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Ignoring my mother’s declaration, I look at Mary and force myself to smile. “Of course you should go—” Patrick’s parents are Mary’s sister and Paddy’s brother—identical twins married identical twins—and if Gilroy family gossip is to be believed, things have been strained between them for years now. “This is an important trip and I wouldn’t want you to postpone it, just because of me.”
“Great,” my mother chimes in. “Then it’s settled. Your dad will go on home to Ohio and I’ll stay here. Patrick mentioned that he has some rental properties around town that we can move into—”
“What?” I look at Patrick and he has the good grace to look a little sick to his stomach. I don’t know why I feel so blindsided—I mean, I knew, didn’t I? I knew better than to let myself settle in. Trust the good guy face he shows everyone. Every instinct I have was screaming at me not to trust him when he said we were family, that Molly and I meant the world to him, and like an idiot, I ignored them. “You want us to leave?”
“No.” He looks right at me when he says it, his jaw tight with pent-up frustration. “And that is not what I said, Evelyn,” Patrick says, aiming a glare in my mother’s direction. “What I said was that when Grace felt like it was time to get her own place, that I would be more than happy to give her the pick of any of the properties I have available.” Now he looks at me. “But that it would be her choice, when she felt it was time.”
More charity.
Another handout.
I have to press a hand against my stomach and lock my jaw into place to keep myself from throwing up. Or screaming. Maybe if I open my mouth, I’ll just scream. Tell them all to go to hell. That they can’t just stand around and make decisions about my life, Molly’s life, like I don’t have a say. Like my choices can’t be trusted.
“Well, it’s time,” my mother huffs at him. “You and Cari are married now. You don’t want to come home from your honeymoon to an unwanted houseguest and a—”
Throw up.
I’m definitely going to throw up.
“She’s not unwanted,” Cari pipes up, throwing a look at Patrick before letting it settle on our mother. “Neither of them are—why would you say that?” Now she looks at me. “Gracie—we love having you with us. We love you. We love Molly—we’re family. We would never—” She makes a small, helpless sound in the back of her throat when she reaches for my hand and I pull it away from her. “Please say something. Gracie—”
“There’s nothing to say,” my mom informs her. “Even she knows this is the only rational solution to be had.”
“Rational?” Something snaps inside me when she says it and I finally find my voice. “You think it’s rational to abandon your husband and move eight hundred miles away, just so you can prove to everyone that I’m a failure who can’t raise my child without help?”
“Well, you can’t,” she shoots back, waving her arm to encompass the kitchen and everyone standing in it. “That’s why we’re all standing here—because you can’t do it on your own. You need help.” She drops her arm and sighs like I’m being an unreasonable child. “And I’m in the best position to give it to you.”
I look around the kitchen. No one looks happy. No one looks like they think this is the best solution but they all look like they agree with her.
That I can’t do it on my own.
“It’s settled. Your father will ship my things and we can start to look for a—”
“No.” I shake my head, sounding much more confident than I feel. “I don’t need you, Mom.”
“Just like you didn’t need Molly’s father?” she snaps at me. “Quit being so—”
“Okay, fine—I don’t want you here.” I yell it at her, her face going stark white like I just slapped her. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, trying to rein in my temper. “I appreciate the offer, and I appreciate everything that all of you have done for us.” I let my gaze wander, letting it fall on each of their faces. “But Molly and I can manage just fine without you upending your lives. Any of you.”
“How?” My mother demands, hands stacked on her hips because she thinks I’m being stubborn and irrational. She’s right, I am. Because I have no idea. I haven’t a clue on how I’m going to manage the next six weeks without Mary’s help or where Molly and I are going to live now that my mother has made it impossible for me to continue staying with Cari and Patrick. “How are you going to do this on your—”
“She isn’t.”
Everyone freezes, an instant before they turn to look at the person standing in the kitchen doorway.
Ryan.
Ryan is standing in the kitchen doorway not more than five feet away from me.
“Excuse me?” This from my father, his heavy dark brows lifting off his weather-beaten forehead before slamming down over his faded blue eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said, she isn’t.” Ryan looks right at him when he says it, shoulders squared, jaw held firm. “At least she doesn’t have to. If Grace wants help with Molly or a place to live, she’ll get them from me.” The two of them stare at each for a second or two before Ryan shifts his gaze to where I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen, gaping at him like a lunatic. “Do you want to leave?”
I didn’t drive here with him and we have no plan to drive back to Boston together. He hasn’t so much as waved at me since this morning, but I nod anyway. “Yes.”
“Good—go get Molly and meet me at the car,” he says before looking at Patrick. “Congratulations,” he says, dividing a quick, grim smile between him and Cari before he turns his back on the lot of us and makes his way out the front door.
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