Chapter 2 - AFRAID IN HER OWN HOME
“Don’t make her angry?”
I stared at Amy.
She looked ashamed the second she said it.
That made me angrier.
Not at her.
At myself.
“How long has this been happening?”
“Connor—”
“How long?”
Frederick whimpered against her shoulder.
Amy looked toward the patio.
My mother was still laughing outside.
“Since he was about three months old.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Seven months?”
“She said you wanted her managing things.”
“I never said that.”
“She said the money went through her because you didn’t trust me with it.”
I felt like someone had punched me.
“What money?”
Amy’s eyes filled.
“The money for the house.”
I stared at her.
“What are you talking about?”
She wiped her cheek.
“Teresa said you gave her control over the household budget. She told me not to bother you while you were working.”
“No.”
“She said you were under enough pressure.”
“No, Amy.”
“She showed me texts.”
“What texts?”
“Messages that looked like they came from you.”
My throat tightened.
“I never sent anything like that.”
Amy went pale.
Frederick coughed.
I touched his neck again.
“Where’s the thermometer?”
“Upstairs.”
I carried him upstairs.
His temperature was 103.1.
“Jesus.”
“I wanted to take him to urgent care,” Amy said.
I turned.
“What stopped you?”
She didn’t answer.
“Amy.”
“Your mother took my car keys.”
For one second, the entire house went silent in my head.
No laughter.
No music.
Nothing.
“She what?”
“She said I was being dramatic.”
I handed Frederick back to Amy and walked downstairs.
She grabbed my arm.
“Connor, please.”
“No.”
“Please don’t explode.”
“I’m not exploding.”
My voice was calm.
That scared even me.
“I’m ending it.”
I opened the kitchen door.
My mother saw me.
Her smile disappeared.
“Connor.”
Every conversation stopped.
Aunt Betsy lowered her wine glass.
Mason looked toward the side gate.
My mother recovered quickly.
“Well, look who finally decided to come home.”
I walked toward her.
“Why does Amy’s car key belong to you?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Give me her keys.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Frederick has a little fever. She was overreacting.”
“Give me the keys.”
People started looking at each other.
My mother smiled like she was talking to a child throwing a tantrum.
“Connor, don’t embarrass yourself in front of the family.”
“My family is in the kitchen.”
That landed.
Her face hardened.
“So that’s how it is?”
“That’s exactly how it is.”
I held out my hand.
“Keys.”
She crossed her arms.
“This is my grandson’s birthday.”
“You’re right.”
I looked around.
“So why is his mother washing your dishes while he has a 103-degree fever?”
Silence.
Nobody moved.
Then Betsy muttered, “She’s being dramatic.”
I turned toward her.
“Get out.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“What?”
“Everybody out.”
My mother laughed.
“You can’t throw me out of my own family gathering.”
“This is my house.”
Her smile changed.
It became almost… amused.
Then she said something I didn’t expect.
“Are you sure about that?”
Mason stopped moving.
My eyes shifted to him.
He had one hand pressed against the inside of his jacket.
My mother saw me looking.
May you like
“Go ahead, Connor,” she said softly.
“Ask him what he’s carrying.”
