to faith in my faithless husband? My mother obviously needed something to believe in while vulnerable. “Mom, what happened with the spatula?”

She looked at me, brows knitted in confusion. “What?”

“The pan in the sink. It looks like the spatula melted.”

“Oh, that.” Her cheeks flushed. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you forget to turn off the stove?” Was that kind of thing happening regularly?

“I got distracted by Dodo. She called and we started talking, so I forgot about the pan.”

Mom’s sister, Dorothy—the one person who had even higher expectations of people than my mother had—enjoyed lording her superiority over the rest of us whenever possible. “Please don’t tell Aunt Dodo what’s going on.”

Mom’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. “Of course not. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

The part of me that heaved a sigh of relief also cringed for being happy that my mother would suffer in silence rather than seek comfort from her sister—a dynamic I understood too well. If only Erin and I had learned to lean on each other instead of circling each other like defensive porcupines. Unlike Erin and me, Dodo and my mother spoke daily, but my mother did share my reticence to confide in her sister.

Regardless, I shouldn’t be selfish. “But, actually, if you want to talk to her about it, I’d understand.”

“Good grief, Amanda. If she thinks I can’t manage my affairs, she’ll swoop in and take over like she did with George.”

Dodo had had their elder brother declared incompetent before assuming control over all aspects of his life. My mother had never believed that George’s Parkinson’s had diminished his mental abilities to a degree that required that humiliation. He died a few years ago, so it was moot now except for the lingering unease it instilled in my mom.

I should be grateful that Erin had no interest in controlling anything. Instead I felt sad that my mother’s dysfunctional sibling family history seemed to be repeating itself.

Mom pointed a finger at me. “Not one word of this to anyone but Erin.” The childhood scars from her father’s highly publicized addiction and professional meltdown had left our mother paranoid about scandal. When working as a federal prosecutor, he’d mangled some high-profile white-collar criminal case while drunk and quickly become the talk of Pottstown, Pennsylvania. The media circus around that had dogged the family. After my mom and her siblings were subjected to playground ridicule, Grandma finally divorced him and moved to Baltimore with the kids, where she eventually remarried.

“Okay. But if things like that—with the pan—keep happening, you’ll tell me, right? In fact, would you like to stay with me for a few days?”

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