* * *
When Ophelia got home from school, her tangled curls were coated in a layer of melting snow.
“They already called a snow day for tomorrow,” she announced. “Mama, you want to go sledding? We know a great hill at the golf course!”
Kaitlyn said, “Come on up to my room, kid. I gotta tell you something.”
Ophelia shot a look to Melissa.
“Don’t look at her,” Kaitlyn said. “I’m your mother.”
“Let’s talk to her together,” Melissa said. “Please, Katie.”
“Not your business,” Kaitlyn said.
“Mama, can’t you say it in front of her?” Ophelia asked, her eyes worried. She picked up Teeny and held her close.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” Kaitlyn said. “Have a seat, Harminee.”
They sat at the dining room table, and Ophelia’s face was pale with worry. Melissa squeezed her hand, ignoring the evil look Kaitlyn gave her.
“Honey,” Melissa began.
“Let me do the talking, Missy,” Kaitlyn said. “Since she’s my daughter. Harminee, we’re going home. Back to Ohio, back to Mee-Maw and Pop-Pop and Granny and Gramps and all your friends from before. You and me will be living with Mee-Maw for a little while till we get our own place. We’ll be leaving Friday after school. Exciting, isn’t it?”
“I . . . We’re leaving? Forever?” Ophelia asked, and Melissa couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.
“Yes, honey,” Kaitlyn said. “Your aunt Missy has done a great job taking care of you while I was away, but we don’t need her anymore.”
“Melissa?” The poor kid sounded five years old. Teeny trembled in sympathy.
“I want you to stay,” Melissa said, her voice breaking. “Very much.”
“But she’s not your mother, so she can’t make that decision. It’s best for you to be with me, sugar. Maybe Aunt Melissa can visit sometime.” She paused. “You love your mama, don’t you? We’ve stayed in touch all these years, and I know you’ve had your share of complaints about living with Miss High-and-Mighty here. Two stepfathers in five years, that’s been hard, I know it.”
Ophelia looked at the table and bit her lip.
“What do you want, Ophelia?” Melissa asked.
“Don’t you put her in the middle like that!” Kaitlyn snapped. “She’s a minor child. She’s coming with her mother, because that’s how God and nature intended it to be. Her and me have been apart long enough, right, Harminee? We want to be together.”
“Can I go to my room?” Ophelia asked.
“You need a minute?” Melissa asked.
“Yes, you may go to your room,” Kaitlyn said. “Because your mama said you could.”
Ophelia slipped away from the table, still holding the dog, and picked up her backpack and coat from the back of the stool. They heard her footsteps on the stairs.
“Did you have to make that so hard?” Kaitlyn demanded. “You know you don’t have a chance in hell at keeping her. Why’d you have to tell her to make a choice? You think you can bribe my daughter into staying? Is that it?”
“Well, you sure as hell didn’t mind me taking her when you were in jail, Kaitlyn. Don’t go blaming me for wanting what’s best for her. How many times have you relapsed in your life, huh? What kind of life can you give her? What kind of job do you see yourself getting? What kind of place can you afford?”
“If you care so much, give us a nice fat check, Missy-Jo. You want your niece to live in a pretty house? Buy us one.”
“I thought you were above all that. Money doesn’t matter, it’s what God intended! You’re not getting a penny from me.”
It took more than an hour before either of them realized Ophelia was gone.
CHAPTER 29
Lillie
On the fourth day of my suspension, I installed a home security system. It was just the smart thing to do, since I’d be living alone for the rest of my days. Ben couldn’t stay in the studio forever, and . . . well, one kiss did not a commitment mean.
Which didn’t mean I was ruling out future kisses. But the smart part of me realized I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. Maybe some casual company. I wouldn’t be averse to making out a few times a week.
It was snowing pretty hard, a thick, wet snow, but my guess was that it wasn’t sticking on the roads. On a whim, I decided to visit my dad, who’d been oddly scarce lately. Also, I had some kale soup that was taking up too much room in the fridge, and Dad was a terrible cook. I texted him that I was coming over and asked if he needed anything. He didn’t answer. Old people and technology. I knew he wouldn’t be out on the water in this weather. Ben, unlike Dad in the olden days, always erred on the safe side. Of course, Ben’s father had drowned at sea, so his caution made sense.