counters to the electrical goods, it wasn’t somewhere I thought Janice was comfortable. She belonged in a country kitchen with scrubbed oak counters and a temperamental stove that she’d bitch about all the time because it never worked.
This place was way too modern for her, even if the stuff she made in here was beautiful and worthy of a restaurant.
It was like, I guess, putting Gordon Ramsay in a tiny, cheap ramen noodle place.
Just didn’t work.
I knew they were saving up for a little hotel on the Maine coast, and I knew exactly how it would look—like a doll’s house. All feminine and filled with fripperies. Lace and doilies and all that girly stuff Janice adored and which Anna, of the clean minimalist lines, loathed.
While she didn’t fit in this stainless steel nightmare, her food sure as hell did, and my stomach, which rumbled at the yummy notes of the meal she was preparing, gave my presence away.
So, when she looked up and caught my eye, her grin was instantaneous. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, but that smile made her so. She had bright blue eyes, hair the color of wheat, and round cheeks that were constantly bright pink. She always wore an old-fashioned pinafore, even if, beneath it, she was sporting yoga pants, and she made the best brownies I’d ever eaten in my life.
“You little champ!” she declared, hustling me into a strong-armed hug.
I laughed and squeezed her back just as I had Peter, then murmured, “I had a busy day yesterday.”
Her brows rose at my tone. “Want to talk about it?”
I nodded, but bit my lip as I did so, and it was hard looking her in the eye. I’d never really had an older female who I could talk about this stuff with. I mean, I probably would have been able to with Emma, but I always felt like she was too busy, and I didn’t want to burden her with my crap. Anna wasn’t interested. At all. But Janice? I knew she’d help.
“You want ice cream or fresh cookies?” she questioned, still peering down at me.
“Both?” I asked hesitantly, and her brows lowered warily—she knew I didn’t eat junk food. Well, I wanted to, but I couldn’t. My body was a machine, and unfortunately, I had to fuel it with the right food at all times or pay the consequences in the water.
“Okay, ice cream sandwiches it is. Take a seat.”
I did as bid, taking a seat at the kitchen table, which was an odd square with eight stools around it. The table was white with black lines on it, making tiny cubes. I often sat here while Janice was cooking, and Peter usually joined us when he wasn’t busy puttering around the house. He wasn’t just the driver, but the handyman who tended to the gardens and such.
When she brought out the cookies and the ice cream and set about making the treat, I knew I couldn’t wait. I knew I had to talk this out, so I didn’t wait for her to even take a seat before I blurted out, “I went back to my old neighborhood.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re originally from Fort Worth?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I-I wasn’t going to go, but I just had to. I was feeling antsy and like I needed answers.”
“Did you get them?”
“More than I anticipated.” I gulped. “My mom isn’t dead, Janice. She’s alive.”
She released a breath. “I know, sweetheart.” Her hand came out, and she patted mine. “It was in your file. Robert warned us all that you weren’t aware of the truth.”
For a second, I just froze, then I exclaimed, “Why would he do that? Why not just tell me?” Temper flared inside me, but even as it did, forming a mushroom cloud in my soul, I knew I couldn’t blame Janice.
How was it her fault?
She’d brought me under her wing, a stranger’s kid, a murderess’s kid—she hadn’t treated me any differently, and I knew, in this shitty world we lived in, if people did know, then they would judge me.
I bit my lip, unsure how I was feeling. A part of me wanted to cry, just to break down in tears and let go. But my mom hadn’t deserved the fate that had been handed to her. Confused and torn weren’t the words.
“I’m going to get rich, Janice. I’m going to make a million, just so I can fight to get her out.”
My anger didn’t surprise her, if anything, she reached over and shoved