Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

ROSE

J oe stood behind me in silence for several seconds.

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Betsy Simmons asked, her gaze rising to Joe.

I felt him stiffen behind me.

“Mother,” he said, his voice tight. “What are you doing here?”

She pressed her hand to her chest as a careful look of dismay spread across her face. “How can you ask me that? I’m your mother .” A diamond ring on her right hand glittered in the sunlight. Considering the FBI had confiscated all of the Simmons property after J.R. Simmons’ death, I was surprised to see she still owned something so expensive.

“Why are you here?” he repeated, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Well…” Her hand dropped to her side. “I heard you had a baby, and since you didn’t bother to let me know I’m a grandmother, I decided I had to come see him for myself.” She lifted her hand and reached for Hope. “And here he is.”

“Here she is,” Joe said, stepping in front of me and blocking his mother’s access to our daughter. “She’s your grand daughter . But now you’ve seen her. Mission accomplished. You can go.”

Something in me bristled at his tone, but I fought the urge to intervene. Joe had been to hell and back for most of his life. While his father had been the puppet master, his mother had never done anything to intervene. This was Joe’s mother, and I needed to follow his lead.

“Are you really not going to let me in?” she asked in genteel outrage. “After I came all this way?”

“No one asked you to come,” Joe said, “and didn’t you always teach us to never drop into someone’s home unexpected? You should have called first.”

“Joe,” his mother’s voice softened. “I know we parted on bad terms when I left?—”

“You mean how you called me every name in the book when the FBI showed up to confiscate everything we owned, and you took off and left me there to deal with it?” He tilted his head. “Seems like you disowned me, if I remember correctly.”

She sighed. “Tensions were high that day. We both said things I’m sure we regret.”

“No,” Joe said calmly. “I don’t have any regrets.”

Mrs. Simmons was quiet for a few seconds. “Well,” she said, her voice softer still. “I realize I’ve let time get away from me, and I’ll also admit, I let my pride get in the way. I’d like to think you did too.”

“Pride had nothing to do with me pretending that you no longer existed.” His voice sounded strained on the last two words, the only sign she was getting to him.

“Okay,” she said, her voice still soft. “Maybe it was only my pride. I should have reached out sooner, but we’ve let this go on far too long. We’re family. We need each other.”

“Family?” he asked with a bitter laugh. “Where were you when I buried your daughter ?”

She winced, but to my amazement, she didn’t show any signs of anger. “Mistakes were made.”

Joe laughed again. “Mistakes were made,” he mocked. “You think?”

I put my hand on Joe’s shoulder to let him know I was there supporting him. He wasn’t facing her alone.

Joe drew in a deep breath, then said, “I don’t have any money, Mother.”

Her body stiffened. “Who said I was here for money?”

I could see hurt washing over her face, but I reminded myself that his mother was the consummate actress who had let money rule her life. When she’d been kicked out of her house, she’d gone to live with her parents, and I hadn’t heard anything else about what had happened to her. But her parents were simple people who didn’t have money of their own, and Betsy had grown used to living in a large home with staff. It would be surprising if she wasn’t here for money.

“Joe,” she chastised gently as though he were being an unreasonable child. “Don’t be crass. I’m your mother . I’m here because I want to see you and meet my grandchild.” Then a hint of reprimand edged into her voice. “If you would have reached out to me first , then I wouldn’t be here unannounced.”

Joe’s shoulders rose and fell as his breathing hitched up.

She looked past Joe, and her steely eyes landed on me. “Rose, I would love a chance to get to know you and meet my granddaughter. If you’ll just let me in, I’m sure we can talk through these hurt feelings.”

I didn’t respond, because this was Joe’s decision, not mine. But I had to admit that part of me wanted to believe her. Did she know that Joe’s hurt feelings went far deeper than angry words spoken the last time they’d seen each other? That he still hurt from years of neglect and being constantly told that he wasn’t enough?

“Well?” she asked. “It’s rude to leave a person standing out on the porch in the cold, Joseph. I raised you better than that.”

Joe clenched his fists at his sides, the first hint of anger. “ You raised me? Roberta, the housekeeper , raised me. Not you and definitely not my father.”

