Chapter 11
“I’m concerned about your blood pressure,” Dr. Gerstenberger said, a frown pulling her brows together. “And you haven’t gained any weight since your last visit. The baby is doing well, but I’m worried about you. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
Allison told herself to stay calm and answer the question in the most neutral way possible. If she actually told Dr. Gerstenberger how she was really feeling, she might start crying and never stop. Or start laughing hysterically and then start crying. Either way she would end up in tears and her lovely doctor would consider admitting her for a psych evaluation.
“Peter’s, ah, traveling on business,” she lied. “I’m nearly seven months pregnant, working, and I have a twenty-month-old at home. You can imagine how I’m feeling.”
“It’s tough,” her doctor said. “You’re not going to like this, but you have to take care of yourself. You’re not twenty-three.”
Allison managed a genuine smile. “I know, I know. I’m having an old-lady pregnancy. I have to be careful. I’m being careful about what I eat.” When she could eat, she added mentally.
“You need rest and nutrition. I know your son makes relaxing difficult, but you need to do that, as well. I don’t want to put you on bed rest for the last few weeks of your pregnancy.”
Bed rest! Allison held in a shriek. Oh, sure. Bed rest. Why not? By the end of her pregnancy, she would be homeless, so hey, she would just hang out in her car. Resting would be absolutely no problem.
“I’ll do better,” she said, hoping she meant the words.
“Good. I want to see you in three weeks. Eat more, put your feet up and hang in there. We’ll get through this.”
Allison wished that was true, but she had her doubts. The situation that was her life seemed unsolvable. The only bright spot was she got paid today. The money would help for sure. At this point, she wanted to save as much as possible for whatever hit was coming next. If nothing else, she would need it to survive the few weeks after Bethany was born.
She ignored the fact that she would probably be homeless by then. Why think about the most depressing thing?
She dressed quickly, made her next appointment, then left her doctor’s office. She was going to swing by the grocery store before picking up Jackson. Yes, that would burn up precious day care credits, but it was so much easier to shop without him, especially when the store would be crowded. She would stock up on staples and replenish their fresh fruits and vegetables. She’d downloaded as many coupons as she could find and pored over the weekly ads. Pork tenderloin was on sale at a buy-one-get-one-free price. That would provide the two of them with at least ten protein servings, maybe more.
Forty minutes later she loaded her grocery bags into the back of her Subaru. There’d been a pop-up sale on the hot cereal Jackson liked, so she’d bought three boxes. She wasn’t too exhausted and if she ignored the threat of bed rest, she was kind of having a good day.
As she drove home, she wished Peter was with her so they could talk. She missed his arms around her, his gentle voice, the way he took care of her and Jackson. Her anger from the visit had long faded and now she was just left with her loneliness and worry.
She told herself not to dwell on the bad. She had to stay positive, if not for herself, then for the baby. Better for her to speculate on how much her paycheck would be. She’d put in a lot of extra hours and had the back pain to prove it. She was hoping it was at least two hundred more than usual. Maybe a little more. The taxes were always confusing and—
Her breath caught in her chest as her entire body went cold. Panic seized her and her hands started shaking. No! Just no!
“Don’t you dare,” she screamed out loud. “Don’t you dare!”
She checked her rearview mirror before pulling into a fast food parking lot. Nausea joined the fear, and she was trembling so hard, she could barely pull her phone out of her bag.
She unlocked the screen then swiped to the banking app. After opening it, she quickly navigated to her checking account.
“No,” she moaned, staring at the screen until her tears blurred everything.
There it was, as always. Her monthly paycheck, sitting right where it should, after being automatically deposited. It was nearly three hundred dollars more than she usually earned, in a bank account frozen by the government.
She’d worked her ass off for nothing, because she’d never once thought to stop the automatic deposits. She could see the money, but it was just out of reach—held in an account she couldn’t access. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right and she couldn’t do anything about it.
The shaking went away and the tears dried up. Even the nausea subsided. Allison felt herself drifting into a gray place of nothing. She was in her body, yet not. There was simply too much, she thought dully. Too much bad and no way out.
She tossed her phone into her bag, then checked for cars before backing out of the parking space. She drove home and parked in the driveway, then managed to carry in all the groceries. She made it all the way to the living room before the emotions crashed into her.
She dropped the bags and sank to the floor, covering her face with her hands and screaming as loudly as she could.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!”
She couldn’t do this anymore. There was no way. Just when she started to think she could get through this, something else happened. She could probably manage if Peter was here to help, but he wasn’t. Bad enough to miss him, worse to manage this on her own.
She cried until there were no tears left, then rocked back and forth, trapped in a hell she couldn’t escape. She was out of ideas, out of options, out of hope. Worse, she thought maybe she didn’t even care.
“Knock, knock. It’s me.”
The front door opened and Summer stepped inside. The teen’s wide smile instantly faded as she stared at Allison.
“Oh my God! What happened?” Her stepdaughter was at her side in an instant. “Allison, are you all right? Is it the baby?”
