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CHAPTER 28
Hank
“That was the best baby shower birthday party I’ve ever been to.” Mrs. Birch lifted up on her toes and kissed me on the cheek before whispering, “Your mama would be so proud of you.”
Right after Mama passed, Mrs. Birch told me the same thing damn near every time I saw her. But it had been quite a while since I’d heard her say it. I couldn’t lie, it felt good to hear those words again.
I gave her a quick hug before Mrs. Beasley, who ran the boarding house, shouted, “Come on, Anna May. I’ve got The Bachelor recorded.”
“Oooh, The Bachelor!” Mrs. Birch clapped her hands together as she hurried to meet her friend. “Coming, Vera!”
I continued scrubbing down the barbeque wishing my mom was here. She would have loved today. Some people might turn up their noses at a five-year-old wanting a baby shower themed birthday party, but not Mama. She was the most out-of-the-box thinker in our small town. She never cared about what people said or thought. She lived her life the way she wanted to, on her terms.
She used to wear a silver firefly necklace with the inscription: A firefly shines in the darkest of nights. Never let the world dim your light.
The irony wasn’t lost on me that that’s exactly what had happened. The world hadn’t just dimmed her light it extinguished it completely.
I lifted my head and saw Billy walking toward me with purpose. I could see from his stride and expression that he had something to say. This wasn’t gonna be a, “Hey, had fun at the party see ya later.”
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for him to bring up my least favorite subject, Mama and why I wasn’t calling Jerry the mechanic. I understood why he wouldn’t let it go. There was a lot at stake. Not just finding out the truth, but also the trust.
I’d always known that Mama’s parents came from money. Her great granddaddy made his fortune in pharmaceuticals. I just hadn’t known how much money until we’d found out about the trust fund. Fifty million dollars, that’s what she was set to inherit when she turned thirty, which she was two months shy of when she died.
That’s what was supposed to be comin’ to us, at least it would have come to us if her death hadn’t had suspicious circumstances around it. Foul play. That’s what was suspected and why the trust was never released to us. Legally, the term was vague. But in the context of the trust it was defined as her death being a result of anything but natural causes or accidental. If it was murder or suicide the trust was locked. The police report was redacted but the cause of the accident was undetermined, which had given my grandparents the legal authority to freeze the money.
As much as I wished I could give my brothers answers, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
It wasn’t that I blamed my brother for being upset with me. If I was him, I’d be pissed, too. But I just wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was yet. And until I figured that out, he was just gonna have to deal with it.
“You here to lick your wounds?” I’d beaten my brothers not only at the egg relay but also in the bobbing for pacifiers and diaper changing challenge. I’d changed more diapers before I made it to double digits than either of them had changed in their entire lives. I thought maybe the dig would detour his mission.
He didn’t take the bait, instead, he stopped in front of the grill and planted his feet shoulder-width apart like he wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Reagan and I are gonna take off.”
His body language told a different story. He looked like he was settlin’ in for a fight.
“Alright, well, thanks for your help today.” I’d never sent out the bat signal before. I was usually the one answering it. It felt better than I thought it would to see how everyone had jumped right in without question. I knew I’d be hearing about it till I took my last breath, but that was a small price to pay for how happy Luna and Skylar had been today.
“No worries.” Billy looked over the land that we’d grown up on as partygoers were wrapping up plates to take with them and making their way to their cars. “This was a good day. She’s pretty special.”
“Luna’s great,” I agreed.
“I was talking about Skylar.”
“I did this for Luna.” I wasn’t lying. I had done this for Luna. Though, it was true enough that I’d also done it for Skylar.
He crossed his arms and his brows lifted causing wrinkles in his forehead. “Do we need to have the Jerry Maguire talk?”
“The what?” I asked, not breaking stride on scraping the grill. Jerry the mechanic’s last name was Samson, so I wasn’t sure if he’d misspoke or if he was talking about the movie I’d never seen starring Tom Cruise.
“Don’t shoplift the pootie.”
I stopped scrubbing and lifted my head to look at him. I had no clue what he was talking about.
“It’s the single mom talk that Cuba Gooding Jr. gives Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire.”
“Never saw it.”
“Of course you didn’t. Because you live under a rock.”
