Chapter Twenty-One Hanna
Chapter Twenty-One
Hanna
Two hours. No response from Jeremy. No indication he’d even read my texts.
My anxiety hit the explosion point. To keep busy I’d run to the store and grabbed one of those self-installed alarm systems.
Years ago, at the insurance company’s insistence, I added security cameras for the doors to the café. I’d skipped the residence
part and needed to fix that.
I had a camera for the front door of the house and planned to aim another right at the mailbox to catch my secret postman
as he or she dropped off the next annoying envelope. Because there would be more. I could sense it.
The opened boxes littered the stairs up to the apartment.
Crumpled pages of instructions peeked out the top of the closest one.
The motion sensor setup lying at my feet remained untouched.
Forget about buying a video doorbell and trusting that to work.
If I was going to turn my house into a giant monitor I wasn’t going to half-ass it.
Go all-ass or no-ass. That might be my new mantra.
I picked up the instructions and stared at them. Again. The lines of print jumped around. I couldn’t concentrate or think
or, apparently, read.
“Hanna?”
I turned fast enough to slip off the step. I stood less than a foot in the air but the thud of my heels against the hard ground
vibrated through me.
“Stella?”
She stood there, looking cautious and unsure—two things she never was—holding a bottle of wine in a death grip. The potential
gift kept me from yelling.
I tried a softer touch despite the nerves firing and ricocheting around inside me. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might need some company.” She held up the bottle of wine and shook it.
“I’m thinking you don’t believe I have friends.” True, not many. Being a younger-than-average parent for so many years, always
out of sync with the priorities of my peers, and an unrepentant workaholic derailed fun activities like girls’ weekends and
dating.
I only missed one of those two things.
She smiled. “I wasn’t judging. I assumed you hadn’t filled anyone in on what happened in the lawyer’s office today.”
“I haven’t even been able to reach Jeremy.” The words slipped out, probably because they were the ones that kept spinning
in my head.
She winced. “Shit.”
Stella was a mother. She got it. “Understatement, but yeah.”
I stared at the bottle, then shifted to Stella’s expression. I expected a hint of I told you so or you deserve this but only saw concern. Desperation. Maybe a bit of hope. That was the only explanation for my next move. That or emotional
exhaustion.
I dropped the indecipherable instructions into the nearest box and picked the whole thing up. Handed another box to her. Installing
could wait. “One of the benefits of owning a café is pastries. If you want them, I have some upstairs. I don’t usually admit
this out loud, but I stockpile them.”
“Then I’m happy I came.”
We trudged up the steps, alarm system installation temporarily forgotten. I checked my cell three times before grabbing two
glasses and a plate of Daniela’s award-winning triple chocolate cookies.
I sat with Stella on the small sectional sofa I took four months to pick out and another two months to buy. I measured, then
remeasured to make sure the new furniture would fit the space. I looked at numerous options. Shopped in different stores.
Then I had to choose a color.
Jeremy joked that it would have been easier to use folding chairs, and he wasn’t wrong. No matter how well the café did I
hesitated about spending money and kept my emergency fund nice and fat instead.
I’d lived my entire life waiting for something to go wrong. That’s what happened when you operated without a safety net. My memories of my mom centered around her dropping me off before work and picking me up after. Our time together had been limited and not exactly filled with hugs and kisses.
She loved me and would have done anything for me, but she never viewed us as friends. Her job was to prepare me for life.
Unfortunately, she never thought to prepare me for her premature death.
I never knew my father. Not even his name. She’d described him as irresponsible and immature and insisted it was better he
never knew he had a daughter. That decision put the sole parenting burden on her. It also made me a target. School bullies
loved going after kids dealing with already difficult circumstances. Something about my being weak made other kids feel stronger.
Mom worked tirelessly as the person responsible for putting food on the table and keeping the lights on. She’d tolerated an
insufferable boss who thought pawing her and commenting on her tight ass was his right. When she died from ovarian cancer
the cretin showed up at the funeral, praising Mom’s work ethic. I slapped him in front of his wife and detailed how he liked
to chase my mom around her desk.
