For All She Knows (Potomac Point #3) - Jamie Beck Page 0,83
in pain, and she would not be okay until he was better. “It was the very least I could do, Grace.”
She met my gaze—hers tinged with bitterness—then looked away. I sipped my coffee to buy time for my thoughts to settle. The silence—so unusual for us—killed my appetite. And I’d rarely let a doughnut go uneaten.
Grace set her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “I don’t know how to do this, Mimi. I can’t look at you or Sam without feeling angry—at you, at him, at myself. I resent you both so much, but hate myself most of all. And yet I don’t have time to indulge in and work through these feelings—the anger and the missing of what was. I have to be strong for Carter, but all I want to do is crawl into a hole to cry or find a way to turn back time. Why him? Why did this happen to my son?”
With a trembling hand, she swiped away the lone tear trailing down her cheek. Amazingly—or simply in Grace’s usual way—her posture remained poised and her voice steady. Meanwhile, inside, I was simultaneously dismayed that she’d admitted all that, and falling apart because of it. My mistakes hadn’t hurt only Carter; they’d hurt my friend and her entire family. No wonder she didn’t know what to say to me.
“I don’t have any answers, Grace. I’ve been beating myself up for leaving those boys alone with alcohol as a temptation. In hindsight, I see how letting them drink other times sent mixed signals. Even though I wasn’t home, I bear some blame for what’s happened. I know that’s cold comfort because it doesn’t help Carter now.” I pressed my fingertips to my temples to ward off a sudden headache. “I’ve been desperate to keep Rowan happy ever since Dirk left. He misses his dad so much, which makes me feel damn guilty. But that’s not a good excuse for bad parenting.”
Her expression grew more distant—almost miffed. “Dirk called me last week.”
“He did?” My eyes practically popped out of my head. Dirk had never warmed to Grace, whom he’d labeled uptight almost from the get-go.
She nodded. “I didn’t speak with him.”
Of course not. She’d never appreciated what I’d seen in Dirk aside from his face, which I’d always thought had a Gerard Butler kind of sex appeal. “What did he want?”
“Who knows what he was really after? Probably to make sure that I didn’t have plans to ruin Rowan’s life. But he mentioned your custody arrangement and asked if I had any insight that would help him decide whether to revisit that.”
I gulped. Literally—like a full-on cartoon gulp. My words came out on a whisper. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I told you, I didn’t speak with him. He left a message, and I never returned the call.” She took another bite of the doughnut, her gaze flicking toward the window.
She’d protected me despite everything—a sign that we could salvage our friendship. I might’ve smiled if Dirk’s agenda didn’t trouble me. I slumped back into my seat. “Lord, that man. He ignores Rowan for weeks at a time and then has the gall to think he’d be a better parent than me? Thank you for taking my side.”
With no bitterness or malice, she said, “I didn’t do it for you. Or for Rowan. I simply don’t have the interest in or patience for dealing with your ex, or any bandwidth to think about the fallout of all this on your family. Not when my own is on shaky ground.”
Each of her words landed like a sharp jab, but I couldn’t blame her for her honesty. If I were in her shoes, I might feel the same. I didn’t know. That was the thing about trying to put yourself in another’s shoes. You could never know how you’d take that walk if forced to, and I selfishly hoped I’d never have to try on this particular pair.
“I’m sorry that seeing me is painful. I’m really sorry that this situation is causing problems with Sam. And I don’t mean to make any of this about me. Honestly, that’s not my intention when I ask for updates, despite my own guilt about what happened at my house. You’re my best friend. We all spent so much time together when the boys were young I feel like I half raised Carter. It kills me to see him in that bed. I feel helpless and desperate, like you.”