“I’ll try to remember,” Linc hedged.
Jesse appreciated his attempt at diplomacy. “How about it? Feel like surf and turf?”
She stomped her foot, lodging her spiked heel in the grass, and wobbled on her feet until she dislodged it. “I suppose. I did want to cook for you. You’re rarely home for dinner anymore.”
“Sorry, Mom. I have a business to run. Gotta work to put food on the table.” His stomach ached. He hated the façade, the lies, but if she knew he had money, she’d spend it faster than he could bring it in. For now, she had to be content to live on a small allowance and let him look after the household bills. It sucked that he had to treat his mother like a disobedient teenager.
Maybe if he spent more time with her, she’d sober up. Sometimes he knew being around more would help. Other times, he knew only she could help herself. Dealing with her was burdensome and a hard line to walk; every day he wished there was a better way. For both of them. He wanted his old mother back. The smiling, sober one.
“Come on, Mom. I’ll take you home.” He steered her toward the gate. “I’ll be back after I feed Mom,” he called. Linc would be done and gone before Jesse returned, but Jesse needed the possible escape route. For his sanity. Thankfully, his friend understood his dilemma.
He helped her into the truck, climbed in and started the engine.
“I heard about you helping that Masters girl.” She spat the name out accusingly.
“I helped unload a few boxes. She paid me.” He offered the idea of money to placate her.
“I thought you loved me,” she wailed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Real or fake, he couldn’t tell any more. She was a master of emotional manipulation.
“I do love you, Mom. More than anything.” There was no way he’d win this argument. The best he could hope for was to distract her.
“If you did, you’d have walked away when she asked for help.”
There was no way he’d admit to suggesting he help her. He was man enough to know he couldn’t let a woman unload alone and smart enough to know the very idea would set his mother off again. “I did it for the money.”
“Money, schmoney,” she slurred. “Do you know what her family did to me? They humiliated me. In public.” Her sobs doubled.
She must be drunker than he thought. “I know, Mom.” He tried to be patient with her histrionics as he drove toward the restaurant.
“I spent thousands on lawyers, trying to get my due. They owe me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Streaks of mascara and too-red lipstick were smeared all over her face.
He pulled over to the curb and moistened a tissue with water from a water bottle and cleaned her face as best he could. She was in tough enough straits; she didn’t need more public humiliation.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too,” she responded, seeming to have forgotten the Masters for a moment.
He could take her home first and return for takeout, leaving her alone to drink. She’d likely pass out, without eating, if he did. If he stopped for food, she’d hit the liquor store in the same parking lot and stock up. He was damned either way. He’d take her in to eat, but countless attempts at public dining only reinforced her paranoia that everyone was staring at her.
Takeout it was. At the moment, keeping her at his side seemed the lesser of all evils. Resigned, he called his order in before driving slowly to Scampi’s, the long way.
She nodded off on the way, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his guilt for not being a better son. He’d tried everything he could to get her into rehab; even letting her be arrested and prosecuted for public drunkenness.
The judge, sympathetic with Jesse’s plight, had ordered two months in rehab. He’d hoped it would be their salvation, but she’d started drinking the day she got out.
She woke with a start when he eased to a stop in front of Scampi’s. she scrambled from the truck and staggered toward the liquor store. Sadly, he watched until she was safely inside, his heart aching for the mother he’d lost.
Chapter Five
Hailey lay in bed Monday morning, watching thick flakes of snow drift by. Experience told her that they’d have several inches before nightfall. It would probably stick around, too. This late in November, snow rarely melted away unless you lived in the deep south of the province where they were blessed with Chinook winds. Here, in the north, heavy snowfalls always stuck around.
The drifting snow reminded her of her youth. Snow day off from school. Sledding. Snowball fights. The safety and security of sipping hot chocolate while storms raged outside. She’d adored waking to heavy snow and watching it float lazily past the street light in the early hours of the morning, before the sun rose. Hot cocoa and oatmeal were her favorite winter breakfast and was often followed by baking cookies, if school was cancelled.
Today, there would be no cancellation. The store would be open. On the plus side, snow meant shoppers and that was ideal for her first day at Two Angels Gifts. Maybe she’d find a clue as to why her parents had taken to fighting over the store they’d built together. She hopped out of bed, ready to face the first day of her temporary new job and the beginning of her new life.
Five hours later, she was bored out of her mind. She was getting an inkling on what the problem with the business was. There wasn’t any. By now, they should be knee deep in early Christmas shoppers.
“Mom, what happened to this place?” Hailey winced. She probably could have worded the question better, less offensively.
