Placing the card and ticket back into the envelope, I stood. “I have an errand to run. I’ll be back before your dad and Scotland arrive.”
“You should ask Helen to join us for dinner. We always have plenty of food.”
I kissed the top of my daughter’s head. She knew how to read me and push my buttons. “I will.”
The radio stations weren’t playing Christmas music yet, so I left the radio off, preferring the quiet to any upbeat tempo or sad songs. Why hadn’t Helen kept the ticket for her and Cassie? They needed the money more than I did. You’re the only one who didn’t ask. I was thankful Evelyn believed I had the ticket rather than going after the ailing, older woman.
Because Samuel told her I had it. Had he said that because he suspected Evelyn would hurt someone for the ticket? Had he feared for Cassie and his mom? It didn’t sit well with me he was willing to put me in the path of a deranged woman, but I’d also rather it be me than them. I’d never know Samuel’s reasonings for lying to the woman. It was also likely he went along with her plan, believing at some point he could overpower her, saving himself, his daughter, and his money.
Did it really matter now? The question filled my head as I pulled into Helen’s driveway. The answer was easy. No.
The moment I stepped foot on Helen’s porch, the door opened.
She was pale. Dark smudges were under her eyes. There was a weariness in her eyes and in her body. Her shoulders were rounded forward as if it was too much effort to stand straight. Her legs quaked.
“You’re sick.” I gently took hold of her elbow. “Let’s get you into bed. I’ll make some soup for you and—”
“I’m dying, Merry. That’s why I sent you the ticket.”
No. It wasn’t true. She felt like she was. She wasn’t actually dying right now. She was sick. Very sick. She’d get better. I’d take care of her and make sure of it. I led her to the recliner and helped settle her comfortably. “I’ll go make you some soup.”
She took hold of my hand, forcing me to remain still. “I need you to listen to me. I’m dying. The cancer is back and has spread.”
I shook my head, tears slid down my face. “Cassie needs you.”
“Honey, I don’t get a vote on the matter. The doctor said it could be a year or months. We just don’t know. I did know I wanted my granddaughter protected and taken care of. I know you’ll spend the money wisely.”
“It was Samuel’s money. It should rightly go to Cassie.”
“No, Merry it was mine. Now, it’s yours.” Helen fluttered her hand toward the stairs. “In a shoe box in my closet are lottery tickets I’ve bought over the years. You’ll see the Easy Pick numbers are always the same. My birthdate, my husband’s birthdate, and the day we got married. I never thought I’d ever experience that much pain again in my life as the day Edward died. I was wrong.”
She had experienced a greater grief, her son dying. “I’m so sorry, Helen. Evelyn, Lynne, will pay for what she did.”
“Nothing will bring him back. Not even all that money. I don’t want Cassie to have it. People will use her. It will destroy her. Cassie acts tough, but she is fragile. Without her father, she’ll be desperate for love, and someone will love her to get the money. I want her to have real love. True love.” She squeezed my hand.
“I’ll set up a trust for her. My ex-husband Brett is an attorney. He’ll help us do it or know who can.”
“Once I’m gone, you can. Right now, it hurts too much. My son died because of that money. I should’ve never told him I’d give him the ticket. He told me it would be better if he claimed the money rather than I do and he inherited it. The government would take more of the money. If he even got it. I should’ve known he’d brag about it and that it would ruin him. I don’t want that for my granddaughter.”
“Money doesn’t destroy everyone.”
“I know.” She locked gazes with me. “Eighteen is too young for all of that. I’m too old and tired to deal with it. I trust you, Merry. I know you’ll do the right thing for Cassie, you, and others. Please accept it.”
The money could help a lot of people. “I’ll set up a trust. Keep it private so no one knows.”
Helen smiled. “In your name. It’s better that way.”
“Fine, in my name. Cassie will get a scholarship to go to college.”
“If you can convince her of that, you’d have earned the money. The girl is stubborn. Says she wants to be an artist. She told me, ‘Artists art. They don’t school.’”
I snorted. “I’ll find some good art schools for her to check into.”
“Good. While you’re doing that, find yourself a new RV.”
“I’m not spending it on myself. It’s for your granddaughter.”
“My son owes you an RV. It was a promise to you he never should’ve broken.” She rapped her knuckles on the armrest. “The day he told me his brilliant plan for your mom, I wanted to throttle my boy. Money just shone too brightly for him. This lets him, in a way, make it right with you. Cassie would like to know that her dad did that. Made amends with you.”
“Okay. One used RV for me.”
“I know the perfect one.” Her eyes twinkled. “Been doing some poking around on the internet. Found you a beauty.”
“You’ve been doing a lot of planning.”
The humor faded in her eyes. “That’s what you do for the people you love.”
Tears blurred my vision. I hugged Helen. “Want to spend Thanksgiving with the kids? Raleigh is home and Scotland is on the way. We’ll pick up Cassie on the way.”
“If Bonnie’s invited, too. That’s another woman Samuel needs to make right with.”
“I know she wanted to go on a cruise.”
Helen cupped my cheek. “Let’s look into that. I’d like to know some of my son’s mistakes were corrected before…” She trailed off.
She didn’t need to say the end of her sentence—before she died. “I love you, Helen. Samuel was misguided at times. Had hare-brained ideas. One thing that couldn’t be said was that he didn’t treat his daughter well. He loved his daughter. You taught him how to love his child. It was incredible to see.”
Tears shone in her eyes. “Thank you. That’s all a mother wants to know. She done good with her children.”
I drew her into my arms and told her what her aching mother’s heart needed desperately to hear. “You done good.”
About the Author
Christina Freeburn has always loved books. There was nothing better than picking up a story and being transported to another place. The love of reading evolved into the love of writing and she’s been writing since her teenage years. Her first novel was a 2003 Library of Virginia Literary Award nominee. Her two mystery series, Faith Hunter Scrap This and Merry & Bright Handcrafted Mysteries, are a mix of crafty and crime and feature heroines whose crafting time is interrupted by crime solving. Christina served in the US Army and has also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. She lives in West Virginia with her husband, dog, and a rarely seen cat except by those who are afraid of or allergic to felines.
Mysteries by Christina Freeburn
The Merry & Bright Handcrafted Mystery Series
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING (#1)
The Faith Hunter Scrap This Series
CROPPED TO DEATH (#1)
DESIGNED TO DEATH (#2)
EMBELLISHED TO DEATH (#3)
FRAMED TO DEATH (#4)
MASKED TO DEATH (#5)
ALTERED TO DEATH (#6)
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