A tight smile lifted her lips, and she clasped her hands at her waist. “Joe…”

“Mother, you of all people know rude ,” Joe said bluntly. “You were the queen of it, lording over your friends and icing out the ones who dared to stand up to you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And you can’t say you’re standing out in the cold. It’s sixty-five degrees outside.”

“But it’s raining,” she protested.

“You’re standing on a covered porch,” he said dryly.

Betsy pushed out a long sigh, then lifted her clasped hand up to her chest as though she was praying. “I will admit that mistakes were made,” she said, her voice breaking. “But it’s time to move past them, Joe. I want to have a relationship with you. I want to know my grandchild.”

“Mistakes were made,” Joe said in a flat tone. “But I’m curious what you think those mistakes are .”

His mother’s eyes widened slightly, and she drew a breath, hesitating.

“Yeah,” Joe said in disgust. “That’s what I thought. I don’t know why you’re here, and frankly, I don’t care. I don’t have any interest in seeing you, and you sure as hell aren’t coming anywhere near my daughter. So, go back to the rock you crawled out from under.” Then he slammed the door in her face.

He spun around to face me, his jaw clenched as his breath came in rapid bursts.

My heart ached for him. “Joe. Are you okay?”

He silently shook his head and stalked back over to the tree still lying on the floor.

I stepped over to the living room window and peered through the sheer curtains. Joe’s mother had descended the porch steps and was looking back at the house. She looked lost as she studied the house for a few moments, then she climbed into an older sedan. She backed up and headed back to the county road.

“Well…” Joe finally said, shoving the tree trunk into the tree stand. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what?” I asked, holding Hope close.

“You probably think I’m a terrible person for slamming the door in her face and not hearing her out.”

“I would never say that, Joe.”

“But you’re thinkin’ it.”

I shook my head, then walked over and sat on the floor next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No, Joe. You have every right to feel the way you feel.”

He leaned his head into my arm and closed his eyes. “Why do I think there’s a but in there?”

“There’s no but. Her showing up on our front porch out of the blue had to be a shock. You’ve told me how terrible she was to you after your father died, not to mention all the years before that. And don’t forget I met her when we were dating. She wasn’t exactly sweetness and light to me.”

He reached a hand up and covered mine with his own. “But you would give her a chance.”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Maybe. Maybe not. If my momma showed up at the door, would I give her the time of day? I’m not so sure.”

“I would hope you wouldn’t give your mother the time of day, considering she’s been dead for two years and she’d be a zombie,” he teased.

“True,” I said with a soft grin. “But even if she weren’t a zombie, I’m not sure what I’d do.”

“I do,” he said, sounding defeated. “You would have let her in.”

Would I? I considered it a moment. “The last words I spoke to my mother were said in anger,” I said. “I don’t regret them because they were a long time comin’. But if she showed up, I’m not so sure I’d let her in. Not without letting her know I was a different person now, and she couldn’t treat me the way she used to when she was alive, or I’d kick her out.”

“See? You’d see her, you’d just lay ground rules first.”

I hesitated. “I suppose I would see her, but only because I’m a different person now. I think I’d need to prove to myself that she can’t hurt me anymore.” I squeezed his shoulder. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Joe. If you never want to see her again, then that’s okay. No one can fault you for that.”

His voice broke. “She didn’t even come to Kate’s memorial service.”

While his sister had always been a wild card and had done many unscrupulous things, she’d gone off the deep end when she’d kidnapped Hope, plotted to kill me, then planned to give my baby to Neely Kate. Kate had been killed in the end, and while Joe had hated the things she’d done, he’d blamed his parents for screwing her up.

When Betsy hadn’t claimed Kate’s body, Joe held a private service for her. He’d sent word through his grandparents with details about the service, but neither they nor Betsy had come. There had only been three people at the service—Joe, Neely Kate, and Jed (I couldn’t bring myself to go), and Betsy’s absence had hurt Joe more than he’d let on, even if Neely Kate had been relieved.

“I know,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Nothin’ about this is easy. I don’t blame you for sending your mom away, and if you never speak to her again, I’ll stand by that decision.” I hesitated. “If I’m honest, I’m not sure I want her around Hope and the kids, but I’ll respect your wishes no matter what you decide.”

He turned to face me, still kneeling and holding his hand over mine on his shoulder. “I love you, Rose.”

I leaned over and kissed him, holding Hope to my chest. “I love you too.”