Chapter 29
Tucker
“You’re shitting me.” I turn from where I stand in the kitchen, eyes finding Ruth and Birdie playing in the corner of the great room, just out of earshot.
“I shit you not.” Heidi’s voice carries a smile. “I think you’ve got something to work with here.”
Relief like I’ve never felt has me leaning against the counter for support. “Thank fuck.”
After struggling to find information on the dead Dans, I wasn’t hopeful Heidi would have any better luck digging up dirt on William.
I worried I’d have to send Ruth and Birdie to Maryland with no safety net in place.
But, thanks to Heidi’s investigative skills, I’ve at least got a shot at making sure William never bothers her again.
As long as I can convince a few other people it’s worth the risk to take him on.
The biggest problem is, I don't know how convincing I will be. I can be charming, and historically women have tended to like me, but this is a very different situation. I’m not meeting one in a bar and taking her home, something I’ve never actually had to convince someone to do.
This is about persuading a woman to put her potential safety—and the safety of her child—on the line.
Ruth would be great at it, but I don't want to get her hopes up.
Especially if this doesn't pan out the way I’m hoping it will.
There is one other person I think is capable of doing what needs to be done.
Unfortunately, bringing them into the mix is going to undo everything Ruth and I worked so hard to accomplish.
But I don't see any other way. This has to be done.
And if I end up with my ass in a vice because of it, then at least I’m the one suffering and not Ruth.
After hanging up with Heidi, I go to where Ruth and Birdie are happily playing with the pile of toys I've continued to accumulate during their time here with me. Crouching down, I spend a minute pretending to be a cow in Birdie’s plastic barnyard before passing that responsibility off to Ruth.
“Will you two be okay for a few minutes while I run to my parents’ house?” I try to sound normal. The last thing I need is Ruth suspecting I’m up to something.
Her brows pinch together in concern, proving I failed. "Is everything okay?"
I won’t lie to her, but I also can't give her the outright truth.
"I just need to touch base with my mom about a project she's working on.
" Not a lie. Technically, my mom will be working on this project, she just doesn’t know it yet.
But there's not a doubt in my mind that when she hears what's going on, Deidre Bradshaw will absolutely do whatever she can to keep Ruth and Birdie safe.
Ruth seems to relax a little at that, giving me a tiny hint of a smile. "We’ll be fine."
After kissing both her and Birdie on the forehead, I hustle to my side-by-side, driving straight for my parents’ place. I find my mom in the kitchen, working on a new recipe for the fall issue of her magazine.
She greets me with a bright smile, hands shoved in oven mitts as she pulls a tray of tiny, individual loaves from her oven. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you?"
"Not bad." I settle onto one of the stools lined down the island, glad I’m at least going to get a snack out of this.
"But I have a feeling that's not going to last long.
" There's no reason to beat around the bush or mince words.
I don't want to spend a lot of time away from Ruth and Birdie since the clock is ticking down to Maryland, so I go straight into what brings me here. "Ruth and I aren’t really a couple."
My mother pauses pulling the tiny loaf pans from the baking sheet and lining them onto a cooling rack. She doesn’t say anything, just angles a brow at me.
There’s no ranting or crying, which I'm going to take as a good sign, so I keep going. "I didn't want you trying to fix me up with anybody, so I paid her to pretend to be my girlfriend."
My mother stares at me a second longer before going back to what she's doing, lining a mushy looking loaf into place. "Interesting."
She’s still not ranting or crying. Still a good sign. Still gonna keep going. "Ruth is planning to move to Maryland next weekend for a job opportunity." I take a deep breath before laying out the reason for my confession. "And to get away from Birdie's dad."
My mother nods, making a humming noise that still isn't ranting or crying.
So I tell her everything. How Ruth showed up on my doorstep.
How she ended up in my house. How she’s got no one but me.
I held back with Walker, but I can't hold back with my mother. Not if I want her help. And I don’t just want her help, I need it.
Because Deidre Bradshaw will be so much more convincing than some random guy with good hair and commitment issues. No matter how good-looking I am.
I finish explaining Ruth’s presence as my mother attempts to de-pan her bread. It's not going well. The structural integrity of each loaf is lacking greatly, and they essentially crumble the second they’re released.
She frowns down at the project as she says, "I was wondering how you talked her into it."
I want to be surprised. I convinced myself I could genuinely trick my mother. But no one can fool Deidre Bradshaw. She's like some sort of all-knowing entity. Which is really inconvenient when you're a teenager.
"Well, now you know." I brace myself before admitting why I’m here. "And I need your help keeping Ruth and Birdie safe from him."
I tell her about the three women Heidi found.
Women who, just like Ruth, were manipulated by William.
Women who made the same choice Ruth did, putting themselves directly in his narcissistic, selfish crosshairs.
Each one of them has a bull's-eye on their back, and I'm hoping—like Ruth—they’re willing to do whatever it takes to protect their children.
"And you want me to convince them to take him on." It’s not a question. Because again, all-knowing deity.
I slowly nod, hoping she’s willing to help me protect not only Ruth and Birdie, but three more innocent kids and their mothers. "I figure if anyone has a shot of getting them to take this risk, it's you."
My mother sighs, abandoning her failed experiment. "Does Ruth know about this plan?"
I shake my head. "Not yet. I don't want to get her hopes up until I know more."
My mother tips her head, and for a second, I think she's going to argue with me. Tell me I have to confess everything to Ruth, and let her make the decision on how to proceed.