Allison stared at her, knowing there was nothing to say, no way to explain why she sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by groceries. She was too tired to come up with a lie.
“They took my paycheck,” she said dully. “I worked all those extra hours for nothing. Swollen ankles, aching back—for nothing. I did it to have a little extra and they took it.”
Summer crouched next to her, rubbing her arm. “Who took it?”
“The bank. It was automatically deposited and the accounts are frozen, so it went in but I can’t get it out.” She tried to smile and was pretty sure she failed. “The doctor’s threatening bed rest if I don’t take care of myself. Isn’t that funny? When am I supposed to do that? Peter’s in jail. I don’t have anyone. I’m responsible for all of this and I don’t know what to do. When the lease is up, we’ll be homeless. Jackson and I will be living in my car.”
She stared at the wide-eyed teen. “I didn’t think my life would be easy, especially after I lost Levi, but I thought it would be okay. That I’d work hard and save money and have a little happiness. Then I met your dad and he was so great. He took care of me and loved me and I was happy. Now it’s all gone.”
Summer reached for Allison’s hand. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring myself.” Allison pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I know I should say something comforting, but I don’t have anything left.”
“Don’t say that. We’ll figure this out.”
Allison patted her shoulder. “You’re sweet and very young. I know you care, but this isn’t your problem. You should go, Summer. You don’t have to take this on.”
“I want to help.”
“You can’t. It’s okay.” A lie, but what was she supposed to say? “You really should go.”
“I’m not leaving you.” Summer sounded determined. “There’s a solution. I know it.” She frowned. “Where’s Jackson?”
“At day care. I need to go get him.”
“You can’t drive right now.” She stood, then pulled Allison to her feet. “Wash your face, then put away the groceries, then sit.”
She crossed to where Allison had dropped her bag and fished out her car keys. “I’ll get Jackson. We’ll get takeout on the way home. We’ll have a nice evening and when Jackson goes to bed, we’ll talk.”
Honestly, Allison would rather be alone, but she didn’t know how to say that to the teen. And Summer was right—she shouldn’t drive right now.
“If you could pick him up, I’d appreciate it, but I can manage the rest.”
“Not happening.” Summer grabbed her backpack. “I’ll see you in about forty minutes.”
Allison forced a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “I’ll be here.” She paused, then walked over and hugged her stepdaughter. “Thank you. I know you worry. I wish I could fix that.”
Summer hung on. “You can’t. You’re my family, too. We’ll figure this out. I know we will.”
If only, Allison thought. If only.
“I need to circulate,” Erica said without a lot of energy.
Killion kept his hand on the small of her back. “I’d rather you stayed close.”
She smiled up at him. “I thought I was here on a reconnaissance mission. You know, discover the enemy’s weaknesses.”
“I don’t need you for that.” He paused. “Just to give me a sense of who they are.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
He grinned. “You’re sexy when you’re powerful.”
“I thought I was sexy all the time.”
“You know that’s true.” He lightly kissed her. “All right. Go forth and discover. I look forward to hearing your report.”
“Is that all you look forward to?” she asked, her voice bright with amusement.
He glanced around. “You know, we don’t have to stay.”
She laughed. “Yes, we do. Think of what we’re going to do later as your reward. It’s been on my mind all day.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“Good.”
She turned and studied the room. The cocktail party was in full swing, with nearly fifty people. Killion’s company was sponsoring the casual get-together with executives and their spouses from potential acquisitions. Technically the event was billed as a business networking opportunity, and she was sure most of those attending believed that. But Erica knew better. Killion believed that character was a big part of success. More than one deal had been scuttled because the president of the company was a jerk.
If the person in charge was a bad boss, growing the enterprise would be that much harder. Killion only bet on sure things.
At events like this, he liked her to talk to the executives without him around. It was a little game they played—one she enjoyed. Much information could be found in casual conversation. When she introduced herself, she offered no more than her name. If the other person didn’t bother to ask what she did, assumed she was simply the wife of someone more interesting, that was a black mark for them.
Should they find out she was the owner of Twisted, did they dismiss her because it was just “a salon”? Did they ask questions, listen to her answers? If she walked up to a group of men, did they engage or ignore her? Which married men tried to pick her up? She never approached a man alone, but that didn’t stop men from coming on to her. Less now that she was in her late forties, but enough to be both annoying and occasionally gratifying. She wasn’t looking for anything beyond what she had with Killion, but it was nice to be admired.
She approached a group of three women and two men. During a brief lull in conversation, Erica turned to one woman and said, “I love your earrings.”
She smiled. “Thank you. My daughter designed them.”
The gold hoops with offset diamonds glimmered in the light.
“She’s incredibly talented. Where does she sell her work?”
The woman named a local jewelry store, then held out her hand. “Bonnie Winter.”
“Erica Sawyer.”
The other people introduced themselves. One of the men asked where she worked.
