Chapter 31

The drive back to New York had seemed even longer than I remembered. By the time I got in town, my mom had taken Billie home. She was sporting a splint on her wrist that she was already tired of wearing.

The penthouse still looked the same. I don't know why I thought it would look different. Maybe because it seemed like so much had changed over the past two months that I expected everyone and everything else to have changed, too. But it was the same architectural marvel filled with expensive uncomfortable furniture and decorated with the anemic color scheme my mom loved. I called it the everything beige special.

"I'm bored. There's nothing to do here." Billie had been especially whiny since Mom left to pick up ice cream.

Not that I blamed her. It had to stink to be escorted to the hospital by camp counselors in front of her friends. Did they even have camp counselors at this bougie camp? I wasn't sure. They probably didn't call them that anyway. I'm sure they were activity specialists or leisure facilitators.

Give me s'mores and campfire tales any day.

"I'm just glad you're okay, kid."

"I'm not okay. I'm so bored."

She slumped over in bed, her face twisted in mock agony. Apparently boredom was a fate worse than death for a nine year old. Geez, and people thought teenagers were dramatic.

"You're supposed to be bored. That's what taking it easy means. Being nice and calm and not moving your wrist. Luckily it was just a sprain."

She pouted. "I liked parkour. Now I'm going to miss everything."

"I still can't believe they were letting you all do that. Aren't they supposed to be supervising so you don't get hurt? Unless you were doing something you weren't supposed to be doing?"

Suddenly Billie wouldn't meet my eyes. "Where's Meatball? I want to meet him."

"I wasn't sure what was going on so I left him with my friend. But you'll meet him soon."

I felt a literal pang at the thought of my little guy. Not that I needed to worry. He was probably living in Santana's lap being spoiled beyond belief.

"I can't wait. I don't really remember Gran Grace's house. What's it like there?"

"You were really young the last time we visited. It's this great big old Victorian with a cool attic room you can play in and a huge backyard."

"I wish I could have met her," she said.

Being angry at death was stupid and futile but it was infuriating that a heart attack could change the course of so many lives. Obviously I was devastated to lose the most important person in my life but it made me unspeakably sad to think of all the love Billie had missed out on just because she hadn't been born earlier.

"She would have absolutely loved you," I whispered.

Billie picked at a loose thread on her blanket. "I won't know anyone there."

"That's okay. My friend Tana knows everyone and she's going to host a party with all her family and friends so we can meet some new people. A lot of them have kids around your age."

"Do you think they'll like me?" she asked in a small voice.

"They're going to love you. How many kids there can claim a battle wound from jumping off a roof?"

She giggled. "It wasn't a roof. It was just a fence."

"Either way it's way more adventurous than anything I've done. I trip over my own feet."

She was quiet again. Billie could be like that. She was so strong and assertive but had these unexpected moments of uncertainty that always hit me right in the gut.

"What's the matter? I know this is all a lot to take in."

Billie sighed. "I miss my dad."

I closed my eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."

She sniffed. "Mom said that he's out on bail and he's going to come see me soon. But that there were some people yelling outside so they decided it was better for him to stay away."

"Since you're home from camp early, I'm sure you'll see him a lot. They're just being careful." I definitely didn't know how to talk to her about the protestors. Alan had mentioned it but it hadn't really sunk in that it meant my sister was seeing people with picket signs calling her father the devil. My heart hurt for her.

Her eyes were bright with tears. "My summer independent project was going to be about the Axolotl. He was helping me. He even got me a shirt that said ‘You Axolotl Questions'. It was so corny."

She leaned into my shoulder and I pulled her into a hug. She was so mature for her age that sometimes it was easy to forget that she was just a kid.

"And if we move, I'm going to miss my friends. My friend Keri signed up for French classes next year so we can take it together. I was going to tutor her."

"Nothing about this is fair, I know."

After a long sigh, she wiped her eyes. "I just don't understand how we're going to live in Gran's house when Mom said that we might be living on a yacht next year. That we could travel around the world."

"She said what? Who has a yacht?"

Billie shrugged. "I don't know. But she seemed really excited about it. You know how she gets."

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. My mother loved the idea of an adventure and usually didn't stop to ask whether it was really the best thing long term.

Or the best thing for a child.

Or best for anyone other than herself.

"I know exactly how she can get." I patted Billie's hand before leaving to get her another ice pack.

When Mom came back with the ice cream, I took the opportunity to retreat to the guest room. Billie had been through enough and didn't need to see us fight.

I decided to bide my time and really think through what I wanted to say. But if my mother was doing what I suspected then we needed to have a serious talk.

