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To my surprise, I had three voicemails. The first was from my mother. “Audrey, they towed the car, and I can’t afford to get it. Call me. Please.”
The second was from Elena. “Dre, call me as soon as you get this. On my cell.”
I looked over at James, and he was still on his phone, listening intently to something. Blowing out a shaky breath, I called her back immediately. “Dre,” she said after it had barely started to ring.
“Hi, Elena,” I said nervously. She rarely, if ever, called us while we were on a job. “What’s up?”
“Your mother is what’s up,” she said. “She came by the office this afternoon. She said she knew you’d made big money recently and that she needed some of it.”
All the blood drained from my face. “Elena, I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It gets better. I told her that she was not welcome in our office. She smelled, Dre. She was butt-ass drunk in broad daylight, and she was belligerent. I proceeded to tell her that you were making your regular salary and that I didn’t know anything else, and then I asked her to leave.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“She went into the bathroom and stole a bunch of those mini hand soaps,” Elena said, sighing. “Then she left. But I have a bad feeling she’ll be back again tomorrow. Dre, I can’t have this sort of drama as**sociated with my business. I run a luxury company. I can’t have your alcoholic, bag-lady-looking mother coming in and yelling at me in front of clients.”
“I know,” I said. I could feel myself turning crimson red. My mother had been ruining things for me since I was a child. I was so ashamed of her. For years, I’d felt bad because of that shame. I’d always felt as if I should be spending my time trying to help her more, not being embarrassed by her.
But now I was a grown woman, and I’d been taking care of myself for a long time. And I’d also taken care of Tommy because she couldn’t—and she never had. I’d seen her ruin everything that she touched, take advantage of everyone who came into contact with her. And now she was threatening my livelihood, the livelihood that was keeping her son healthy and safe.
I didn’t feel bad anymore that I was ashamed of her. She was worthy of my shame.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said. “She won’t be coming back.”
“I need you to take care of this and still take care of our most prestigious client. Don’t let your personal problems get in the way, Dre.”
“I won’t,” I mumbled. “I promise.”
I hung up and nervously checked my third voicemail. It was from Reina, one of the clerks at New Horizons. “Hey Dre, just wanted to let you know that your mom stopped by this afternoon. I need to talk to you about your account. Give me a quick call when you have a second.”
We pulled up in front of the museum. James was still on the phone, talking lowly. I hopped out of the car and called her back immediately, a pit of dread forming in my stomach. “Hey, Reina. It’s Audrey Reynolds. Is something wrong?”
“You need to change Tommy’s account here, hon,” she said. “Your mother is listed as a responsible party for him, in addition to you. She came in today and demanded that we refund some of the money you prepaid on his account. I couldn’t do it, because the manager had already gone, but I wanted to give you a heads up.”
“She didn’t. Please tell me she didn’t do that,” I said, my stomach sinking. But it was true, and I knew it: that was just like my mother. She would take Tommy’s rent money for herself. She really was that low.
“Sorry, hon,” Reina said. “I just thought you’d want to know.”
I thanked her and hung up, my hands shaking.
And then I turned to find James, standing on the sidewalk next to me, a worried look on his face.
James
“What’s wrong?” I could tell that the phone call had made her upset.
“Nothing,” she said and shrugged. “Work stuff.”
I just looked at her for a beat. “I can tell you’re upset,” I said. “You can talk to me about it, you know.”
She nodded at me. “I know. Maybe after this.” She waved toward the museum entrance.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” I didn’t want to push her. She would tell me when she was ready, I hoped. I grabbed her hand and led her inside.
The Gardner Museum was gorgeous. It had an inner courtyard that looked like an English garden. I’d always loved it. As children, the Guatemalan nannies had been under strict orders to bring Todd and me here on a regular basis. We used to go back and forth between the Gardner and the Museum of Fine Arts, located a few blocks away. My mother thought it was important that we were cultured. So she left the instructions and went to lunch with her lady friends, and one nanny after another cultured us.