“I own a company called Twisted. It’s a—”
“I know it,” another man said. “Salons, right? My wife loves the Bellevue location.” He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “I keep a gift certificate in my desk. If I mess up and she’s mad, it’s my go-to get-out-of-jail-free gift.”
One of the women laughed. “You’re a good husband.”
“I try. She’s amazing.”
Conversation shifted to sports. Erica excused herself to freshen her drink. As she walked to the bar, she made a mental note of the man’s name. He was a senior executive at a local tech firm. Killion would want to meet him. Not because he shopped at her salon, but because he was organized, willing to admit he was wrong and cared about someone other than himself.
“White wine,” she told the bartender, then took the glass.
The volume continued to climb. In an hour it would be loud enough that real conversation would be difficult. At that point, Killion would find her and they would leave.
Her gaze drifted across the crowd until she located him. He looked good, she thought. Not just handsome, but also at ease. He knew who he was and what he was capable of. He was the kind of man others instinctively looked to for leadership. Yet he didn’t dominate—not her or anyone else. He didn’t need to announce himself or draw attention, and she liked that.
He was so different from Peter, she thought. Peter had been funny and kind when they’d met. A little younger, a lot less experienced. She supposed she’d been attracted to his awe of her as much as his smile. After men telling her she was too driven, too determined, too everything, it had been nice to find someone who admired her.
She’d always known theirs wasn’t a level playing field. He’d been a junior accountant and she’d been a business owner planning to acquire an empire. She bought the house on her own. After the wedding, he’d moved in. She’d always meant to put him on the deed, but somehow never had, so the house was never community property. He’d come into the marriage with no real material assets and had left with little more beyond half their joint bank accounts. She’d signed off on her half of his business—because that had been considered community property. In return he’d released his share of her retirement plan.
Once she’d pulled her account from his business, he’d been struggling. Of course after finding out about the money he’d stolen, she had no reason to feel guilty. But sometime after the divorce, he’d changed.
She shook off the past and told herself to focus on the party. She glanced around, searching for another group to join, when she felt her phone buzzing in her small clutch. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
We’re both okay physically but Summer is nearly hysterical about Allison and I can’t calm her down. Can you come home early?
Erica walked quickly to the foyer, where it was quieter, and called her mother.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. She’s not making any sense. Something about Allison and the baby and a paycheck. She won’t stop crying. Summer can be moody, but I’ve never seen her like this. I’m worried.”
Considering Mara was basically unflappable, her concern wasn’t happy news.
“Let me tell Killion goodbye, then I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. I wouldn’t normally bother you, but under the circumstances...”
“You did the right thing. Tell Summer I’m on my way.”
She hung up and turned to find Killion, only to see him walking toward her.
“Something happened,” he said when he was in front of her. “I saw it on your face when you looked at your phone.”
“Later we’ll discuss your ability to read me from a distance. Summer’s upset. My mother described her as almost hysterical, which isn’t like my daughter. She’s worried about Allison. They’re so close.”
He took her hand in his. “She loves you.”
“I know that.”
“She loves you,” he repeated, then tugged gently. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Because he’d driven her here, she didn’t have a car. “Stay. I’m fine. I’ll get an Uber.”
“I’m not sending you home with someone I don’t know. I have a car waiting here in case someone is too drunk to drive. He’ll take you.”
“Thank you. You’re being silly, but thank you.”
“Let me know what happens with Summer.”
“I will.”
Thirty minutes later, she was tipping the driver. She’d barely started toward the front walkway when Summer burst out of the house.
“Mom! Mom! You came home.”
Her daughter ran to her, arms outstretched. Tears streaked her face.
“It’s so bad. If you’d seen her. She was on the floor and I thought she’d lost the baby. They took her paycheck and she doesn’t have anywhere to live and we have to help. We have to!”
Erica put her arm around the teen. “Slow down. I don’t know what you’re saying. Who took Allison’s paycheck?”
“The bank. It was automatically deposited.”
Erica held in a groan. Of course. Most paychecks were, but with the accounts frozen, there was no way for Allison to get it out. She could cancel the automatic deposits going forward, but her current check was gone, at least in the short term.
“Her doctor is worried about her. Her blood pressure is too high and she’s not eating, so she’s not gaining weight.”
They went inside. Erica stepped out of her three-inch heels. Summer faced her. Her skin was blotchy, her eyes red. As she spoke, she squeezed her hands together.
“Plus the house. Allison can’t get an apartment. She can’t show enough income on her own. Dad’s in jail and she’s pregnant and she’s going to be homeless.” Tears dripped down her cheeks. “It was so awful.”
Erica agreed the situation was dire but where did Allison get off dumping all this on a sixteen-year-old? But before she could figure out what to say, Summer repeated, “We have to help.”
She knew there was no response possible beyond “We do and we will.”
“She’s my family, too.”
“I know.”
“I’ve been thinking and I’ve come up with a plan. Don’t be mad, Mom, but I want Allison and Jackson to move in with us.”