Page 23 of Damaged Billionaire Daddy (The Lanes Series #1)

Chapter twenty-two

Kandis

Mimi held me while I sobbed out my abject misery. Then I staggered away from her and was sick in the flower bed. It was probably good that they were just leaves and stalks at this season.

Then Mimi and Pops were there, one on either side of me, guiding me to where I could sit on the step and catch my breath. Mimi went inside and brought back a ginger ale.

She sat down beside me while Pops went off to do something — maybe to vent his anger, because I could tell that he was still hot on my behalf.

After a little while, Mimi said, “Kandy, he brought you some presents.”

I nodded. “I saw. It’s what he does. He throws money around and thinks it will make everything better.”

“Does it?” Mimi asked. “Did he seem to feel better after the wedding you went to?”

I began to laugh. “Well, no. After he delivered his ‘I got a girlfriend’ message by parading me around, he couldn’t wait to get out of there. But I think he was pleased with himself for the scene he nearly caused.”

“Did he try to stop the wedding?”

I thought about that. “No, not really. He made some mean remarks that might have even been true. He likes to be the bare-back rider, so to speak. Dumb me, I didn’t even try to make him use a condom.”

“Oh, Kandy,” Mimi said, “I should have talked with you more, should have realized your mom wouldn’t tell you anything useful.”

“And I probably wouldn’t have listened to her if she had,” I replied, scrubbing at my face with the heel of my hand. “Anyway, he can be very persuasive.”

“Oh, I’m sure he can,” Mimi said. “Let’s look at what he left for you anyway.”

“I’d really rather not,” I said listlessly. “I want to go lie down for a while, then call Uncle George to see how Mom is doing.”

With that, I walked into the house and go to my room. I flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My life was completely and totally fucked up. Mimi and Pops would give me a job, and we would all love the baby.

But the poor little thing wouldn’t have a father, just a grandpop. Then there was Mom. Would she have gotten sick if I’d gone back to her place instead of running away to California?

I took out my cell phone and dialed Uncle George’s number.

“George Butterman,” he answered the phone.

“Hi,” I said. “It’s Kandy. How’s Mom?

“She’s somewhat better,” he said. “They’ve got her hooked up to tubes and monitors and I don’t know what all, but she’s breathing on her own and she ate some soup. She’s asking for you all the time, Kandy.”

Then I knew what I needed to do. Mimi and Pops would help me, I was sure of it. Maybe they could even help me come up with some sort of remote work. But it was as plain as anything that Mom wasn’t taking good care of herself, and someone needed to see about her.

Since she was in the hospital, she couldn’t disappear into the street before I could get there.

I got up off the bed and went to look for my grandmother.

“Mimi?” I call to her.

“In the kitchen, dear,” she answered.

I went into the kitchen. Mimi was drying a cup. The tea kettle was bubbling merrily on the stove. She turned and took it off the stove. “Chamomile,” she explained as she poured it. “Supposed to be good for both stomach and nerves. Why don’t we both have a cup?”

“All right,” I said. “Mimi, I think I should go see about Mom. With her in the hospital, I think I might be able to get a judge to give me custody of her.”

Mimi was completely silent for a few minutes as she placed a tea egg in each cup, and then poured hot water over them. “Sweetheart, are you sure? That’s a big job.”

“I know,” I said. “But Aunt Martha doesn’t like her, so she can’t stay with Uncle George. I’ll see if I can get a job online or something so I can stay with her all the time.”

Mimi seemed to think about it for a few minutes. “We’ll help,” she said. “I never did feel right about not trying to take care of her, even if she wasn’t our daughter. But you’ll need to control the money, and that means not giving her any chance at all of handling even so much as a penny.”

“I know,” I said. “But I realized that I always wanted help from her, even when she wasn’t able to give it. I don’t think I ever really thought about what it must be like for her.”

“Call George,” Mimi said. “Ask him to see about finding you a place to stay. Your pops and I will see to plane tickets. You are in no condition to drive across the country, even if the weather is decent.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Mimi.”

“Child,” Mimi said.

I looked up at her.

“Do you really want to keep this baby? There are still places you can go . . .”