I liked to think my practical mother would have been proud of her eighteen-year-old daughter’s spunk.
I used what little money she left me to go to college . . . and then I messed that up. Not that Jeremy was a mistake. But
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that every part of being a mother had been a challenge.
I took another look at my phone. This boy had fifteen minutes to call back or I would get in my car and drive to school to find him. With my mom radar, I’d track him down in no time. Then we’d have a talk about the importance of returning my calls. Embarrassment be damned.
“I guess you want the details.” I would so I couldn’t blame Stella if she did. Her curiosity had to be in overdrive.
“I’m not your therapist or your confessor.” Stella poured an impressive amount of wine in each glass. “Consider this a sisterhood
thing.”
I took the glass and fought the urge to down it in one gulp. Not a great idea for someone who drank sparingly. “Really?”
“I actually hate that term, but you know what I mean.” Stella leaned back into the cushions in her perfectly tailored pantsuit.
Eggplant. I couldn’t come up with the right color for her outfit when I first saw it but settled on that. Only Stella could
pull off eggplant.
“Sometimes it’s easier to say things to people you’re not invested in.” She shrugged. “We share secrets and have what I’ll
affectionately call issues, but I saw your face in that room as the attorney talked. The way the light left your eyes.”
She nailed it. We weren’t friends but she knew things about me that few did. And after today’s hearing she must have fascinating
theories about my private life. Her ex hadn’t been wrong. Family meant family and that’s why I needed Jeremy to pick up his
damn cell.
“I never thought . . .” I let my head fall against the cushion behind me. “I had no idea what Xavier was planning.”
“As a member of the Tanner family tree, even tangentially, let me assure you that the entire clan possesses that trait. I’m
always expecting a zig, then they zag.”
Laughter bubbled up inside me. Blame the wine or the stress but for the first time since Xavier died the heavy weight crushing my chest lifted.
After a few seconds, the amusement died down and the pain seeped back in. “It’s as if Xavier hated the idea of slipping off
without landing a few more shots.”
“That’s exactly what happened.” Stella shook her head. “It’s going to take years for my mom to get over inheriting a dented
truck.”
My muscles relaxed and the last of the tension pounding through me eased. “That was the highlight of my day.”
Stella lifted her glass in a silent toast. “Mine, too.”
“Xavier should have left us out of his asset distribution. I don’t want any part of it. I certainly don’t want Jeremy connected
to him.”
Stella made a face. “Well, having his grandchild probably sealed your fate on that one.”
I froze. Of course she thought that. Grandchild.
“Sorry, not subtle enough?” Stella shrugged. “I can pretend not to put the pieces together. I’m not judging your romantic
choices, but I do get why Victoria was so dismissive of you.”
No, Stella didn’t get as much as she thought she did. But she would. She was a smart woman. She just needed a few more hints,
then the pieces would click together.
I sat up a little straighter. My fingers tightened on my glass. “I never slept with Patrick.”
I didn’t have to say more. Her eyes widened as the front door opened. She looked too lost in shock to notice.
“That’s not right, is it?” she asked.
My attention flipped to the door. To the very best part of me. Not at school. Not a safe distance away where I could explain in private and in detail every time I lied by omission and beg him to understand.
Jeremy. Here. Now.
My life imploded. “Stella, don’t.”
But she never acknowledged Jeremy or his entrance. She’d locked in on this juicy bit and wasn’t letting go. “Are you saying
Xavier is Jeremy’s dad?”
Out loud. Hanging right there. The words I dreaded.
“What?” Jeremy’s voice echoed across the room and smacked into me. The sound of him emotionally bleeding out on the floor.
The wine sloshed over the rim of my glass as I stood up. “Honey—”
“Xavier Tanner isn’t my dad.” Jeremy looked from Stella to me. “What the fuck, Mom? Tell her she’s wrong.”
I’d never wanted to lie so much in my life.