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“We’re not open, so I’m not paying for electricity we don’t need to use. And she’s in my office.”
She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “You’re such a cheapskate.”
“And Penelope will reap the benefits of it. She can use money for toilet paper if she likes.”
JoJo let out a huff. “I brought breakfast.” She lifted a bag.
“You did?” I eyed it suspiciously. “Like real food?”
“Eggs and extra bacon.” She shuddered.
I grabbed the bags and pointed my chin at Whitley. “Keep your mouth shut.”
He held up both hands. “You’re the pain inmyass.”
I rubbed my temples.
For two hours we’d strategized while walking a tightrope so we didn’t drop the bomb that Alma was Penelope’s biological mother.
I wasn’t used to holding back, especially in my office. And I wasn’t sure whose mouth was more of a liability . . . mine or Whitley’s.
Penelope closed the cover on her tablet. “I’d like to go in with you to see the judge.”
“No.”
Whitley, JoJo, and I spoke at once.
Penelope furrowed her brow. “If I see what it’s like before the judge, I can get a better feel for where we go from here.”
“You won’t ever have that luxury when you litigate cases,” I said.
JoJo shot me a look like she wanted to rip my head off, but I wasn’t going to sugarcoat the real world from my daughter . . . except about Alma. If she wanted to be a lawyer, she needed to learn how to do it.
“I need experience too, but I didn’t want to say that because it sounds selfish.” She stuffed the tablet into her bag. “Since we’re being honest, you should get out your checkbook because Aunt Alma is getting half of your stuff.”
Ouch.
She stood and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see you at home.”
I pushed from my chair and rounded the desk. “Let me walk you out.”
“No need.” She lifted her chin.
I ignored her, determined to smooth things over. I’d hurt her feelings and . . . I cared? Who was I now?
“There are . . . things about my marriage I don’t want you to hear.” She opened her mouth to respond, but I held up a hand to stop her. “Ugly things I won’t allow to touch you. If it were any other case, I’d want you to go. But I also want to give you the opportunity to make up your own mind about Alma.” I barely got the last sentence out, though it was true.
The morning had already skewed her opinion with my jaded point of view. While I was more than justified, I needed Penelope to come to her own conclusions about Alma. I never wanted there to be a doubt in her mind that she viewed Alma from her own perspective.
I wanted her to choose me over Alma because it was her decision.
I spent so much time trying to convince people to see things my way. I was good at that. And it was hard not to do so with my daughter.
But my relationship with her was more important than any case.
Penelope looked at me with intelligent eyes. Ones that seemed to see and understand so much.
Finally, she nodded. “I feel left out, but I get it.”
