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My eyes go wide at his words.
“What? How would you know that?” I ask as I pass him on my way to the stairs.
“She rang Becca’s phone when I was down there, and I answered. She was looking for her, so I told her she was here.”
I pause at the top of the stairs. “You had no right to do that.”
He reaches for me, and I pull away, turning to face him. “You had no right. They didn’t care that she was dying. They don’t care about her at all.”
“I think that’s the reason she’s here. She cares now,” he states, but he doesn’t know the whole story. I shake my head and continue down the stairs until I reach the door. Pulling it open, I find a lady standing there, her bag clutched to her side. I know straight away she’s Becca’s mother. They look alike with the same blonde hair and bone structure. Her eyes take me in, then move to Joey behind me.
“Hi, I’m Samantha, Becca’s mother. We spoke on the phone.”
Joey steps up next to me and offers her his hand. She shakes it and places hers back to her side.
“I’ll see if she’s awake.” Joey heads off while Samantha studies me.
“This is a lovely home. Have you known my daughter for long?” she asks, probably expecting an introduction I’m not willing to give her.
“Not all that long.”
“That’s super helpful of him to offer her a place to stay.”
“It’s what a good person would do, wouldn’t you say?” I reply pointedly as Joey returns.
“I have to speak to Joey for a second, do you mind?”
Samantha nods, and Joey shuts the door, looking confused. When it’s closed behind us, I look up at him expectantly.
“Becca wants to ask us something, what did you need to ask me?” he says.
“Nothing.” I shake my head needing to step away from that woman. I spin on my heel and head for Becca’s room. She’s picking nervously at her nails when I walk in, and she wastes no time before she speaks, “Joey, will you say you’re my boyfriend?” I look back over my shoulder to find Joey behind me.
“This won’t bother you?” he asks me.
One of my legs starts shaking, and I find it hard to stand still.
“She doesn’t want conflict with her mother since she took the step to visit her,” I manage to say, but I look back at Becca. “You should tell her. You don’t want to lie to her.”
“But I do. She hates me for what I am. This way, she won’t. This way I will go to the grave, and she will think no less of me.”
“You’re amazing just as you are,” I add, hating that she thinks she has to do this. That her mother, of all people, would make her feel like this. That she has to hide who she is, that she has to feel that insecure in her own life.
“If you hadn’t fucked my wife, I may even like you,” Joey adds, and she cracks a smile. “I’ll do it. Of course, I will. I’ll bring her in now.”
“Thank you, Joey,” Becca whispers as Joey walks away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” Her eyes glance to the door.
“It’s fine. It will be fine,” I say to reassure us both. I step around to the other side of the bed. Slipping my hand under the covers, I grab her fingers and give them a tight squeeze. She hasn’t seen her mother for such a long time—her parents wanting nothing to do with her when she came out.
“Becca.”
Becca turns away from me, her hand leaving mine as she looks at her mother standing in the doorway.
“I…”
“We should leave,” Joey says to me, and I look at him in shock.
