Two to Tangle (Thirsty Hearts Book 6)

by Kris Jayne

  We finished going over the twelve-month account plan I’d drawn up, and I promised to get the two of them set up in a project tracking software with all of their tasks tied to their virtual file storage. Then, there were a few more back-office systems to set up and legal paperwork to organize.

  Once the foundation was in place in a few weeks, I could turn the whole thing over to him and be finished with our business arrangement. I was glad to be done with the paid portion of our relationship, so we could keep things strictly personal moving forward.

  Around noon, I closed my computer and set it on the coffee table in the family room in the rental house that I’d made my office. I grabbed a quick lunch, then called Katerina before class to talk about the latest wedding planning to dos.

  “Did Adrian’s uncle help sort out what Clarissa needs for the catering?” I asked, flipping my screen from “Project Griffin” to “Project Nuptials.”

  “Yes. Hold on.” Katerina shuffled items, and her voice faded before she came back with a fuller answer. “There’s a market in town that can help her source what she needs. There’s an extensive staff kitchen in the main house, and a smaller kitchen near the tasting room. When we visit in a few weeks, Clarissa can figure out which will work better. Everything is shaping up. Are you still able to come with us?”

  “That’s the second week next month, right?”

  I opened my master calendar. The work I was doing for Griffin was wrapping up more slowly than I’d expected now that he was also helping his father. I also had a client in Dallas whose new furniture and organizational materials had arrived. I’d be flying back for a week to set her up, then, coming back to North Carolina. The simple life I wanted when I left my job had grown more complex in recent weeks.

  Kat must have interpreted my silence as bad news. “That’s okay. Adrian’s mom can come, and then, um, Grandma offered.”

  “No. I can make it. I have it scheduled. I’m set to buy my ticket this week. I know your dad can’t come, so I’m there. Besides, Grandma Johnston is a handful. She’ll have a ton of ideas on how to make yours the perfect wedding for 1964.” I laughed.

  “Not Grandma Johnston.”

  Silence stretched over the phone line, and I tried to imagine I’d misheard. “What? You mean my mother.”

  “Don’t be mad, but we bought her a ticket.”

  “To France?” Zola had said nothing about this yesterday. Could she even get a valid passport?

  “She said she wanted to go. I thought it would be fun.”

  I knew Kat’s finances inside and out. She lived comfortably as a college student, but she didn’t have buy-an-extra-ticket-to-Europe money.

  “We?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s not really us. Adrian’s mom—”

  “Absolutely not! Katerina! You can’t have Adrian’s mother buying airline tickets and paying for things for Zola. If she wants to go and be helpful, let her figure out a way to manage it. She’s an adult.”

  The fury pushed my pulse until my head pounded, and I couldn’t see. What the actual fuck? My mother was now tricking my daughter into getting her future in-laws to pay for trips to Europe?

  “Adrian’s family knows that she doesn’t have as much money and wanted to help. It’s not a big deal,” Katerina said.

  She sounded like she was explaining something to a toddler having a tantrum, which only amped up my anger. I squeezed as much calm as I could into my voice.

  “If you were hell-bent on bringing her with you, I’d have paid for her ticket. I don’t need your in-laws to give my family money,” I replied, swallowing the bitter taste rising in my throat.

  Kat’s speech slowed with even more infuriating patience. “I would’ve asked you, but I knew what you’d say. We thought it would be easier this way. They don’t mind—”

  “I mind,” I snapped, pressing the heel of my hand to the creased gap between my brows. “If I’d known we’d look like the poor church mouse family who can’t afford plane tickets, I’d have paid for it. That’s not a problem. Or you could have asked your father.”

  “I did ask.” Katerina’s voice grew quiet. “He said no.”

  Of course, he had. The question itself probably sent him to a cardiologist for blood pressure medication. “That’s because he knows like I know, and like, God help me, you’re going to find out that Zola swoops in with her promises and seeming like she just wants to be helpful, but she always has an angle.”

  “What angle could she have for helping with the wedding?”

  “I’m sure she’s got some plan somewhere. Just wait. Once she gets a taste of how generous Adrian’s family wants to be, I’m sure she’ll start dropping hints about her bills or needing a new car or a new house.”

  “We already helped her with a new place, and she’s paying us back,” Kat said.

  My mind jumped back to the conversation I’d had with Zola and how happy she was to be in a new apartment. She’d made such a big deal of having her life settled and not needing anything from me. Of course, she didn’t. She had Kat and Adrian and his parents’ French aristocracy money.

  “You’re how she got the money to get her things out of storage and move. God, I haven’t even met the De Selvas yet and we’re already in debt to them.” I clutched the neckline of my sweater.

  “They didn’t give her that money. Adrian did. They don’t even know about that. He had some extra money left for the semester.” Katerina’s exasperation intensified through each word.

  “He gave her student loan money?” I tightened my voice to keep from screaming.

  “No. His parents give him an allowance for each semester. He earned money from his internship, so he had extra,” Kat said. “She had to get her things out of storage. She has some heirlooms in there. The money got her things and set her up for a few months while she gets her job situation set.”

  “Kat!”

