"Pat, you cannot just walk into their home!" I hear and I roll my eyes and suddenly look to the stairs.
“I can and I will. She’s my granddaughter!” Patricia snaps back, and I huff as I stand and cross my arms over my chest.
“I couldn’t care less if she’s your granddaughter, you’re not seeing her!” I state, causing Miles’s parents to freeze at the anger in my voice.
Lick winces and apologizes, “I’m sorry, Clark. She heard Trick was still on a club run.”
“Look, I get the club disappointed you, I get they didn’t stand by you, but you can’t punish me by withholding my grandchild from me,” Patricia says softly, and I shake my head at the woman while Lick winces, knowing exactly why Miles never forced me to allow his parents to be on Willow's watch list.
“The club standing by my husband is not why you are not allowed near my daughter,” I inform her, and she frowns.
“I don’t understand,” she says.
“Pat–”
I cut Lick off, knowing he’s about to defend her, and state, “Miles doesn’t want you anywhere near her.”
The woman’s eyes widen while Lick drops his head. His defeat shows he struggles between loyalty to his wife and wanting to protect his own child from more hurt. Which just pisses me off.
“Clark sweetheart, she’s not well, and I don’t want her to have a flare-up,” he says softly, knowing getting pissy with me will give him no favors.
I notice the guilty look Patricia gets before she quickly hides it, and I narrow my eyes and ask, “And what pray tell, seems as you’ve just barged into my home while my daughter is upstairs playing, using the fact my husband, who will most likely disown you for this, is away, and explain what medical condition she has.”
Patricia flinches, and my jaw ticks.
She’s lied, even I can see it, but Lick can’t, and that has been his downfall.
“She is bipolar, sweetheart,” he tells me softly, but I shake my head.
“And the hospital told you this?” I confirm, “They gave you a diagnosis and groups that can help you care for her, to deal with the condition?”
He frowns and admits, “No, she told me when I picked her up after I explained I rented an apartment for her.”
Naïve fool.
I shake my head, disgusted, at the guilty-looking Patricia.
I may not be a nurse yet, but I’ve done a nurse’s job for years. Amber has let me take on more roles without the doctors. Including helping diagnose patients with conditions like bipolar disorder. She does not have that.
“You’re not bipolar,” I say, and Lick raises a brow at me as if to say, ‘and how would you know,’ but I don’t answer him. Instead, I keep my eyes on his wife.
“I was committed for six months,” Patricia chokes, and I shake my head.
“That doesn’t mean you are bipolar, and you know it. You heard the word 'apartment' because Lick wanted to prioritize your son's feelings before deciding about your relationship. Youdecided to be selfish and said the first word that came to mind, probably because you were tested for the condition. As a nursing assistant, I can tell you that if you had the condition, you would have been discharged with adult social services, required daily medications, and participated in groups to help maintain a normal lifestyle.” I say softly and her hazel eyes tear up. I continue directly, “You want everyone to believe you have it because you don’t want them to see what you tried to do to your son. All that you’ve said to him over the years, or the accusations you made against him about me—especially when I believed I assaulted him. If people believe you have it, then your actions might be excused, but if not, it will show you were of sound mind. That you acted out of petty revenge, fully aware of your intentions and that you called him a rapist several times over when you knew we were drugged is disgusting.”
Patricia flinches as her tears fall, and she chokes, “I’m sorry,” but I shake my head.
“You don’t get to apologize to me,” I snap, “You’ve barged into my home not taking into account my husband's feelings yet again. As far as I’m concerned, it’s him you need to speak to, not me, because I’m not letting you near my daughter, and that is final.”
I look at a shocked Lick, and I say, “I suggest you get her out of here because I meant it when I said I’d kill her. What she did, what she continues to spew to him because he didn’t want to be near her, and you allowed it, it’s unforgivable at this rate.”
His jaw ticks before he commands, “Patricia, out now.”
“But–” he cuts her off and growls, “Get out!” and she jumps, but before she can walk out of the door, he snaps, “Trick told me he couldn’t find bipolar disorder on your medical reports, and I didn’t believe his word when I should have. You’ve lost my trust.”
Her whole body tenses, and she walks out seeing the look on his face while I shake my head. It’s too late for him now to see the error of his ways and I open my mouth to demand he leave as well but I pause when we hear, “Hi, papa,” and I look at the top of the stairs to find my girl in her leotard, ready for her class with Drew looking at Lick with hesitation.
The man looks at me, his eyes pleading, but the pout he's got on makes me sigh and nod. He doesn’t hesitate as he opens his arms for my daughter and says, “Come give your grandpa a hug, little dancer.”
