Oh, yeah, Patty was mad. A great laugh wasn’t the only thing Tuesday had inherited from her grandmother. Seems both Knowls women had a fiery temper.
“What about the house?” Tuesday inquired.
Patty sighed and invited Tuesday to sit on the bed. When she did, Patty wheeled herself closer and picked up her granddaughter’s hand.
“I’ve found a townhouse in Leisure Village I like. I made an offer, and it was accepted.”
“That’s wonderful,” Tuesday said and smiled.
Patty offered her one in return even though it was evident Tuesday’s wasn’t real. She was putting on a show to cover the pain she felt about losing what she considered her childhood home. There was no missing it, therefore, Patty hadn’t.
“It is. The movers will be at The Manor this week to pack up my personal belongings.”
“Do you need me to pack the rest? Will you be having an estate sale?”
With each word Tuesday spoke, my heart was breaking for her. I hoped to God, Patty would not allow her to pack up the house for her.
“No, my sweet girl. The rest is staying, for you. Anything you don’t want, it’s yours to do away with.”
“Mine?”
“The Manor is yours, along with everything inside.”
“Gran.” Tuesday’s voice was strangled. “I can’t.”
“You can, dear. It’s yours. Whether you receive it after my death or now. And, personally, I’d rather be alive to see you enjoy it.”
“It’s too much,” she whispered.
“Nonsense. Your grandfather worked hard. Harder than any man I’ve ever known. He did so because he wanted to give to those he loved. This is what he’d want. I know, because we discussed it. He knew how much you enjoyed visiting us. It was his greatest joy watching you dress up and dance in the ballroom. He could watch your smiling face for hours, and he did. He watched you in the kitchen baking your first apple pie and ate every last bite on his plate even though you forgot the sugar, and I swear it was the tartest pie I’d ever tasted. But he did that because you made it. You smiled and giggled the whole time you were slicing the apples the two of you had picked from the orchard. That tree is still there. It’s meant to be yours. For you to make a home and carry on the tradition of love and happiness.”
There it was, everything I’d thought was correct. Tuesday’s grandfather had given his love and done it in abundance.
“Gran,” she repeated.
“That home served me well. It will you, too. I want you to have it, Tuesday. I want to see you in it. I want to watch you dance again. I want to be invited over for Sunday dinner and eat your apple pie. I want this and it is not for you to turn down an old woman’s dying wish.”
Patricia Knowls had brought out the big guns. Emotional blackmail. Good for her.
“You’re not dying!” Tuesday blurted. Her spine straight and eyes leveled on her grandmother. “What about Dad?”
“What about him?”
They both had seemed to forget I was in the room and I momentarily considered stepping out so they could have their privacy. Before I could come up with an exit strategy Tuesday looked at me then back to Patty.
“Won’t he be upset? He’s your son, the heir, shouldn’t the house go to him? I mean, it will still be in the family, that’s all I want. I can’t bear to think about strangers in your house,” she admitted.
I knew it took a lot out of her to confess that to her grandmother. She felt selfish for thinking it and didn’t want to stop Patty from moving.
“Your father never loved the house as much as you do. Not even when he grew up in it. And don’t you worry about your father, this was how it was meant to be, how it was set up. It’s time for me to move on, dear. That house is too big for me. I haven’t been on the third floor in years.”
Tuesday still didn’t look convinced. So Patty continued, “Besides, your mother has made it clear she wants to live out her days in the sun and surf. She’s perfectly happy in Hawaii, and I think she should stay there. It’s my house, and I get to choose to whom I’m going to leave it. I’ve never asked anything of you, my sweet girl. Give me this. Nothing will make me happier than to see you in that house.”
Tuesday glanced at me again, and I was surprised how conflicted she looked. “What’s worrying you, Sweetness?” I asked.
“You heard her,” she whispered.