Because after living through her idea of an adventure before, I wasn't going to let her do that to my little sister.

* * *

It was after midnight before my mom was able to coax Billie to sleep. When she came back downstairs, I was sitting at the kitchen counter waiting.

"Honey, I didn't know you were still up. You must be tired after driving straight here."

She pulled a bottle of wine from the custom rack built into the cabinetry. Exhaustion was all over her face making the lines around her eyes, the ones I knew she hated, stand out in stark relief against the honey hue of her skin.

It was hard to stare at a face so similar to my own and realize I didn't know the person beneath.

"I wanted to talk to you."

She poured herself a glass of wine before holding it up, asking if I wanted some. I shook my head.

"Billie is going to be fine, honey. The doctor said it was just a sprain. The silly girl was already asking if she could go back to camp to see her friends!"

"I know. She'll be fine for now but what about next month? She mentioned something about a yacht? What is going on? I thought you guys were getting ready to move to Violet Ridge with me?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "We are, baby. But that's just a temporary fix. We can't stay there forever."

"Why not? I've worked so hard fixing the house up. It's a safe town. The perfect place for Billie to grow up."

"Oh Charlie." The words sounded like a weight. "With this lawsuit going on, I thought it might be wise to get away for a bit. I assume you heard about the protestors."

"Yeah Billie told me. But that doesn't mean you can just sail away and never look back. Billie needs to be in school."

"It wouldn't be forever. I have a friend who has this amazing place in Greece. She invited us to stay while all these protests are going on."

Understanding dawned. "This is why the Delacourts are suing, isn't it? They found out you're trying to take Billie out of the country."

She looked uncomfortable but didn't deny it. "We're going on vacation. All of this has gotten blown way out of proportion."

"A vacation that is going to take Billie away from her school and her friends. Did you think about that part?"

She waved that away. "She makes friends so easily. She'll be fine."

"Like I was fine? I wasn't fine, Mom. I've missed the friends I left behind every day since. Friends aren't interchangeable."

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I know I wasn't the perfect mother. I never thought I was."

"I didn't need you to be perfect. I just needed you to think about what I needed. You know, I really thought you'd changed but you still don't get it and now I have to watch you do the same thing to Billie. Did you ever intend to stay in Violet Ridge at all? Or was that a lie from the very beginning?"

She crossed her arms. "Watch your tone young lady. I am still your mother."

"Were you ever planning to stay?" I repeated.

"I figured we would stay there until you sold the house. Then we could come back to New York. Back home."

"This is not home. Violet Ridge is home. You were born there!"

"And left as soon as I could. I've never understood your attachment to the place. You only lived there for a few years and that was only because Mom wouldn't stop bugging me about it."

"Gran Grace did that for me. To protect me. I didn't want to live in the city, moving from apartment to apartment. How many new schools did I go to? How many friends did I have to leave behind before I figured out that there was no point making them?"

Mom threw up her hands. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry for wanting more for you than a small life in that backwoods town! I wanted you to have the choices I didn't have. I didn't want you to have to settle. I wanted you to have adventures."

"I want the small town life. That's my adventure."

I stood up. I needed to get away before I said something I couldn't take back. My bag was resting against the side of the couch. I'd dropped it there when I first came in. I walked over and picked it up.

"Where are you going?" Mom asked.

"To my apartment. While I'm here I'm going to clean it out and box up the things I want to bring back with me."

She sighed. "Okay. What should I tell Billie? I'm sure she'll be asking for you in the morning."

"Tell her I'll be back for breakfast. I'm not leaving. I wouldn't do that to her." I paused at the front door with my hand on the doorknob.

"Please just think about what's best for Billie before you make any decisions. Because I know what it's like to be uprooted and I'm not going to let you do that to her."

* * *

The walls felt like they were closing in on me as I made my way to my apartment, which was only a few floors down. Christian owned all the apartments on that floor and most were used as corporate housing for visiting executives.

When I got off the elevator, I pulled out my keys and found the right one. My hands shook as I inserted the key, feeling the familiar click of the lock disengaging.

The moment I stepped inside, memories flooded my mind. Working late on accounts for a boss that wouldn't notice my hard work anyway. Countless nights sitting on the couch watching TV while Aaron was on his phone. Walking in on him packing. As I looked around, it all felt so foreign, like I was trespassing in someone else"s life.

My phone vibrated and I pulled it out. Hopefully it wasn't my mom asking me to come back tonight. I thought it was best for us to have some space before we spoke again.

Retta

I got your message. How is Billie?

Charlie

She's fine. The crazy girl was already bored and asking for ice cream.

