“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I ask, pursing my lips.
“Yeah, because what Joanie didn’t know until today is that I made two sets of copies—one for her and one for me,” my mother confesses. “Honey, I have stuff on Conrad that could send him away for a long time. It’s the kind of damning evidence there’s no coming back from. It’d be an open-and-shut case. He wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”
“Worse than a sex scandal?” I inquire, keeping my tone light even though I’m floored by her revelation.
“A sex scandal? I’d say,” she chuckles like I’m a naïve little girl. “These Wall Street types don’t care who you go to bed with, but if you steal their money, watch out. And Conrad stole a lot of it. I think that’s why he’s always been so obsessed with his image because any whiff of misconduct and it wouldn’t take much for an investigator with some moxy to dig it all up, especially if someone started leaving a paper trail.”
“So you always planned on getting even with him?” I watch my mom get up, surprised that she had the audacity to hatch such a plan. “You just needed the opportunity.”
“I needed Joanie…in the right frame of mind,” my mom corrects me. “Conrad allowing her baby to go to jail was the last straw. She was more than willing to tell him that she hid a second set of documents in a safety deposit box. This way, Conrad will never even know that I was involved.”
“Wait…where are you going?” I ask as she grips the door handle.
“Joanie contacted the rehab treatment facility over in Smithfield, and she was able to pull some strings to get me in. Or should I say she blackmailed Conrad into giving her the money to pay for my stay as a little bonus incentive for keeping her mouth shut?” my mom ponders with an impish grin. “I’m checking myself in as soon as I leave here.” She collects herself, before looking over at me. “Because I want to get sober. So that one day, I might be able to meet my grandchild.”
I blink when I feel my eyes welling up. “You do that,” I respond, not making any promises.
“It was good seeing you again, Ivy.” She gazes at me fondly, like she’s taking a mental snapshot of me to hold on to. “See? Your mom isn’t such a flake after all. I might be a terrible mother, but no one threatens my Ivy’s life and gets away with it.”
“Maybe you can turn it around as a grandmother,” I reply, wanting to give her something to cling to.
“One good turn deserves another. I helped Joanie. Joanie helped me, and I was able to help you. It feels like the tide is finally starting to turn, doesn’t it?” she asks with a smile on her face.
“I certainly hope so,” I say with all the enthusiasm I can muster, watching her go. “Because we need it to.”
But she doesn’t hear me as the door swings shut behind her. Maybe she’ll change, maybe she won’t. All I know is I’m not getting my hopes up. Not yet, anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eric
I hate being away from Ivy, but I hate even more the sight of my best friend’s coffin sitting in the ground.
The sleet drips down my ears as I stare at the gaping hole before me. My dad comes over with an umbrella and stands beside me, but I brush him away. It’s too late. I’m already cold and wet—heartsick over regaining a friend only to lose him again.
“I’m glad that Ivy brought you two boys together in the end,” my dad says, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead.
We’re not good at sharing our emotions with each other. I either go off the deep end or shut myself off, and he takes everything in stride like nothing’s capable of ruffling him. It’s a frustrating mix, considering we’re both too stubborn to make the first move.
“So you forgive me now?” I ask, my voice sounding brittle and worn out as droplets of water start to bead on the cedar casket.
“There was nothing to forgive, son,” he responds, shifting toward me. “I just didn’t want another girl coming between the two of you again.”
“But you just said…?” I question him, getting mad.
“I know what I said,” he replies, affixing me with that look of his when he means business. “I saw that shiner you gave Tim, and I was conflicted. I was happy because it meant that you two were talking again, but I was disappointed that you were talking with your fists.”
“It’s how we spoke best,” I say past the ache in my heart.
“I didn’t like what Cassidy did to you boys, tying you up in knots, choosing one over the other. It wasn’t right.” He walks closer to the grave, his feet sinking into the mud. “I hope he’s at peace now. I never saw anyone pine over someone like he did for her.”