“She will not get close to you, baby.” I tried to assure her. “Besides it’s not up to her who gets to live in the house. And I think your grandmother has made it clear who she prefers.”
“Who is her? And what did she say?” Patty’s tone had changed from sweet old woman, albeit not a happy one since her son had spilled the beans, to a seriously pissed off woman.
“Um,” Tuesday started then stopped.
“Gladys,” I told Patty. “In her call last night, she informed Tuesday she was not pleased about The Manor. And expressed her displeasure by telling Tuesday she’d bring her down. I then had a brief conversation with the woman where I explained to her she was not to contact Tuesday until Tuesday reached out. Where she then informed us, she would be seeing Tuesday soon.”
“You spoke to Gladys?” Patty asked.
“I did.”
Her face lit with humor before she roared with laughter ending on a snort. “I’m sure that was hostile.”
“You could describe it as such, yes.”
“Tuesday, you let me deal with your mother and my son.”
“Excuse me,” a male orderly called from the doorway before Tuesday could answer Patty. It took me a moment to place the man.
“Yes, Randolph?” Patty answered.
Randolph, that was his name. The man from the bar who’d been hitting on Tuesday and wouldn’t take no for an answer. We hadn’t talked about him or if she’d known him.
“I wanted to remind you there’s a bridge game scheduled for this afternoon.”
He was talking to Patty, but his eyes were on Tuesday.
“Tuesday,” he greeted.
Yeah, I didn’t like his stare on my woman one fucking bit. I walked the few steps needed and put my arm around her waist and pulled her close. I didn’t give the first fuck I was acting like a caveman. Randolph’s eyes dropped to my hand. His eyes narrowed, not missing the claiming gesture.
“Hey.” She added a smile, but it was worth noting, she hadn’t tried to pull away.
“Thank you, dear, but I have an appointment this afternoon. I won’t be making the game.”
“Sure.” Randolph gave me one last, hard look—or at least he tried—but it looked more like he was constipated than tough before he turned to leave.
“I know the way!” a woman screeched from the hallway.
Tuesday went solid and Patty’s eyes widened.
“Ma’am. All visitors need to be announced,” a second voice demanded.
“I do not need you to announce my visit to my mother-in-law.”
“Shit,” Tuesday whispered.
A woman stormed into the room, the clacking of her heels stopped, and her gaze zeroed in on Tuesday.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she accused.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the woman was.
“Get out,” I demanded, stepping between Gladys and Tuesday.
To say Gladys was not what I’d expected was an understatement. Tuesday was tall and willowy. Thin without being overly, great legs and ass, perfect smile, and beautiful, shiny hair. Gladys was short, squatty, and unattractive. She dressed like she was the one walking the runways but didn’t have a single ounce of Tuesday’s beauty.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Knowls,” a nurse said from behind Gladys.
“You should be. I want this . . . this . . . man out of my mother-in-law’s room. I cannot believe for the amount of money you charge you would allow such filth to enter,” Gladys sneered.
“I was speaking to Patricia.” The nurse corrected. “Would you like me to call security?”
“No, thank you, Emma. I believe Jackson can escort her out when I’m done with her.”
The nurse left and Gladys’s face pinched into a look of disgust. “Really, Tuesday? This?”
“Tuesday, dear?” Patty called.
“Won’t you please step outside and let me speak to your mother for a moment?”
“I’d prefer to stay, Gran.”
“I know you would, but the conversation is going to be unpleasant. As your grandmother, I’ve always promised myself I would never speak unkindly about your mother in front of you. To keep that promise, I’ll need you to step out.”
“I came here to speak to my daughter, Patricia.” If I wasn’t mistaken, Gladys had turned a shade or two paler.
“I’m sure you did. That’s always been your way. You like to corner my granddaughter because you know she is kindhearted despite having you for a mother, therefore, she wouldn’t dare tell you to jump off a bridge. But you stormed into my room causing a ruckus. You wanted trouble, and you’ve found it.”
