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As usual, she's wearing no make-up, her face lined by the sun and weathered by age. And still, I'd challenge anyone to argue she's not the most beautiful of us.
"Mom!" Honey leaps off her stool at the kitchen island and runs to our mother. They hug. "I'm so glad you made it."
"When you call and say your sister is sick and struggling because of something your father did, I'll always come running." She strokes Honey's cheek and presses a kiss to her temple. "I'll always show up for my girls."
Mom walks over and hugs Daisy, before coming to me. She clasps my face in her hands and my eyes burn as she studies me with concern. "I'm so sorry, my sweet, caring girl. I should have noticed how deeply your father hurt you." She kisses my forehead and steps back. "But I'm little better than him, I guess. I was worried about my own problems back then. It was clear we were headed for divorce and I had no idea how to be a single mom." She presses her lips together in a tight frown. "I failed you and I'm sorry."
"You aren't the problem, Mom," I say. "Dad was and has always been the problem."
She smoothes my hair and squeezes my head between her hands. "I loved your father and it blinded me to his faults. I should have noticed how he hurt you. That's my guilt, and I'll always carry it with me. Your guilt, my dear, is unearned and you need to let it go."
"I helped him con people out of their money. Some of them lost everything because I convinced them Dad was a man they could trust."
Mom sits on a stool at the island next to Honey. "You were a little girl who trusted your father. You did nothing wrong. And if all it takes to convince a mark a deal is legit is a ten-year-old girl saying so than I almost feel they deserve to get ripped off."
"Mom," I say on a gasp. "How can you say that?"
"She's not wrong," Daisy says. "No one should take business advice from a ten-year-old."
"I was there to make Dad seem like a family man, a good guy with roots here, someone they could trust."
Mom reaches across the island and pats my hand. "Sweetheart, you're giving yourself way too much credit. Your father convinced you of the lie that you were magic at persuading people to sell their souls, but he was the one who did that, not you."
"He told me I was just like him. He told me I could be an even better con artist than he ever was if I just gave it a real shot." It's the first time I've told anyone what Dad said to me, and my heart pounds with fear of their reactions.
"And you believed him?" Daisy asks. "That might be his biggest con yet."
I glare at my sister, more than a little tempted to smack her glasses off her pretty face. "I work really hard not to be good at conning people, not to be anything like Dad."
"You are good at many things," Mom says. "But persuasion, either legal or illegal, is not one of those things. I still remember when you were six and trying to persuade your father and I to get you a puppy. You listed all the reasons not to get a puppy first, because you told us you wanted to be honest about the drawbacks." She laughs. "You were six. You didn't word it exactly that way, but it was something similar."
"But Dad said…" I feel a bit dizzy. I've believed my skills of persuasion to be superior for so many years. It's a core part of who I am.
"If you have any gift," Mom says. "Any particular talent, it's empathy. You see what people need and you make sure they have it. You're honest to a fault and beyond, but you've been lying to yourself, my dear. There's no chance you'll ever be like your father. The only time that man ever cared what someone else might need was when he was trying to figure out how to use it against them."
My mother is biased and she wants me to have good things and be happy, so I'm not sure I believe her analysis of me. I'll consider it later. At the moment, I have a more important question. "You really believe Dad was a horrible, irredeemable person?"
She sighs. "People are complicated and I have complicated feelings about your father. He was a selfish, narcissistic man who amused himself by playing with people's minds. He called it practicing manipulation. But he also left us, which was the kindest thing he ever did in his life as far as I can tell."
"Abandoning us was the kind thing?" Daisy stares like she thinks our mother might be experiencing dementia of some sort.
Mom looks down at her hands and when she looks up again, her eyes are damp. "Your father wanted to build a business, a not quite legal business, and he had roles planned for each of you girls. He wanted to raise his daughters, not to be strong on their own, but to be strong in the ways that best supported his plans and his goals. When he left us, he gave up on that dream." Mom pats my hand again. "And I believe he gave up on it because he saw how hurt you were, Clover, by the way he used you to trick those people. Not much got to your father but seeing you crying and begging him to give the money back…" Mom swipes at herdamp eyes. "He couldn't handle it. He decided he worked better alone."
"It didn't stop him from trying to turn all of us against each other every time we talked to him," Daisy says.
"I know. Honey told me what you girls figured out about the mind games your father played on you. I lived with and loved that man for seventeen years, but there are so many things about him I'll never understand. Maybe he believed he was protecting you from himself by being cruel or maybe he wanted to drive you sisters apart so he could find a partner among you. We'll never truly know, and that might be for the best."
"I still have to give the money back," I say. "No matter what you say about my guilt, I need to make it right."
"You'll be just fine without that money. Just be sure that once the money is all returned you forgive yourself, Clover. Don't carry the guilt with you, it'll eat you alive."
I nod, but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive myself. "I should go. I want to catch Mr. Winfield at work."
"So you don't run into Asher?" Honey says like she can read my mind.
"My father stole from his stepfather," I say. "Can you imagine how different his life might be if I hadn't ruined it?"
"Clover," Mom says on a huff. "Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"
