Dark Redemption - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,42

turning in for bed. I have a new novel waiting for me."

Mom has always been an avid reader. She devours the books and reads across genres and styles. She stays up to date on what's popular, what's on the charts, and she reads obscure literary fiction and short story collections as well. "The entertainment that books provide are far superior to television," used to be her go-to line.

When I get back to my room, I find Jacqueline under the covers. But as soon as I shut the door behind me, she pushes outward and I see that she's been watching something on her phone.

"What are you doing hiding underneath there?" I ask.

"I don't know. Just felt like I needed a warm hug."

"I think everyone who's ever interacted with my mother had that same feeling," I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

I take her hand in mine and intertwine our fingers.

"She really likes you."

She sits up, surprised.

"And I don't say that lightly. She really likes you," I say. "It's uncanny, and actually, it's making me question whatever it is that we have."

"What are you talking about?" Jacqueline leans forward, clearly not getting my sense of humor.

"Okay, not really, but it's very disarming, to say the least," I clarify. "Mom has never been a big fan of most women. And she has hated Marguerite for so long that I was just certain that she would hate you as well. But my, my, my, you have managed to make an impression."

"Holy shit. Really?" She puts her hand over her mouth.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" she asks, mumbling through her hand.

"That's what she told me."

"Even after she caught us almost doing it?"

I nod. "Yeah, it's shocking. I have no idea what happened, but whatever you said, whatever you did, keep it up."

"I just tried to be polite and nice and told her about myself."

"Well, one thing's for sure, tomorrow morning, Marguerite is in for a big surprise."

The following morning, Jacqueline gets up a little early, takes a shower, washes her hair, and puts on a little bit of makeup.

She doesn't have anything else to wear, and is a little frustrated by the fact that she has to wear the same black dress.

She begs for me to drive her over to the cottage so she can change, but I insist that that's just going to make her look either like she's desperate to make a good impression, or like she had packed a bag and brought it here intending on a longer-term stay.

Heading downstairs, I wear shorts and a short sleeve button-down shirt, just dressy enough for a family breakfast to not make it look like I'm eating in my pajamas, but not really much above that.

In the kitchen, we find Mom sitting in a long silk robe with a newspaper open in front of her.

“Huh, I didn't realize that those are still getting delivered."

Mom straightens it out to show me the front page. It's the local Hampton Times.

"Just trying to see what's new in the neighborhood. Hi, Jacqueline," she says, waving to her.

After a brief hello, Jacqueline goes to the fridge to get some orange juice, offering to get my mom a glass as well.

The two of them sit on opposite sides of the table, and Mom puts down the paper and immediately launches into telling Jacqueline about the newest fundraising goal for her new foundation.

And then, looking at them from the outside, it suddenly occurs to me why Jacqueline has made such an impression on my mom. Marguerite has always been tense. She took some etiquette classes, but even in employing them and putting them into practice, there's something unnatural and awkward about it.

But Jacqueline is a chameleon.

She sits up straight, even though she often slouches. She crosses her feet at her ankles. She doesn't put her elbows on the table, and she looks Mom straight in the eye.

She listens actively, comments slightly, and lets Mom lead the conversation. Not necessarily to suck up, just to fit in.

That's when I realize that Jacqueline has quite a gift for acting like she belongs somewhere.

And if she can make this impression on my mother, someone who is notoriously impossible to please, as her six other husbands would attest, I wonder how good she could be infiltrating Vasko’s operation.

25

Dante

When Lincoln and Marguerite come downstairs, I immediately see the smile on Marguerite's face vanish.

She tenses up, and everything about her body language starts to work on the short circuit in my mom's presence. There are brief