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"She's worrying and trying to figure out how much she can control from Carmel." I gave him a thoughtful look. "What about you? You've been quiet since we found the money and you spoke to your mother."
"I'm…confused."
"Join the club."
"I know why my mother took the money and didn't ask questions. We were very poor after my dad died. She was working two jobs, and neither paid more than minimum wage. She was doing her best, but she'd gone from having a husband who took care of her to having to take care of herself and a small child. I was four years old when he died."
"That must have been difficult. What was your dad like? Do you remember him?"
"I have some memories, but I'm not sure they're mine or if I just heard so many stories about him that I made them memories."
I knew exactly how that felt. I'd done the same with my mom.
"I remember him being big and strong," Kade continued, as he sipped his beer. "He used to take me to Central Park on the subway. When I got too tired to walk, he'd put me on his shoulders and say, 'How's the view up there?' I'd say it was great. He told me it's always good to get a different perspective."
"That's a nice memory. And it sounds like it's yours."
"He also used to cook breakfast on Sunday mornings. He'd tell my mother to sleep in while he whipped up chocolate chip pancakes and a huge platter of bacon and scrambled eggs with cheese mixed in. Sunday was our day for breakfast and the park. I didn't see a lot of him during the week. He worked long hours. After he died, my mom had to go to work. There were a few relatives around who would babysit but no one had extra money to help. I'm sure when that cash started arriving, my mom thought it was a gift from God. She wasn't going to question her good fortune."
"I can see why she wouldn't. She was using the money to raise her child. But over time, it must have added up to something like thirty or forty thousand dollars. That's a lot of money."
"It is." His mouth turned down in a frown, his brown eyes darkening with a mix of emotions. "I don't understand where this group gets its money and why Laura uses her home address for distribution. I looked them up, and I couldn't find anything."
"They must have funding from some wealthy people."
"Maybe. I also keep asking myself, why did they choose my mother? She was living on the other side of the country. Unless… Did your mother ever live in New York?"
I shook my head. "Not that I know of. She was born in Atlanta. Her parents died early. She lived with her grandmother until she was seventeen. After her grandmother died, she moved to San Diego with a friend to go to community college. And then she went to LA to work. That's where she met my father."
"What did she do for work?"
"She taught music, worked in an office, waited tables…a bit of everything from what I know. But what I know is very suspect now, isn't it?"
"I'm starting to feel the same way. I'm questioning every conversation I had with Laura."
"Did you talk to Laura about your parents?"
"Not in depth, but I mentioned my father had died when I was young, and she said she could relate to that as she'd lost her parents."
"Maybe that part was true then."
"At some point, I told her my mom was being treated for cancer. She expressed concern. But we never talked about money. She certainly never mentioned the nonprofit or the fact that she had been sending my mother money for two decades. I don't think she just forgot that, so why did she keep it a secret?"
"I have no idea. Do you think she met you by accident in Seattle or was it planned? Because it seems like another huge coincidence. She was paying your mom. She had to know who you were when she met you."
"You're right, Brynn. She had to know. Her patronage was pity or charity."
I heard the unhappiness in his voice. He felt betrayed by my mother. I knew what that felt like. "Maybe after your mother stopped accepting the cash, my mom wanted to find another way to help you," I said. "But why would she do that? Why is she so obsessed with your welfare?" Once again, I couldn't quite keep the hurt tone out of my voice.
Kade's eyes softened. "I can't think of any reason."
A crazy idea came into my head. I immediately tried to shove it away, but it wouldn't go.
"What?" Kade demanded, straightening in his chair. "What are you thinking now?"
"I don't want to say it out loud."
"I can guess," he said harshly. "You have an incredibly expressive face, Brynn. Your eyes change colors with your moods. They're blue when you're calm, and purple when you're worried or worked up about something. You also lift your chin like you're fighting some subconscious battle."