  “She’s going to pay us back $50 every other week as soon as she starts working. She’s waiting to hear back on a job right now.”

  “She has a job,” I informed her, and I could tell this was news to Kat. “She’s waitressing.”

  “Well, then she’ll start paying us back. Plus, she’s helping me with the wedding. She knows musicians and photographers.”

  “Meaning she has friends she’s inviting on her European vacation,” I shot back.

  I wanted to be sick. How the hell was I supposed to face Adrian’s family at the wedding and when Kat and Adrian had kids and at every other event until the end of time after my mother pulled one of her disappearing acts owing them thousands of dollars?

  Embarrassment kicked a hole in my gut. “Oh, my God.”

  “I know you’re upset, but honestly,” Kat paused and strengthened her tone. “Mom, it doesn’t really have anything to do with you. This is between us and Grandma Z.”

  “‘Grandma Z?’ Isn’t that cozy?” I snorted.

  “It’ll be fine. She has a plan to pay Adrian back, and France is a gift. We know what we’re doing.”

  “Kat, this isn’t just between you guys. It’s between all of us—Adrian’s family and our family. And when she ducks out like a thief, that will reflect on our side. She did this to your dad’s family. Did he tell you about that when he told you he wouldn’t give her the money?”

  “No, but—”

  “It was my graduation, and she claimed to be buying me a big gift. She collected over three grand from all these people. Your dad’s parents, his friends, mine, and then, she skipped out before my graduation—with the money, mind you—and I had no idea.”

  My chest heaved, remembering the horror of it.

  “We get to the graduation party at your dad’s fraternity house, and everyone thought she’d be there presenting the gift. She was nowhere to be found, and neither was their money. I’ve never been more humiliated, except for maybe when she showed up at your Grandma Johnston’s house a week later for my bridal shower high as a kite. At least then, we knew where the money went
. Up her nose or in her lungs or however she was doing her coke in those days. I’ve never heard the end of it. You heard your grandmother on New Year’s Day. It can stain your entire relationship with your new family.”

  “I love Gigi, but she’s snobby. Adrian’s parents aren’t like that,” my daughter insisted.

  “She’s taking advantage of you.”

  “No one is taking advantage of me because we’re not giving anything we can’t afford to lose. It’s worth it to me to try with Grandma Z. If she makes a fool of me, then she does. I’ll survive,” Kat answered.

  “You don’t know how she is.”

  “No. I don’t know how she was. You don’t know how she is,” my daughter challenged. “All the drugs and stuff was a long time ago, Mom. I know what drug addicts look like, and she’s just a lonely woman who needs help. Dad didn’t tell me what happened, but she did when I asked why she wasn’t at you and Dad’s wedding. She said she wasn’t invited, and I asked why. That really hurt her, but—”

  “It really hurt her? Nice—”

  “Just listen!” Kat yelled, then sighed. “It hurt her, but she understands why. All she wants is to be in our lives. What’s wrong with helping family? You always say, ‘Family is everything.’ Now, you’re being judgmental.”

  I bit my lip to keep from remarking how much Katerina sounded like her “Grandma Z”—denying history and the evidence in front of her because she wanted the story to be different. Kat was so stubborn, which she got from me, and sure of herself, which she got from her father. The combination meant there was nothing I was going to say that could change her mind. There was nothing I could do to keep her from getting hurt. Pain shot through me.

  “I’m being realistic, but you’re going to do whatever you’re going to do. How much was the plane ticket?” I asked.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do. Send me the amount and the De Selva’s address. I’ll reimburse them.”

  “Mom—”

  “Don’t. If you want to let Zola back in your life, fine, but we’re not taking the De Selvas’ money. Period. That’s not up for discussion.”

  I wrote down the amount and added sending them a check to my to-do list.

  As soon as I hung up with Kat, I signed into my banking app and sent the De Selvas a check. Then, I called Zola.

  While the phone rang, I worked to quell the burn of rage in my chest, firing like a rocket. Finally, she picked up, and we exchanged brief greetings before it launched.

  “How dare you take money from Katerina’s fiancé and his family? What’s wrong with you? Are you hellbent on ruining her relationship with them the way you tanked mine with the Johnstons?”

  She mumbled a curse. “I didn’t take it. I needed help. They offered. You make me sound like a thief.”

  “But you did take the money,” I charged. “Is it so hard to say no? Tell Kat, ‘I’m a grown woman, and I’ll figure it out. I’m not taking money from children. Or from your future in-laws because I have some pride, and I’m not going to make our family look like needy vagrants.’”

  The line went so silent I had to check the screen of my phone to make sure we were still connected.

  “You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” I pressed.

  “I do. I want to make sure you have all your piss and vinegar out before I say anything,” she responded.

  I crossed my arms and paced from the living area to the adjacent kitchen. “Great, so this is where you tell me I’m being mean and unreasonable.”

  She snorted. “No, this is where I tell you to mind your own damn business. If I wanted you to listen to you tear me a new one over my money situation, I’d have asked you for help.”

  “I know this is a foreign concept to you, but children are their parents’ business,” I shot back. My throat constricted, and hot tears swelled, threatening to fall. I pressed the back of my sweater cuff to my eyes.

