CHAPTER 45
harley
Your mother is… unimpressed with her new accommodations.”
I made a small sound, completely unsurprised by this development. The woman was never impressed with anything, but they’d learn that quickly at Peaceful Pines. It was a hard thing to miss when it was most of her personality.
“My mother’s unimpressed with most things, Ms. Fletcher,” I said into the phone.
Margaret Fletcher was the patient coordinator at the assisted living center, where my mother had been moved.
I’d known her health was declining for several years.
It was evident in her sudden withdrawal from her social circles and my life.
Instead of checking in on her as I should’ve, I used the distance to breathe a little. To pretend like things were okay.
However, when she fell and broke her hip, it became clear that something had to change.
She had spent most of the day lying on the floor just waiting for someone to find her.
After firing Clifford and the house staff, there was no one around to watch out for her.
She couldn’t stay in the house on her own anymore, but there was no way in hell I’d be moving her into our condo.
Thus, the decision was made to put her in an assisted living center.
“You’ll get used to her,” I continued. That was a lie. They’d just get accustomed to her abuse and learn how to navigate her demands—hopefully, they’d do a better job than I had.
“She wants to know when you’re coming to pick her up,” Margaret replied.
I sighed and set the shirt I was folding in my suitcase. It didn’t surprise me that she was expecting me to get her. Her protests since the start of this endeavor had been overtly loud and increasingly frustrating. Every time the phone rang, my heart rate spiked.
“Please remind her that this is a permanent decision made for her own well-being,” I told her, doing my best to sound diplomatic and calm about the whole thing.
Margaret didn’t need to know how anxious it made me.
She didn’t care. “And I will… come visit her when I can. I have to go take care of her house.”
Admittedly, I hadn’t spent any of the last six years in Wilde Bay.
I couldn’t bring myself to go back. I could only take so much of the heartbreak and memories tied to that town.
So, the idea of going back to clean up her home—my childhood home—just so I could sell it was stressful.
Visiting her on top of that? Yeah, I didn’t want to do that.
“I will,” she replied.
“Thank you, Ms. Fletcher.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Lowell, and thank you again for your generous donation,” she said. I made a sound, but that was it before hanging up. My generous donation was my way of apologizing to them for having to deal with my mother. I didn’t envy them at all.
“I don’t understand why you have to leave,” Vivienne snapped as she waltzed into my room.
Yes, we had separate rooms in our condo.
It was the only way I managed to survive this godforsaken marriage I’d agreed to.
She took the largest bedroom with its massive bathroom and walk-in closet, while I took a room on the complete opposite end of our condo to put as much distance between us as possible.
Four years ago, we got married, and that was that. She was on my arm at every business dinner and social function while maintaining a strong presence in the office where I worked. Her opinions were loud and manipulative, but I just dealt with them. This was what I’d signed up for.
It made everyone around us happy. Even if we couldn’t stand one another, they believed the happy facade we put on.
She was just like my mother and then some.
Her presence grated on my last nerve and made my anxiety go haywire.
In turn, I was too soft and too nice for her liking.
Where she preferred to use and discard people like they were nothing, I chose kindness and understanding whenever I could.
It led to fights often. Ones I let her win because I didn’t have the will to keep it up anymore.
I also pretended not to know that she was sleeping with her golf instructor at the country club.
Better him than me. We weren’t physical, something I was immensely grateful for.
My body shut down under basic contact with her—holding hands, a touch on the shoulder, and so on.
I could fake being okay with it by smiling.
I was practiced in those. I couldn’t imagine having to fake anything more with her.
“Just send a team in to fix it and be done with the place,” she said. “It’ll fetch a fortune on the market, and we can put that into buying a place in Paris.”
Ah, the Paris fight again. She wanted a house there, and I didn’t. It made no sense to have one there when everything we did was stateside. We had decided to compromise by putting the money I’d get for selling my mother’s house into buying whatever house Vivienne wanted in Paris.
“I haven’t been there in six years,” I reminded her as I went back to packing. “I can’t send someone in there without seeing it first. It’d be irresponsible.”
That… and I desperately needed the vacation from her.
“This is an inconvenient time for you to be leaving,” she replied. She grabbed a shirt out of my suitcase with a disgusted sound and refolded it. “I’ve shown you how to fold this damn thing more times than I can count. How dumb can you be?”
“If I remember correctly, they’re my clothes, not yours,” I told her. “As for the timing, I won’t be gone long.”
“Long enough that I have to deal with the surrogate.”
“She has a name.”
“I don’t care what her name is,” she snarled. “I care about the fact that you picked the one woman I didn’t want and went over my head to choose her.”
There was a quiet satisfaction in that. I didn’t want to have a child with Vivienne, but it was the logical course of action, considering the time we’d been together.
And everyone was expecting it. It was just time.
Thankfully, Vivienne wouldn’t be caught dead pregnant—and I couldn’t handle her pregnant—which meant surrogacy was the only option.
The agency she picked gave us a list of women available to be our surrogate.
Holly was the only one who stuck out to me.
She was younger than most, at barely twenty-two, and didn’t have her own kids like the others.
She’d had one child that she’d given up for adoption to a gay couple in Manhattan.
When I’d talked to them, they’d had nothing but wonderful things to say about Holly and the gift she’d given them.
That stuck out to me more than any other candidate.
“She’s going to ruin our child before it’s ever born. Just look at her!”
A ghost of a smile touched my lips, but I buried it quickly to make sure she didn’t notice. Holly was covered in tattoos, had colored hair, and had far too many piercings for Vivienne’s liking. I didn’t mind. I was drawn to her confidence in self-expression and kindness.
“You do realize that what she looks like will have no bearing on our child,” I replied.
“I don’t care about that.” Of course, she didn’t. “I care about how it looks to everyone else.”
“Well, I don’t.” Picking a surrogate was supposed to be about the person, not about the way others viewed her. “She’s not a showpony for you to show off to your friends. And you’ll treat her with respect while I’m gone. The transfer is scheduled—”
“I’m aware of the schedule,” Vivienne cut me off.
“—for four weeks from now,” I continued as if I hadn’t heard her.
I knew where Vivienne’s priorities were.
Holly would be a fast victim to that in my absence.
“Make sure you accompany her to all her tests, cover her medication costs and other expenses, and overall, be a pleasant and present human being for her, please. And after as well for the two-week wait.”
She drew in a deep breath, her lips pursing together because, even though I’d added a please in there for good measure, it was still an order, and she didn’t take orders from me. Ever.
“So help me, Lee,” she began, her tone dark, “if you aren’t back to handle all of this, you and I are going to have problems.”
We already had problems. So many problems.
“I will do my best,” I said. “But if my conversation with Sheriff Kramer was any indication of the condition my mother’s house is in, it might be a while.”
“Then tear the damn thing down!” Vivienne exclaimed. “It’s just a house!”
“And it makes more sense to fix the house than to just try to get rid of the property as is,” I replied. “I’m going, Vivienne. I’ll do my best to get back as quickly as possible.”
She let out a loud huff of anger as she stormed from the room. I didn’t call out or go after her—didn’t try to fix it. I had no desire to try to smooth things over with her. It wouldn’t work anyway. This was the endless cycle we were stuck in, and I was used to it by now.