“Answer me,” Winifred said.
“You never talk about Mom!” Summer’s anguish tore through the room. “You act like she’s dead! No one’s called her in weeks, or even asked if I want to talk to her.”
Guilt warmed Casey’s face.
Winifred said, “Your mother doesn’t call us either—”
“You’ve never once said her name since she went to prison,” Summer went on.
“Are you trying to tell me that mentioning your mother’s name now and then will improve your manners?”
While Summer began to sob, Casey slumped into a chair. Just as she’d feared, Summer hadn’t really accepted or adjusted to life without Rhonda. She’d hoped that the camping trips, shopping excursions, sports, and tons of movies during those first few weeks had helped Summer; but since school started, they’d both been busier. New friends had entered Summer’s life. It had been easier to blame those girls for Summer’s actions than to understand what was really happening.
“Acting out while your mother’s away won’t solve anything.” Winifred pointed her finger at her grandchild. “You might as well make the best of it, young lady.”
“How can I?” Summer shouted. “She’s a thousand times better mom than you are!”
Winifred’s eyes blazed. “She’s not a real mom at all. She doesn’t know the first thing about giving birth or watching a child die like I have!”
“Winifred, no!” Casey leapt to her feet.
Winifred’s eyes bulged as if surprised by her own outburst. Casey wanted to slap duct tape over the stupid woman’s mouth. Winifred knew that Rhonda had never wanted Summer to hear the truth.
“What’s she talking about?” Summer turned to Casey. “Mom gave birth to me.”
Oh lord, what was she supposed to say?
“No,” Winifred answered, crossing her arms. “She didn’t.”
Summer gasped. “What?”
Casey wanted to explain, but it felt like someone had kicked her in the ribs. She rushed to Summer and started to put her arms around her, but Summer pushed her away.
“Tell me!” Summer’s gaze darted from one to the other.
Cheyenne whimpered and nudged Summer’s hand.
“I had another daughter, ten years younger than Rhonda.” Winifred’s mouth quivered. “Anna died of a heroine overdose two months after she gave birth to you. She was eighteen.”
Casey gripped the back of the chair while the color drained from Summer’s face. The old bat hadn’t approved of Rhonda’s desire to keep the past a secret. Helpless to stop what was about to unfold, she braced herself.
“Anna tried to take care of herself when she was pregnant,” Winifred added. “Right after your birth, she picked up that filthy habit again.”
Summer slumped into a chair. “Who’s my dad?”
“No one knows.” Winifred fumbled through her pockets, as if looking for something. “You had health problems at first, but with professional help, you recovered. When Anna died, Rhonda adopted you.”
Summer jumped up and dashed out of the room. Cheyenne bounded after her.
Casey’s heart pounded so hard she could only take quick shallow breaths. “How could you do that?”
Winifred picked up her cleaning rag. “It’s wrong to live with deceit.”
“It was Rhonda’s call to make, not yours!”
“Rhonda’s not here! My daughters aren’t here because they made bad choices.” She glowered at Casey. “Do you actually think you’re competent enough to control that girl?”
“Are you?” Casey’s voice rose. “I mean, your track record isn’t too great, is it?”
“And you have no record at all!” Shades of red mottled Winifred’s face. “You’re destroying Summer!”
“She’s a grieving twelve-year-old who misses her mom. I know what that’s like.”
The bitterness and resentment toward Mother was still vivid. Casey wished she’d ended their estrangement when Mother offered her the chance.
“Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to watch that bright, beautiful child unravel?” Winifred’s eyes glistened. “It was hard enough losing one daughter to drugs, and a husband who had nothing to say to me even as he took his last breath.” Her voice wavered. “But to have my oldest child kill another human being in one insane moment is unbearable.”
Casey recoiled. This was the first time those words had been spoken in this house, the first time she’d seen a tear spill from Winifred.
“I devoted my life to my family.” Winifred removed a tissue from her apron pocket. “And all I got was shame and heartbreak. I don’t want Summer to turn out like them.” Her hand shook as she wiped her eyes. “Rhonda wasn’t in the proper frame of mind when she made you guardian. A judge should decide who’s best qualified to raise that child.”
Casey’s jaw clenched. “Is that a threat?”
“I’m just saying that Summer’s guardianship should be re-evaluated.”
“Rhonda would have something to say about that.”
“Rhonda’s lost her right to have a say in Summer’s upbringing, and I will not let that child become as unstable as her mother.”
“I don’t want to hear that crap, and especially not anywhere near Summer.”
Winifred looked taken aback. “How can you forget and forgive what Rhonda’s done?”
“Stop it!” Fury roiled in Casey. She had no right to throw the past in her face. “Let’s get one thing straight, you’re only in this house because I’m allowing it. I was hoping you and Summer would find a way to connect, but if you don’t start offering more support and less criticism, you’re out of here.”
Winifred plunked her hands on her hips. “No one speaks to me that way.”
“I just did.” Casey charged out of the room. By the time she reached the second floor, she was out of breath and shaking. “Summer?” She tapped on the door. “Can we talk?”
“No!” Something struck the door hard.
Casey flinched. “I’ll be upstairs if you change your mind.”
Inside her apartment, Casey leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Tears slipped between her lashes and trickled down her face. How on God’s earth was she supposed to handle this?
The whistling guinea pigs caught her attention. Casey retrieved carrots and lettuce from the fridge. While she replenished water and pellet dishes, she took deep yoga breaths to ease the tension, but it wasn’t enough.
Once the animals were fed, she hopped onto her stationary bike and pedaled fast as memories of things Rhonda and her parents had kept from her eventually surfaced. Casey shoved them back. This wasn’t the time for self-pitying nostalgia. She was building up a sweat when a light rap on the door made her stop.
“Come in.” Casey got off the bike.
As Summer stepped inside, followed by Cheyenne, relief and trepidation bombarded Casey. A bulging backpack hung from Summer’s shoulder. She’d put on pink lipstick, mauve eye shadow, and a ring of black eyeliner around pain-filled eyes. It was too much makeup for a twelve-year-old, but this wasn’t the time to criticize her.
“You don’t have to knock anymore, remember?”
“I’m still not used to it.”
Meaning she hadn’t yet accepted that they were officially a family now, and that Summer was welcome to come and go as she pleased up here. When she remembered, Casey kept the door open, but she also had a hard time breaking habits. Now that Winifred was living here, though, she kept it closed.
“In the car, you said I can stay with Lou’s mom. Can I go there now?”
Not until they’d talked a bit. When Casey’s marriage ended and she moved here, Summer was nine years old. They used to drink cocoa and talk through all sorts of stuff. But this child’s monster-under-the-bed worries had evolved into real-life hurts. Goodnight kisses and soft assurances wouldn’t make them go away.
“Can I eat something first?” Casey asked. “I’m starved.”
Summer hesitated, then shrugged off her backpack and slumped into the rocking chair. Cheyenne sniffed at the guinea pig cages.
“I didn’t know you owned makeup,” Casey said.
