"He told me twice more. The last time was the day before he passed."
I can't speak.
My free hand goes to my chest.
To the chain. To Garrett's ring.
He knew.
He knew, and he tried to protect me from his deathbed.
I close my eyes and press the palm of my hand flat against my sternum.
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I thought he was talkin' out of the medication, baby. I thought it was the morphine. I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I should've told you years ago, and I shouldn’t have given that Todd boy your number. My mind just hasn’t been right since Garrett died. I get things confused, and everything started comin’ back to me as of late."
I feel bad for even bringing it up. "You're tellin' me now, it’s okay."
"Hadley. I should've?—"
"Don’t overthink it. Everything is fine."
We breathe together on the line for a long moment. Diesel's head is heavy against my thigh.
Outside on the porch, I can hear Nash talking to himself about something—probably to Stitch, who travels with him everywhere.
Things between Mama Cross and I are good, but I need to make something clear. "I'm gonna need to ask you to do somethin'."
"Anything, baby. Anything."
"Don't give Todd any more access to me. None. Not my number. Not my address. Not anything. If he asks, you tell him I got spooked and the last you heard I was moving, and I haven’t spoken to you since. I want him to leave me and Nash alone."
"Of course." Mama Cross's voice steadies on that one. Like she's been waiting two years to be told what to do, and now somebody is finally telling her, and she can stand up straight again.
"Thank you." I close my eyes against the kitchen cabinets and let my head rest back against the wood.
"Hadley." Her voice goes softer, smaller.
"Yeah?"
I open my eyes. Diesel's head is heavy against my thigh. The afternoon light is moving across the linoleum.
"I want to come see you. Not now. Not while this is goin' on. But after. When it's done. Whatever's goin' on out there. I want to come hug my grandson and I want to look you in the eye and tell you I'm sorry to your face."
I press my hand harder against the ring. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."
"I love you, baby."
"I love you too, Mama Cross."
The call ends.
I stay on the kitchen floor for another couple of minutes with Diesel's head on my thigh and the phone in my lap.
I don't cry. I absorb everything I just learned.
GarrettknewTodd was a snake, and if I know anything about my husband, he wouldn’t have wanted me to deal with this alone.
