Page 96 of Hidden & Held
The table goes quiet, and for once, Mom doesn’t rush to fill the silence. Setting my fork down, I turn my body to face Phoenix head-on.
“That’s true.” The words come out steady, even. “I don’t get to call it a happy accident. I knew something was wrong with how Cassandra was using the investigation before everything blew up,” I admit. “I kept telling myself I had it handled. That I could stay inside it long enough to protect you and still figure out what was happening.” I shake my head once. “I didn’t step away when I should have. I thought I could control the outcome from the inside.”
“And you couldn’t,” she supplies.
“No. I couldn’t.” The words scrape my throat on the way out. “And you’re the one who paid for that, not me.” I don’t look away, even though seeing her beautiful features fall kills me. “I need you to know I’ve never been confused about that.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment.
“Okay,” she states.
Not forgiveness. Just Phoenix choosing to keep sitting at this table with me. I pick up my fork as the silence surrounds us, and Mom inevitably can’t help herself.
“Okay, enough serious talk.” She gives me a pointed look. “Now … about this Lane Legal Services thing … do you mean Ashes & Alimony?”
“Urgh, not you too, Linda?” Phoenix groans.
“It’s a genius marketing angle for the divorcées who want to burn them to the ground, is all I’m saying.”
They continue on about different marketing strategies, while I become a third party, observing their banter. Phoenix’s walls have been toppled with my mom, and I couldn’t be more thankful. A longing for this scene to be repeated for years to come hits me, and I have to tamp it down.
“That sounds like a lovely time. Unfortunately, I will be heading out this afternoon. My hubby can’t bear to be away from me for more than a few nights, even after thirty-seven years.” She sighs at their disgusting love story.
“How sweet. We should have enough support,” Phoenix replies.
“For what?” I ask, clearly missing something.
“The Foundation recently had a new property donated. It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but we are doing a large clean-up effort today. Yard work, patching holes, painting, that kind of thing. Sam and some of his crew are coming. Becca and Mack will be there too. Nessa has a catering gig at the Butte.”
“Sounds good. What time does it start?”
Phoenix and my mother side-eye each other. Phoenix’s head tilts forward slightly toward Mom, eyebrows raised as if asking her to speak up.
“Sweetie, you know that I love you.” This is the same way my mom has started every difficult conversation in my life, starting with the three goldfish I won at the fair dying. “But you are not the most … handy of people.”
I set my fork down as my hand moves to my chest. “I’ll have you know I have learned a lot. I spent months helping Phoenix remodel Unit A, and you said repeatedly how good it looks.”
“True …” Mom looks over at Phoenix for confirmation.
She shifts her attention to her coffee cup, probably remembering how I swapped out the dirty water for hers. She chimes in with an attempt at support. “Jackson. You were excellent muscle. And your height was appreciated and needed at times,” she says, going for a diplomatic tone.
“But?” I supply.
“But your skills are more in line with the courtroom. Or the kitchen. Both are vital to society,” she appeases.
“It’s true, dear,” Mom adds. “Craftsmanship in the workshop didn’t get passed down from your father to you. You took more after my side on that.”
Grabbing their plates, I head into the kitchen to do the dishes. “Look, I’ve gotten better. You’ll see.”
“Dude, that’s the wrong hammer; you’ll add another hole to this thing,” Sam whispers to me, so Phoenix, who is painting nearby, doesn’t hear.
“Does it matter?” I ask, looking at the rubber mallet he has compared to my metal one.
Sam closes his eyes and begins muttering to himself.
“What was that?” I ask, confused.
“I am trying one of Becca’s breathing techniques to calm my anxiety from dealing with your incompetence.” Sam rubs at his temples in slow motion.
