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“Why don't you ask me what you really came here to know?”
I hated that she’d cut me off and the certainty in her tone that she held the power.
“Ivette, why are you standing at the—oh, I didn't realize we had a visitor.” The man I hadn’t wanted to see stood behind her.
I ignored him and focused on my mother. There were more important things I had to do with my time.
“You leaving us was the best thing that ever happened.” She opened her mouth to respond, but I didn't let her. “Stay away from all of us.”
I spun and trotted back down the steps. This time I wasn’t running. I was walking away intentionally.
“I left because of you.”
I stumbled. The words were like fire blazing arrows in my back. They were the ones I’d feared most of my life.
She left because of me, son. Don’t you ever think otherwise. Ever.
My father’s words gave me strength.Hewas the one who’d been there for me through everything.Hewas the one I could trust. And I was finally listening to him.
I kept walking. I'd said what I needed to.Done. So very done with her. But if she ignored my warning, I had my family to stand up against her. We had each other. Something she would never get back.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Baker
“I’ll be there in an—”
I froze in the doorway and sniffed.Was that motor oil?I shook my head to clear it. Obviously, I was hallucinating . . . or losing my mind. Maybe both.
“Baker?” Trish’s worried voice came through the phone.
“I’ll be there in an hour. You guys go on and eat without me.”
“No. Mr. Dixon just started to cook, so you have plenty of time.”
“See you soon.”
I tossed my keys on the counter and surveyed the room. Everything looked the same. The disappointment was still potent. I’d gotten better, but every day I pictured opening the front door to find Holt standing in the kitchen, coveralls on, beer in hand.
It never happened.
And now I was smelling a garage shop. Lunatic. A delusional lunatic.
“Hey!”A chorus of welcomes greeted me as I came into Mr. Dixon’s living room.
Ella screamed the loudest. All was normal.
“Am I late?”
“Right on time,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Andrew just set the table.”
“He did?”
“I heard that,” he called from the dining room.
“Here you are, love.” Mr. Dixon passed me a glass of red wine and kissed me on the cheek. “How’s the magazine world?”
“Crazy busy?”