“I don’t have to stand here and listen to an old woman—”
“Watch it, Mother.” Tuesday stiffened in my arms.
“Or what, Tuesday? Don’t you think you have enough problems right now?”
“Come on, Sweetness. The faster your grandmother speaks to her, the sooner I can toss her out on her ass.”
“I cannot believe—”
“Yes, you can. What you won’t believe is I don’t give a shit what you think of me. You are a nobody. Absolutely meaningless in my life. Tuesday and I are gonna give Patty the privacy she’s requested, then you’re gone.”
Patty’s gaze hit mine, and she nodded. “I’ll be right outside, Patty. But if I hear one nasty thing come out of her mouth, I’m coming in and dragging her out.”
“I appreciate it, Jackson.”
I gathered Tuesday in my arms and started to walk to the door but she stopped as we neared her mother.
“We’re done. I hope you know that. We haven’t ever had a loving relationship, but we’ve both managed to tolerate each other. After this stunt and your last threat? We. Are. Done.”
“It was not a threat. I’m warning you, little girl, I will burn your life down. You think what that dumbass Travis did stung? That pissant didn’t even have what it took to follow out a simple plan. I will destroy you,” her mother said, snickering.
Tuesday was vibrating, and Patty sucked in an audible breath from the other side of the room and stood. I didn’t know if Patty was supposed to be standing after her hip surgery, but it seemed she was more than capable of doing so and was more than willing to put herself out there for her granddaughter.
Tuesday was right, we were done. Gladys was leaving.
24
Tuesday
I felt like I was floating on a cloud of fury and devastation. Jackson was guiding me back to my grandmother’s bed, but I couldn’t feel my feet.
Simple plan?
What did my mother know about Travis’s plan?
I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing, my own mother threatening to destroy me or her knowing about what Travis had planned and saying he hadn’t been able to follow it through. How much worse could it have been?
“Out,” Jackson demanded.
“You cannot—”
“I can and I am. Get. Out.”
“Patricia said she—”
“Don’t care about that either. Either you step out, or I’ll put you out.”
“You wouldn’t dare put your hands on me. I have more attorneys—”
My grandmother moved to the side of the bed and picked up my hand. The gesture was comforting, it always had been, but it did nothing to alleviate the hurt my mother had caused.
“You don’t have anything, Gladys.” My grandmother started, not letting go of my hand. “I never thought I’d have to say this in front of Tuesday, but you’ve left me no choice. I never did see what my son saw in you, other than what you gave him on the first date. Easy, that’s what you were. A gold-digging ninny then, and you have been every day for the last thirty-some-odd-years. You’ve lived off what my husband afforded his son. You’ve taken everything and the only thing you’ve given this family that’s worth a damn is my granddaughter. But you’ve treated her like garbage since the day she exited your womb. Jackson’s correct, you’re done. You’ve stepped over a line, this time, I will not ignore. Either you inform my son he should call me, or you may tell him yourself he is no longer welcome in my home so long as you accompany him. As for any future money you or he thought you would inherit from my estate, it’s gone. I certainly hope you can make what’s left of George’s trust last, because you will never see another red cent from me or mine ever again. The house is Tuesday’s. You and George have always known it was to be willed to her. Yet you stormed in here as if you have a claim to it. You have the nerve to threaten my granddaughter. When I say you’re done, Gladys, I mean that in every way possible.”
“You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do with my daughter,” my mom spit out, bending at the waist toward my grandmother. “I’ve put up with thirty years of you thinking you were the queen of this family. You always bossing George around. The will’s already drawn up, and the trust has been filed. We’ll just have you declared unfit before you can change it.”
A cruel smile played at Gran’s lips. “I thought you and my son would try something like that.”
“What does that mean?”
Had my mother always been this shrill? The answer was a resounding yes. She was nasty to me ninety percent of the time, the other ten percent she’d been decent was only because Gran or my pop had been around.
