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“Is that right?” She looked at the man before her with new eyes.
“I have taken my share of criminal law,” he admitted, “though it was a long time ago.”
“I guess I owe you a debt of thanks.”
“Do you?” He pulled the wrinkled documents from his pocket, and she stiffened. The note.
“Listen, honey, why don’t you go up to your room?” Tiffany said to her son. “Uncle Jay and I have something to discuss.”
“What?” Stephen demanded, looking from one to the other. “What?”
“It’s personal,” Tiffany said. “I’ll explain later.”
Stephen hesitated, but J.D. nodded. “Go on up. This’ll only take a minute or two.”
Not certain, Stephen started for the swinging doors. He paused just as he reached them, then studied the floor for a few seconds. “Does this have anything to do with me?”
“No!” they said in unison.
Stephen managed a thin smile. “Good. I thought maybe I was in trouble again.” He disappeared through the doors, and Tiffany heard his footsteps on the stairs. A few seconds later he’d tuned up his guitar, and notes were wafting through the floorboards.
“I should tell him not to wake Christina,” she said, but decided it wasn’t the time. Instead, she turned and faced the man she loved, the man who had taught her that it was all right to be done with grieving, the man who had used her so callously.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“It’s simple. I came to Bittersweet to tell you that you don’t own the house, that Santini Brothers do. They bought Philip out to cover his gambling debts.”
Pain burned through her soul.
“So I’m tossed out? Me and the children?”
“Nope.” He tore the deed and note in half, then half again. “It’s forgiven.”
“What?”
“The debt. It’s been taken care of.”
“How?”
“My father’s had a change of heart,” he said, still shredding the documents and letting the small confetti-like pieces fall to the floor.
“You paid him.”
He didn’t answer.
“You didn’t have to, you know. I would have taken care of it.” She should have been offended but found the gesture somehow comforting. Maybe their relationship wasn’t for naught. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I said I’ll pay you.”
“Drop it, Tiffany. You and the kids, you’re part of the family.”
“Don’t lie to me, Jay. It belittles us both. I never have nor will I ever be part of the Santini clan. That was your father’s choice. Not mine.”
His jaw worked. “I said, things have changed.”
She didn’t believe him, but changed the subject to the worry that had been gnawing at her for the past hour. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