Retta

That's great. I'm so glad she's okay. How are YOU?

Charlie

Currently staring at all the stuff I need to clean out of this apartment.

Retta

I'm coming over. I'll bring wine and we can burn Aaron's shit together.

Charlie

You're the best.

I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. With Retta there to help me, going through everything wouldn't be so bad. It was impossible to be depressed in her presence. Although I should probably try to clean up a little before she got there.

As I walked back up front, it was obvious that Aaron had come back while I was gone at least once. The throw blanket that was usually carefully placed on the back of the couch was haphazardly thrown on the floor. There were a few dishes in the sink and there was a sour smell coming from the trash can.

He couldn't even be bothered to clean up his mess before he left. Typical.

As I loaded the dishwasher, I looked around the beautiful, state of the art kitchen. Everything was brand new and high-end. Then I thought of my ancient kitchen at Gran Grace's with the scarred oak cabinets and the uneven counters. It might be old but everything in that house was attached to a memory. I didn't have any memories attached to this gorgeously cold apartment.

And I had never felt at home here.

The doorbell rang, and I raced over to answer it. When I swung the door open, Retta stood there, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Let"s get this party started!" She was armed with bottles of wine, a box of chocolates, and a huge tote bag.

I gave her a hug before stepping aside to let her pass. "I can"t tell you how glad I am to see you."

"Same here, girl," Retta replied, bustling into the living room and depositing her load on the coffee table.

While she uncorked one of the wine bottles, I brought over glasses. She poured both of us generous glasses before settling in on the couch.

"Alright. We might as well get to the good stuff right away. What's going on with your hot handyman."

It didn't take much for me to spill the whole tale. Retta listened attentively, nodding at all the right places and asking questions. But as I spoke, I could tell she was holding something back.

"Retta," I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you aren't saying?"

"Who me?" she asked innocently, taking another sip of her wine. "I"m just listening."

"No," I insisted, setting my glass down on the table. "There"s something you want to say, I can tell. So just say it."

"Fine," she sighed, relenting. "But promise you won"t get mad, okay?"

"There really is something? Tell me!" I demanded.

"Alright, alright," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "I was just going to say that I can see why Rix might have done what he did. He"s used to you leaving. And let's face it, you're not the best at keeping in touch."

Her words stung, but I knew she was right. I had a habit of putting things out of my mind that I didn't want to deal with. Not running away, exactly, but avoidance for sure.

"I don't mean to."

She reached over and squeezed my hand. "I know. You've been hurt so many times that it probably seemed easier to just forget people instead of having to miss them. I get it. But maybe he doesn't?"

I stared into my half-empty wine glass. Retta watched me nervously.

"Hey," she said softly, reaching for my hand. "Don"t listen to me, okay? You"ve got enough on your plate with your mom and sister."

But I couldn"t shake what she"d said. All my life, I"d been trying to make everyone else happy—my mom, my sister, even Aaron. And yet, it had never seemed like enough.

"Ever since Christian got arrested, I feel like I've been running in circles trying to make things okay for us."

Retta sighed. "Maybe it's not your job to make everything okay."

"If I don't try, who will? I've been trying so hard to keep Billie from being uprooted the way I was. And now it might all have been for nothing."

"Sweetie, Billie was going to be uprooted no matter what. Even if she'd moved to Violet Ridge with you."

I blinked as that sank in. Billie had told me herself how much she was going to miss her friends and the classes she'd signed up for next year. This whole time I had been operating under the assumption that I was saving her but the truth was that I was uprooting her, too. Fighting for her should mean helping her get to stay where she wanted to be. Violet Ridge was my home but it wasn't hers.

"I'm doing the same thing to her that my mom did to me. How did I miss that?" I rested my head against the back of the couch.

Retta looked sympathetic. "You were doing the best you could. I don't think there's a handbook for when your sister's father gets arrested for fraud."

I snorted a laugh at that. "No. There isn't." I glanced over at Retta. "It's going to get worse before it gets better, isn't it?"

"Probably." She refilled our glasses, emptying out the bottle. "Hey, how long are you going to be here?"

I looked around the room. "Well, I need to box up everything I want to keep. So probably a few days at least. Why?"

"Because I don't have another temp job lined up until the end of the week. I'm living with my mother and she's driving me crazy. So how about I stay with you and help you get this place cleaned out?"

"Really?"

"Absolutely." Retta nodded. "And tomorrow morning, we"ll throw all Aaron's shit in the trash."

"Deal." We clinked our glasses. "Although throwing everything out might be a little cold-blooded."

"Fine, we"ll recycle," Retta amended, rolling her eyes.