Chapter Thirty-Three #2
If Adam thought it was weird adults cried when they were happy, he'd be shocked as hell to grow up and discover we felt all sorts of things that made no sense. Grief at what wasn't lost. Guilt where there was no fault. The human heart knows no logic, no matter how we might wish it would.
My mother stood, keeping an arm around Adam's shoulder. Her assessing stare landed square on Knox. Not waiting for me to jump in, he dealt with her the same way he had my father.
“Knox Sinclair. I'm with Lily.” As if that were explanation enough. For now, it would have to be.
Holding her counsel, my mother gave a brisk nod. “I see.” Dismissing us, she reached for Adam's hand. “Was it a long drive? Do you need the bathroom and a snack?”
As always, mention of the bathroom reminded Adam of his bladder. Dancing from foot to foot, he nodded. “It was so long. We were in the car forever. After Mr. Knox hit Deputy Dave, we had to leave and—”
“Why don't I show you the bathroom and get you something to eat?” she interrupted with an arch look at Knox and me.
“K. Is this where my Mom lived?”
Knox slipped his arm around my waist as we followed them down the hall to the kitchen. “He threw us right under the bus, didn't he?” Knox said, amused.
“Little booger.” I couldn't even be mad. He was five. Seeing Knox hit Dave had been the height of excitement in his short life. His hero, taking out the bad guy. Of course, he'd told my Mom. He probably would have told the gas station attendant if there'd been one.
Adam was already in the powder room when we reached the kitchen. My mother's cool eyes didn't miss Knox's arm around my waist.
“Tea? I have a new blend. Does Adam like apples and peanut butter? We can take it outside so he can run around in the yard.”
“No tea for me, Mrs. Adams,” Knox said.
“I'll take some. Adam loves apples and peanut butter. And the yard would be great.”
My Mom's tea blends were hit and miss. Some were heavy with fruit and flowers, ambrosia whether hot or iced. Some tasted like the rich garden soil she loved so much. I was hoping for fruit and flowers instead of dirt, but I'd drink it either way.
With a glance down the hall at the closed bathroom door, my mother asked quickly, “What happened to Trey?”
Knowing we didn't have much time, I said, “He died. Almost a year ago.”
“And the deputy?” This question she aimed at Knox.
“Trey left Lily some trouble. I work in security. I came up to help.”
“And stayed?” she asked archly. Knox gave a single nod of his head, holding her eyes with his. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her. “Are they safe? My daughter and my grandson?”
“For now,” Knox said. “We can only stay the night, and then I’m going to move them somewhere secure until my brothers and I can clean up Trey’s mess.”
For the first time, raw emotion broke through my mother’s controlled expression. “Only one night? You just got here.”
“We’ll come back,” I cut in, “as soon as it’s safe to stay longer. This is the last place anyone would look, but—”
“What the hell did that bastard do?” she asked, aiming the question at Knox.
“You don't want to know, and I can't tell you. Lily and Adam are almost clear of him. It won't be much longer before this is over.”
I hoped Knox was telling the truth. With Tsepov missing and Dave to deal with, I wasn't sure it would be that easy.
Down the hall, the rush of a toilet flushing interrupted. A second later I caught the sound of water running into the sink. Grownup time was over. Knox met my eyes and cocked a brow. I knew what he was asking, and I nodded.
“I need to check the house, secure the property while we're here, just in case. That okay with you, Mrs. Adams?”
“Of course. Do what you have to do. My husband should be in his office upstairs. He can show you around.”
Knox disappeared as Adam came back into the room. My mother loaded glasses of iced tea and Adam's snack on a tray. We followed her out the back door to the seating area on the porch overlooking the yard.
Adam went straight for the sliced apples and peanut butter, gobbling them down as if he hadn't eaten in days. I took a glass of iced tea from the tray, the scent of melon and strawberries drifting to my nose. My mother sat beside me on the wicker loveseat.
Quietly, so Adam couldn't hear, she murmured, “You named him after us. Adam.”
So much to say that I couldn't. Not with my son sitting right there. I settled for, “I never got your letters. Not until yesterday. He hid them.”
My mother drew in a shocked breath. “You never got my letters? Any of them?”
“No.”
“And that letter. You didn't write it.”
“I didn't know. I didn't think you wanted me to write. Whatever that letter said, it wasn't from me.”
Her face fell, grey eyes clouded. “Oh, Lily. We should have come up there. We should have known.”
“I don't know how you could. I didn't know how bad it would be.”
Adam shoved the last apple slice into his mouth and stared down at the yard with longing. “Mom, can I?”
“Sure. Stay inside the fence.”
“There's a swing on one of the trees, Adam,” my mother cut in.
“You still have that old swing by your studio?”
“Your father has some colleagues with young children. He keeps it up so they have something to play with.”
Adam ran to the swing I'd loved as a child, and my heart squeezed, torn between joy that he'd share one of my favorite memories and pain at how much I'd lost. My parents had a whole life I knew nothing about. Friends, their children, so much day to day that I'd missed.
“How bad was it?” my mother asked as soon as Adam was out of earshot.