  “You like to tell me I’m grown. Well, so are you, Delilah. I wasn’t there for you. I know. You hate me. I know. But my friendship with Katerina doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m trying to get along with you for her sake.”

  “This is what you call trying to get along?” I asked.

  “No, but I didn’t call you.”

  I erupted again. “Of course, you didn’t. You know what? You’re the worst kind of selfish. You float through life without taking responsibility for anything or anyone, but when you need something, you think being family gives you the right to take what you want.”

  “That’s not how it went down. You weren’t there.”

  “So tell me. How the hell was it?” I growled the question.

  “If I owed you an answer, you’d have it,” she sniped with a condescension she hadn’t earned a day in her life.

  I leaned against the counter, nauseated. “That’s what you said about my father the last time I asked. Do you remember? You said, ‘You can keep asking the same questions, and you’re going to get the same answers. If I owed you more, you’d have it.’”

  I remembered her exact words even if she didn’t.

  My mother’s tone turned brittle. “One of these days, Delilah, you’ll get the memo that you’re not in control of everybody and everything. Some shit just don’t work out the way you want, and you don’t get a say or get to know why. That’s life.”

  “Oh, I got that lesson. Trust me.” Heated anger still coursed through my blood, but I was tired. “Don’t ever take money from Katerina or her in-laws ever again. Do you hear me? You think I’m mean now? You don’t know how nasty I can be.”

  My mother’s coarse laughter mocked me. “You’ve got nothing to do with my life. What can you do?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered with honest exasperation before sliding into the same deadly cold, zero-fucks tone she’d given me, “but do you wanna give me a reason to figure it out?”

  And I hung up the phone.

  Chapter 22

  Delilah

  By the time Griffin got home a few hours later, my anger had evolved into hurt, and I felt no better.

  He slipped behind my chair at the kitchen table and gripped my shoulders, massaging his thumbs into my neck muscles. “Do you want to tell me what has you looking like a dragon about to torch the village? Or do you just want a drink and a kiss?”

  His attempt at humor dulled the edges on my mood a fraction. “How about you kiss me, then I tell you what happened while you pour me a glass of wine?”

  I tipped my head up, and he leaned in, brushing his lips across mine before settling into a soft, warming kiss. He ran his thumb along the ridge of my ear and tugged on my lobe before letting me go.

  “What happened?” he asked, turning to grab a couple of wine glasses.

  I recounted my conversations with Kat and Zola, adding an overview of my mother’s history with money. The waste, the bankruptcies—two—and my refusal to loan or gift her any more money.

  Griffin set two glasses of Malbec on the dark maple breakfast table and sat next to me. “Well, that’s why she went to Katerina instead.”

  “Of course.” A sip of red wine doused some of my irritation.

  “But she is an adult, and I don’t know how you can stop Katerina if she wants a relationship with your mom.”

  “I just don’t want Zola taking advantage of Kat.”

  “She’s headstrong. Zola can’t do anything to her that she couldn’t handle. If she felt like she was being used, she seems like the kind of person who’d have no problem telling her grandmother to go to hell,” he said. “Probably not in those words.”

  “Normally, she does it in exactly those words, but there’s this curiosity she has about my mother. And there’s a part of me that has always known how similar they were—even though Kat never knew her. She’s more risk-taking and brash than I am and definitely more like that than Terrence.” I sighed.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? She’s not irresponsible. She’s just not afraid to mak
e her own way.” Defensiveness seeped into Griffin’s tone.

  Katerina wasn’t the only one who sometimes reminded me of Zola. But Griffin’s situation was completely different. Griffin hadn’t abandoned his family—just separated himself from them. The stories he told me about his younger years or the dating roulette I witnessed when I worked for him, he’d moved past that. Hadn’t he? He was here with me.

  “It is a good thing. I admire that about her and anyone who isn’t afraid to throw out convention for something better. It’s the ‘something better’ part where my mother gets lost. Everything with her is a downward spiral.”

  “That’s what my father used to say about me.”

  My brows knitted. “How could he look at your life and see a disaster?”

  “It’s all relative, I guess. Maybe that’s what makes me want to give people the benefit of the doubt. We all want a chance to grow up and change.”

  “You’re in your thirties. She’s in her sixties. Slight difference.”

  “And my dad is in his sixties. A part of me still wants him to change. Should I give up?”

  “No. Your dad wants a relationship with you.”

  “He could start with an apology.”

  “Men like your dad will always struggle over ‘I’m sorry,’ but I can tell he’s glad you’re home. I’ll bet with more time together, you two can figure out how to have a relationship. If that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t even know.” Griffin shook his head. “For once, we’re not talking about my craziness. We’re talking about yours.”

  I winced. “That exciting, is it?”

  “Sorry. I’m glad to give you advice for a change.”

  “Which is?”

  “Your mother’s behavior doesn’t have anything to do with you. I know you’re worried that Katerina’s in-laws will think ill of her or of you, but if they can’t see the difference, then they’re ridiculous. We all have that relative who’s a problem. Hell, there are plenty in my family who think I’m that black sheep.”