I nodded my head. “I want it. If things had been different, I think I could really go for Richard in a big way. But not if it means letting him take over the business you and Pops worked so hard to build up. And not if that’s all he wants.”

I took a swallow of my tea. It had honey and milk in it, and it soothed my throat and unhappy stomach.

“Why could you go for him?” Mimi asked. “Is it his money or that he used to be a football hero?”

I shook my head no. “I’m not sure how to put this.

But when it was just us, he helped clean up the kitchen.

He made popcorn. The cabin in the mountains…

it wasn’t just any old cabin. It was his favorite childhood retreat place.

He’d saved kid games from when he was little and had stored his favorite movie DVDs because you can’t count on getting good Internet reception. ”

“What did he save?” Mimi asked.

“Oh, a lot of the usual stuff. Terminator, Airplane, football hero videos . . .but he also had Goonies, Princess Bride, and It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Three of your favorites.” Mimi smiled. “Interesting, but hardly the basis for starting a life together.”

“But enough to go for a second date,” I said, “If it were not that he let slip he was still after the vineyard. He’s a goddamn handsome bastard and a cold-hearted asshole.” I felt the tears beginning to slide down my cheeks.

Mimi watched me cry for a minute. I took another sip of my tea, trying to get myself together.

“Tell you what,” she said. “I think we need to make those plane tickets round trip and find a way to bring your mother back here. We tried before, but maybe things will be different now that you are older. There’s a cottage where we usually house a temporary harvest worker. You could stay there.”

“Thanks, Mimi. Not worrying about rent would help for sure. And I’d have Mila for moral support, as well as you and Pops.”

“Let’s see if we can make it happen,” Mimi said. Then she nodded at the pot of crimson tea roses. “By the way, there’s something to be said for a man who sends a potted plant instead of cut flowers. Maybe you shouldn’t write him off just yet.”

I shook my head. “Mimi, I see what you are doing there, but I was never anything important or special to him. It was a way to get to you and Pops, and to get back at his fiancée.”

Mimi clicked her tongue. “Well, well. In all events, let’s get you packed so you can go see about your mother. When your father was alive, she was a good and caring parent. If she’s asking for you, you should go to her.”

* * *

I looked out over the wing of the airplane. Mimi and Pops had made a few phone calls, then I had called Uncle George, and he agreed to meet me at the airport.

Amazingly, I had not been sick even once after packing. Not even when the airplane hit a patch of turbulence.

The flight attendant, a slender young man with bright orange hair, checked on me regularly. He made sure I was well supplied with saltines and 7-Up. I passed on the meal that was served at mid-flight. My stomach was behaving well, and I didn’t want to take any chances.

I let my mind drift to that last round of…well, could you call it love making? I had punched Richard, then he had said something, but I was too upset to listen.

How could a man who enjoyed Princess Bride, built snow forts, and knew how to make snow candy be such a total prick?

Pops had once said that many people separate their business dealings from their personal life. He’d explained that it was a way for people from ruthless stockbrokers to soldiers and assassins to have something resembling a normal life when they were not “at work.”

“But how can they do that?” I had protested. “Just because they shut off the emotions doesn’t undo the things that they have done.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Pops had said. “That’s why I like growing grapes, and why I focus more on body and flavor than alcohol content in my wine.”

“Because of Mom?” I had asked.

Pops had shaken his head. “No. I’d started paying attention to making a good flavored wine long before your father was a teen. Your mom didn’t always have a problem with drinking wine. That happened after your father was taken from us, and after her accident.”

I wondered how Mom was holding up. Would she check herself out of the hospital and take off before I can get there? The clouds outside the window of the plane reminded me of the meringue she used to layer over lemon pie. I loved lemon pie, but I hated meringue. To me, it tasted like rubber.

Maybe getting back with Mom will be like lemon pie. We could throw away the browned egg whites off the top and enjoy the good lemon pudding and graham cracker crust underneath.

This thought made for a happy daydream I could indulge in while the plane droned across the route that had taken me nearly four days by car. I imagined sitting down beside her bed and having her smile at me like she used to when I was a kid and brought her burned toast and tea for Mother’s Day.

Maybe I was still a kid hoping for a mom who would take care of me.