She had always been a bitch. Gladys treated everyone as if they were beneath her, especially the people I’d worked with in the modeling industry, and she’d acted, in particular, as though Meredith was lower than dirt. Yet, another reason I couldn’t understand why she was taking her side now. She’d always despised the woman, and blamed Meredith for her money train ending.
But I had never, not a single time, heard her speak to my grandmother this way. I’d overheard her bitch to my dad about why he allowed me to spend so much time with his parents, even though she didn’t want me around. She’d thrown a fit when, after speaking to my grandfather, my father had changed his mind about sending me off to boarding school. However, to Patty’s face she was sugar sweet, fake through and through. It was disgusting to watch. I’d always thought it was out of respect.
It wasn’t.
It was greed.
She thought she would come into Gran’s fortune.
What a bitch!
“The papers have been drawn up; you and George get nothing. I’d rather leave everything to an animal shelter. At least I’d know the bitches who inherited it would appreciate it.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Jesus, woman, stop screaming,” Jackson told her. “Patty’s said her piece. This conversation is over.”
He moved to stand in front of her, and she stepped back.
“This isn’t over,” she threatened.
“God, mother, haven’t you said enough? You’re embarrassing yourself and me.”
“You ungrateful bitch.” She turned toward me, and I flinched at the hate that shone on her face. “After everything I’ve done for you. All you had to do was stand in front of a camera and you couldn’t even do that right. Your career would’ve been over years ago if it weren’t for me.”
After all these years, you’d think I’d remember that my mom didn’t love me. She never had. But each time she spewed her venom, I’d have forgotten, and her sharp tongue would slice deeply. Even years of scar tissue couldn’t stop the pain her words caused.
“What does that mean?”
“It means, you were stagnant. You were yesterday’s news. And you weren’t doing anything about it. Meredith saw it, I saw it, even Travis saw it. But not you. You were too busy living with your head in the clouds, letting your career tank. Someone had
to step in and make you relevant.”
My insides started to burn. “You didn’t!”
“Nothing makes you relevant like a scandal. Everything was almost perfect, all Travis had to do was get one sex tape out on the internet and your career would’ve exploded, but he got camera shy. And the videos of the men we sent to you would’ve been a goldmine, the media would’ve eaten those up, but that idiot Lambert had to get involved and ruined everything with his PIs and computer experts and had them deleted before we could leak them.” She squared her shoulders and smiled. “You should be thanking me.”
The scorch quickly turned to ice. A sex tape? I was going to be sick. My own mother had worked with Travis to cook up a scandal, and she thought I should thank her? Naked pictures were still floating around of me, and I should thank her for that? Her own flesh and blood had been violated and stalked. Harassed.
I was going to kill her. I was off the bed and on the move. “Did Meredith know?”
“Who do you think came up with the idea?”
“You bitch!” I lunged at my mom.
Jackson grabbed me and swung me into his arms. A bone-deep cold settled over me, as my shitty life flashed in snippets behind my eyelids. My mom screaming at me on my sixth birthday because I dropped cake on my dress and embarrassed her. It was done away from the guests, of course. When I was ten and I couldn’t memorize all the state capitols, I was stupid. At sixteen I was fat. Seventeen when a boy asked me out on a date, she called me a whore when I got back from the movies. At eighteen I wasn’t working enough. More photo sessions. More runway shows. More money. More, more, more.
“Why does she hate me?” I whispered.
“She doesn’t, Sweetness, she hates herself. She’s so jealous of you she is overwhelmed by it.” Jackson rested the side of his face against mine. So close our air mingled. “Patty, can you come here and sit with her while I escort Gladys out?”
“Yes, dear.”
My grandmother’s sweet voice filled my ears as Jackson sat me on the bed. Gran took slow tentative steps and sat next to me, her frail arms wrapped around me and all I felt was her love.
Claiming Tuesday: The Next Generation Page 15