No Way Out - Fern Michaels Page 0,32
she was going to jump out of her skin. She knew they would be violating the “supervised” part of the visitation, but she didn’t think a movie with just the two of them would do any harm. Besides, she had to get away from Mitchel for a bit.
“Good idea, Mother,” Mitchel said with relief. He opened his wallet and handed her several twenties. “Buy yourself something nice.”
“I don’t need your money to buy myself anything. Besides, you need to hang on to your cash. You don’t have a job, remember?” She was seething.
Mitchel held his breath and didn’t respond. Besides wanting to scream at her, he wanted to strangle her as well.
“Come on, Jackson. Let’s go watch the movie.” He helped Jackson with his seat belt, and they both got out of the car.
“Movie runs for almost two hours. See you at three.”
Vivian didn’t answer.
“See ya later, Grammy!” Jackson waved, but his grandmother pulled away without returning his wave.
Mitchel walked up to the ticket window and handed the cashier one of the twenties his mother had refused. Mitchel leaned down, looked straight into Jackson’s eyes, and said, “We won’t tell anyone that Grammy went shopping. OK, sport?”
“OK, Dad!” He gave him a thumbs-up.
Anticipating Jackson’s next request, Mitchel intervened. “No popcorn. You just had a big lunch, and we’re getting ice cream later. I don’t want you to get sick. Then your mother will be really mad at me, and we don’t want that, do we?” Mitchel sounded reasonable for a change.
“OK, Dad, but I might have to have two scoops. With sprinkles!”
Mitchel chuckled for the first time in a while. His son was having a good time. Mitchel couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had had a day together. They went into the theater, and Mitchel let Jackson pick out their seats. Of course, it was all the way down in front, but Mitchel didn’t mind this time.
* * *
Vivian was furious. She didn’t care about the outlet stores. She just had to get away from the situation. Everything was unraveling. If Mitchel was cheating on Colleen with that, that woman, Lord knows what else or who else he was up to. And the drinking. She pulled over to the side of the road and burst into tears. Not since her husband had died had she felt like her calm and well-controlled life was slipping out of her grasp.
She must have been sitting there for several minutes because a patrol car pulled up behind her. “Oh Lord, now what?”
The officer walked up to her window. “You all right, ma’am?”
“Oh, yes, thank you. I just got a little weepy thinking about my late husband and thought it best to pull over.” Vivian could be a good liar when necessary. Well, it was partly true.
“You OK to drive? Do you want me to call anyone for you?” the patrolman asked.
“No, I’m fine. Really. I have to pick up my son and grandson at the theater in an hour. I might do a little shopping before I go. Retail therapy I think is what they call it.” She smiled at the officer.
He smiled back. “Sorry for your loss, ma’am. Try to enjoy the rest of the day.”
Vivian started her engine and headed toward the outlet shops. She failed to mention that her husband had been dead for twenty-six years.
Vivian stopped at the Cheesecake Factory and bought some cookies and cupcakes. She didn’t know why, but it seemed like a good idea. Then she spotted a shop that sold scarves and gloves and went inside. She picked a pink floral print and wrapped it around her neck. It brightened her face. The price tag said $35. She looked around for something less expensive and found one for $18. Glancing around the shop, she noticed that the two clerks were engaged in conversation. The price tags were secured with a simple gold safety pin, so she switched the price tags, taking the one she wanted to the cash register. If they spotted the incorrect price, she could fake it. How was she to know the tags were on the wrong items? Neither clerk noticed, and she handed them cash and walked out the door. Not only did the scarf brighten her face, it brightened her mood. She had given up on the Lord twenty-six years ago, and after what she had witnessed at the restaurant, she decided it was no more Mrs. Goody Two-Shoes for her.
She checked the clock on the bank