Letting Go by Molly McAdams Page A

everything you should have been doing. All the while you were bringing guys into the house like it was a fucking whorehouse. Marrying any of them who gave you more than a night, spending money we didn’t have on them when they had these crazy ideas, only for them to split as soon as they had the cash. And now you have a baby and you don’t even know which one of your many guys is the father, and what do you do? Come to me over and over again for money. I paid you long enough until I found out that none of that money was even going to Keith, and now once again I’m doing your job and making sure your child is fed and clothed while Charlie’s watching him for you. That is how I can be so ‘cold,’ as you put it.”
    “Don’t act like you do so much for him, you don’t even see him,” she spat out.
    “I barely see him because I’ve been in a different city, and now that I’m home I don’t want to risk seeing you. But if you really believe that, just ask Charlie. I’m there whenever I’m sure you’re not going to be around, which is a hell of a lot more often than it should be.”
    “Screw you, Jagger.”
    “Nice, Mom. It’s time for you to go.” Not waiting for her to say anything else, I walked over to the door and opened it, doing a double take when I looked outside. “Are you kidding me? Is this yours?” I asked, pointing to the brand-new Escalade.
    She straightened her back, and walked toward me without actually looking at me.
    “You’re gonna come in here and ask for a couple grand, when you have that? You’re going to force me to keep buying clothes, food, and diapers for Keith, and you fucking have that !” Before she could say anything or pass me, I shot my arm straight out in front of her. “Key.”
    Mom looked at me like I was nothing. Nothing to her, nothing to Charlie, nothing to Keith . . . just nothing. With jerky motions, she took the key off her key ring and slapped it into my hand. “It was a gift,” she snarled as she passed me.
    “Yeah, I bet it was. If it’s from soon-to-be husband number seven, don’t bother telling Charlie and me about the wedding. We won’t be there.”
    Without a look back in my direction, she climbed into the SUV and took off.
    I slammed the door and locked it and stalked back to the couches, when my phone started ringing.
    Grabbing it just before voice mail picked up, I answered without looking at the screen, and growled, “What?”
    There was a pause before: “Wow. You’re doing worse than I thought you were.”
    I glanced at the screen for a second and tried to talk normally as I began pacing. “Have you heard from her, Graham?”
    “No, but Mom talked to her yesterday.”
    “And?” I prompted when he didn’t continue. But from his dejected tone, I wasn’t expecting good news, and my anger quickly faded into the pain I had become so used to over the past month.
    “She’s not coming home yet, but Mom said she sounded good. Actually her words were: ‘Grey sounded great, happy even.’ So there’s that.”
    “Good,” I mumbled, nodding and dropping my head until I was staring at the floor. “That’s good.”
    “You don’t sound like it’s a good thing.”
    “No, it is. I want her happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
    “I know it is. I think if she’s doing good, and it’s been this long but she doesn’t have plans to come back, it’s time you go to her,” he said.
    I wanted to. I wanted to so damn bad that it took everything in me to force myself over to sit on a couch rather than grab my keys and leave for Seattle. But she was happy. “I can’t, Graham. You heard your mom, she’s happy. A month away from here and me, and she’s happy. I can’t take that away from her. When she’s ready to come back, she will.”
    Graham sighed. “I had a feeling you would say that.”
    “Then why call?”
    “Do you still love my sister?” he asked after a few silent moments.
    “Of course I do.”
    “Tell me something: if she