But she doesn't. Instead she looks at me pointedly and says, "That's probably for the best. Fear can make a person hold back. Even on things that could change their life for the better."
I can only stare back, because yet again, I’ve underestimated my mother’s ability to know everything, all the time.
“What happened to Kara was a one in a million thing, you know that right?” Her voice is soft, but the words still hit me like lightning, searing my skin and melting my flesh. Thinking about her hurts just as much now as it did back then.
“It still happened. And it could happen again.” My voice is ragged. Filled with an overwhelming amount of emotion.
Old and new.
Because in spite of my best efforts, I’ve accidentally put myself in the place I swore I’d never be. A place where I have something to lose. And my dumb ass couldn’t just stop at one thing. I had to go and find two.
"Do you think Titus would have chosen not to love Kara if he knew how it would end?" My mom barely gives me a second to breathe before asking a second question. One that levels me. "Would you have chosen not to love Kara if you knew how it would end?"
Kara’s death has shaped my entire adult existence. It dictated what I’ve allowed and what I didn't. And while I have considered how my life would look if she hadn't died, I've never thought about how it might look if she’d never been a part of it at all.
Would I rather have never known her? The easy answer is yes. It would have saved me the pain I've chosen to carry. But it's not the right answer. Especially when I widen the lens I'm seeing it through.
Because at some point, I'm going to ask myself the same question about Ruth and Birdie. Them moving to Maryland will gut me, but I can't fathom never knowing them at all. Even if I could go back and change everything, I would still have her standing on my porch that morning.
And I still would rather have been the scrawny teenage boy who adored his brother’s girlfriend. The kid who was excited to be an uncle even before he graduated high school.
I shake my head. "I wouldn't undo any of it."
My mother smiles. "That's because love is worth having even when you know one day the things you love won't be where you are."
Her description of loss being nothing more than a simple change in location makes it a little easier to stomach. Especially when that’s exactly what I'm facing.
"You should talk to Tobias." I think my mother is changing the subject until she follows up with, "He's been talking to a nice man named Bert for a number of years now. He helped him work through some emotions that were too big for him to handle on his own."
"Toby is seeing a therapist?" It's surprising, but also not. My older brother really was able to jump in with both feet when Brooke came back. There was no fear. No hesitation. He knew exactly how he felt and how to support her best.
"So is Titus." My mother tips her head. "I wish he'd been ready to take that step a long time ago." She sighs. "But that's not something you can make someone do.” Her eyes fuse to my face. “They have to want it for themselves. Otherwise, it's pointless."
A year ago, I would've scoffed at my mother's suggestion for that very reason. The prospect of tackling my demons was so overwhelming I wouldn't have even considered it.
But now...
Now they're coming for me whether I like it or not. I might as well get some lessons on how to keep them in line. Plus, I have a feeling I might add a few more to the bunch when Ruth and Birdie move to Maryland.
As if she can read my mind—not as surprising as it would have been fifteen minutes ago—my mother asks, "Are you sure Ruth really wants to move to Maryland?"
No, I’m not. But this move isn't really about what she wants.
It's about what some asshole has essentially made her do.
And as much as I want to beg her to stay here—stay with me—I won't be the next asshole telling her to do what he wants.
That's not fair. All I can do is make it possible for her to come back if that's what she chooses to do.
"Ruth has worked hard to make this move possible. She has to go."
My mother has a sad smile on her face as she says, "I understand that. Sometimes it's important—especially as women—to prove to ourselves we can stand on our own two feet."
I snort, because that sounds so bizarre coming from my mother. "I think you've got that covered."
"I haven’t always." Once again, my mother proceeds to shock the shit out of me.
"When Titus and Trevor were little, I woke up one day and realized that if something happened to your dad, I was screwed. I was a stay-at-home mother with very little job experience. I had no credit history. No retirement account. I was putting all my trust in not only his continued love for me, but also his continued existence. I was terrified of what would happen if either of those things suddenly ended, so I decided to start a little catering business. That way I would have something to fall back on. I would be okay no matter what happened. Be able to take care of myself and my children if I ever needed to.” She meets my gaze.
“After so much uncertainty in her life, Ruth probably needs that too.”
I’ve always known Ruth was leaving. That she had to go. But I didn’t comprehend the full reason why. I was so focused on all the ways I could help her, I overlooked a need we all carry.
The need to know we can take care of ourselves.
“And look how it worked out for you.” I tip my head at her bumbled breads. “You’re the queen of homemaking.”
She pokes at one pile. “That wasn’t the goal.” Her eyes lift to me, carrying a spark. “And sometimes, that’s how it works out. The plan we have is just what gets us started down the right path.”
I came here to ask for help, and I sure fucking got it. More than I bargained for.
And half of it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was absolutely what I needed to hear.
I stand from my seat, itching to get home. “I’m just worried the plan and I have two different ideas about which path is the right one.”
My mother gives me a smile. “You’ll figure it out.” Her gaze drops to the mess crumbled across her cooling rack. “Probably before I figure out this recipe for bananas foster bread.”
I pause on my way to the door, tipping my head toward the soggy shapes. “Ruth has a recipe for that.”
My mom’s brows lift. “Really? I’ll have to get it from her sometime.”
“You better hurry and get it before she goes to Maryland.” The reminder has me inching toward the exit.
My mom’s lips curve in a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”