I was Helen. I was Analise.
My throat still couldn’t work. It had swelled shut. Shame and guilt crushed my windpipe.
But Logan was waiting. I saw that little boy in him, the same one Mason told me stories about, the one who would sit outside his door waiting for his big brother to leave so he could follow or steal his bag for attention. He stared at me now, waiting for my answer.
I reached forward and grasped his hand. “Thank you,” I choked out. I nodded, in case he couldn’t make out my words.
He let out a relieved breath and sat on the floor by the bed.
Courtney and Grace were in the doorway with questions in their eyes. They didn’t know what to do, but Heather did. She moved past them and held out a beer to Logan. He took it, and she sat next to him with her own. The two saluted each other, and the three of us just settled in as Courtney and Grace slipped away.
Logan had his back against the bed, right next to where I lay. Heather sat beside him, and I kept my hand touching my phone.
I had done this. Now I had to fix it.
I couldn’t be like our mothers.
Is Logan there? He’s not answering his phone, but Taylor won’t tell me where he is.
Later that night my phone lit up, and I looked over. Logan was curled in the corner. Courtney and Grace didn’t have anything for him to sleep on earlier, so he made them drive him to a nearby store since they were sober, and he was not. He bought a cot, a sleeping bag, and a travel utility bag.
He set everything up, and he now slept soundly. He’d refused to move to the living room. Heather asked what his girlfriend would think, and he replied without hesitation.
“She knows what it’s like to lose a family member.”
The conversation was dropped.
He’s here. Refuses to leave. I texted.
You’re okay having him there?
Yes. I hit send, then paused with my fingers over the buttons. I typed out, I think I fucked this up. I did a Helen.
You didn’t. I did a James. I’ll fix this.
How?
We need to talk still. We can talk about it then.
Okay.
Love you.
So goddamn much.
So goddamn much.
I put the phone away, and Heather was right. I slept the rest of the night through. When I woke, I knew—I was ready to talk.
“Sam?” The next evening Courtney knocked on the open door.
Heather and I looked up from where we were lounging on the bed. Logan was at Taylor’s, and Courtney faltered in the doorframe, scratching behind her ear.
“Um, there’s a lady here to see you.”
“Me?” I gave Heather a look, starting to put my pen and book away. “She didn’t say who she was?”
“Helen or something?”
My eyes found Heather’s again. Helen?
Heather raised her eyebrow and scooted to the edge of the bed. “You want to talk to her?”
I shrugged and stood, hugging myself. “I guess.”
Mason and Logan’s mother never sought me out. A red alarm blared in my ears, but I went down the hallway to the door. It was closed, so I guessed she was in the hallway.
I opened the door and stuck my head around. “Ms. Malbourne?”
Dressed like she’d been out at a benefit, she wore a cream-colored shirt and wide-legged pants. They looked like a skirt, but I knew they were slacks because she stood with her legs apart. Her hands rested on her hips, one shoulder propped against the neighbor’s wall. I also saw a slit that ran underneath her arm, showing some skin. It was a very sexy, but also classy look.
My eyes lingered on her pearl necklace.
I forgot Mason and Logan’s wealth. When I was with them, they rarely mentioned it, or dressed to proclaim it. James didn’t either. He was authoritative, but he didn’t exude his place in society. And, somehow, Helen emanated it so well in just one look.
She did so now, pursing her lips together at the mention of her name. A slight flick of her hair, and she gestured to me. “It’s Helen by now. I think it’s time we had a talk, yes?”
I moved forward slowly, letting the door close behind me. I kept my hands touching it, crossed behind me, in case I wanted to go back in at a second’s notice. Mason and I might not be together, but I knew he’d come in a heartbeat if I called.
But even as I thought that, I knew I wouldn’t.
No matter my status with Mason, I had to get along with their mother. If she deemed this the time for a real talk, so be it. I only hoped no one drew blood, and feeling that small amount of bravery, I tipped my head up and gazed steadily at her.
She smiled slightly, like she’d been waiting for me to make that decision. Her hand pressed to her hair, keeping it in place. “Should we go somewhere more private?”
I didn’t have to think about it. “Here’s fine.”
A dry glimmer of humor showed in her eyes before she masked it, her lips pressing together again. “Okay.”
Then she stopped.
I waited. She’d come to me, but she didn’t say anything. I narrowed my eyes. Was I supposed to start?
“You’ll have to give me a minute,” she finally said. “Coming here is, well, humbling to say the least.”
Her hand rested on her pearls, and I saw the intricate detail of her nails. They were long and shimmering, matching her pearls and outfit. Everything about her had been exquisitely put together.
She mused again, almost to herself, “Logan told me that you and my son have broken up.” Her hand fell from her pearls and began to play with the diamond bracelet around her wrist. It was like she didn’t know she was doing it. Her eyes lingered on me, narrowing slightly. “I had an epiphany when I heard that.”
A soft chuckle came from her, but her lips never moved. It was like a ghost laughing beside us.
“I’ve always hated you,” she said, her eyes downcast. “What your father said was true. I blamed you because you’re Analise’s daughter, and she took my family from me.” She lifted her face now. “But if I’m being honest with myself—and my sons will attest that I hate being honest with myself—it wasn’t your mother at all. It was James, and me. He destroyed our family, and I let him, but I have been blaming you in the back of my mind ever since.”
This wasn’t news to me.
“And I haven’t cared one iota what that did to you. I’m not one of those mothers like Malinda. No. James has a type. He likes the cold types, and I’m one of them. It’s perhaps why my sons are the way they are. They can be cold bastards at times, can’t they?”
My lips thinned. “Did you have a reason to come here?”
She raised her chin, elongating her slender throat, and smiled. Almost. It was gone in a moment. The cold disdain never wavered from her eyes.
“My epiphany was that while I don’t care for you, and I never will, my son does. He will never waver from his love, and I am here being the most motherly I’ll be in a long while. I don’t know what happened between you and Mason, but I would like you to fix it.”
I almost laughed. Almost. “You’re telling me to fix it?”
She nodded. “Yes. I am.”
I couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore. “Who do you think you are?”
Helen squared her gaze at me. She didn’t bat an eyelash. She didn’t flinch or look away. I could see some of Mason and Logan in her, and while I loved those qualities in them, I hated them in her. She replied, so smoothly, “I am the mother of two boys you love infinitely. That’s who I am, darling. Who are you?”
I raised my own chin. There was no flinching from me either. “I’m family.”
An approving look swept through her eyes, but she checked it, the coldness coming forth again. “Then do as I say. Fix it.”
“No.”
Her eyes widened, just a fraction. “No?” The beginning of a smile started, but it was just a tease. She kept it in check too.
I would see Mason. It was time to talk to him. I had already decided to, but I would not be ordered to do it. I would not be ordered at all.
“You may have birthed them, but you don’t give me orders. That’s not your place.”
“I’m their mother.”