"Is this drug money?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"Mother. She's reimbursing you for her tuition."
"Hmmph." She weighed it in a disdainful hand, obviously recognizing she'd lost her position on the high road. "But how is it going to look, her staying here?"
"Like we live together?"
"Oh, Sterling." There was a wealth of disappointment in her voice, but there was something else entirely in her expression. Melancholy. Regret, maybe. Wistfulness?
It churned things up inside him. Anger. Pity. He wanted to hate her for hurting his Dad, yet wondered at the same time if she'd given up feelings for Grady to stay with her husband. Bottom line was, she was his mother. He was going to have to find a way to fit her into his life. Their lives. And she was going to have to fit Paige into hers if he was going to have any chance with her at all.
"Too bad she has reservations about continuing our relationship," he said, as Paige came into the room with the bag from the drug store.
Paige halted the way people do when they realize they're being talked about. "What?"
Sterling heaved a big sigh. "Give up the idea of grandchildren, Mom. There won't be anyone to carry on the Roy name or take over the legacy of the factory. Might as well sell Granny's china, too. It's not likely to pass down through the women the way you always wanted."
His mother's nostrils flared. She wasn't stupid. She had enough sense to realize she was in line for a decade's worth of making reparation.
Raising disapproving brows, she asked Paige, "Why on earth would you hesitate to continue your relationship with my son? Don't you know what a catch he is?"
"I'm aware there's a catch, yes." So blithe. He adored her.
His mother's chin went up, her eyes narrowed. "Of all the women he could have chosen, he has chosen you. And he has excellent taste. I'm sure he'd prefer to see you in something other than his jacket and those sloppy pants. I'm surprised at you, Paige. You usually turn yourself out better than that."
"My house burned down."
"I brought clothes from the thrift store. There was another bag. Let's put everything away and see what we find." His mother walked out and Paige glared at him.
He shrugged. "She'll grow on you."
"Like a fungus."
~ * ~
Hell hath no determination like a woman whose son has been scorned. Paige was exhausted and glad to see the back of both mothers an hour later. Making herself some tea, she was looking forward to curling up on the sofa under Sterling's quilt again, hiding from the gale coming through the hole above the kitchen sink.
Lyle had brought back the cutest box window, the kind that begged for herb pots and a suncatcher. The men would be busy installing that for a while, leaving her time to review her notes on the audit and plan her next steps.
She would probably binge-watch a sitcom instead.
But as she poured the hot water into the teapot and glanced out the space over the sink, she saw Olinda pulling up in front of the charred remains of the house.
Great. More visiting. Paige went to the back porch and waved at her.
"Oh, honey," Olinda said, staggering into Lyle's cars as she looked over her shoulder while making her way toward Paige. "Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would look like that. You said it was gone, but-" She took Paige in a hard hug.
Tears sprang to Paige's eyes. Silly, but if there was a blessing behind this horror, it was realizing how much the people she loved, loved her back.
"Are you all right? Why on earth were you still there?" She kept one arm around Paige and viewed the destruction. "Well, I guess that answers the question about whether the house will be sold or not, doesn't it? I know you kept the insurance up to date," she said with a tilt of her chin that said, Don't you dare say I'm wrong.
"I did." Paige released Olinda and drew the edges of her periwinkle cardigan together. It was itchy if it brushed her skin, but cozy over the yellow cotton turtleneck Evelyn had picked out for her. "I just made tea. Would you like some?"
"That would be divine." She checked her step as she saw Lyle come around the side of the house.
Lyle gave her a cold stare. "Thanks for your help the other day. I understand you were the one who told Sterling I was stealing."
"Don't start," Paige said to him, guiding Olinda into the house ahead of her.
"Still blaming me because Dad kicked you out?" His voice carried through the hole above the sink.
"He did not kick me out!" Olinda marched to the sink and leaned across it to glare at him through the window opening. "He was having an affair. I left."
"He threw you out for hitting his kid. I would have done the same."
"You were taking money from my purse. What was I supposed to do? Let it keep happening? Apparently you still haven't learned that stealing is wrong."
Paige stared at her friend. At the woman who had been a big sister and a mentor and there for her in a million ways that her mother hadn't been capable of. She wasn't unfamiliar with these accusations, but as a pre-teen desperate for a stable adult in her life, she'd accepted Olinda's explanation, half believing Lyle had brought Olinda's anger on himself.
Now he growled, "Dad had his fingers in your purse. And he knew about those invoices. I don't steal. So how about you admit you were wrong and apologize."
"Just you watch yourself," Olinda shot back.
"Why? You can't fuck up my paychecks anymore, can you?"
Paige touched Olinda's arm, trying to ground out the firestorm between these two, pouring out two cups of tea while her mind churned through old, harsh memories.
"You know what he was like," Olinda excused, letting Paige pull her toward the parlor. "Absolutely wild. Your father wouldn't admit he was seeing someone else. A saint would have lost control." She dabbed fingertips beneath one eye.
Paige looked into her cup, not interested in drinking it anymore. She wanted to believe it was stupid to be suspicious of Olinda after one dark reminder of Olinda's temper, but now she kept thinking of how single-minded Olinda was. How she wasn't a stranger to getting her way however she had to get it.
"Did you go straight home last night?" Paige asked, settling onto the sofa.
"Yes." Olinda perched on the recliner. "But I was upset and couldn't sleep so I drove into Lasser for the all-night bingo. Do you need a ride back to Seattle?"
"No, I'm staying here."
"In town?"
"Here." Paige pointed at the floor. "With Sterling."
Olinda made a noise as she leaned to set her mug on the coffee table.
Paige wanted her to smile and hug her, tell her she deserved to get the boy she had crushed on in high school. Instead the older woman lifted cynical brows.
"So you're going after a share in the factory the old fashioned way?"
Chapter Thirty-Three
No, Paige had insisted, but Olinda's remark was still bothering her days later. Was that how it would look if she stayed with Sterling? Why did she care?
Was he even thinking they would get that serious? The things he'd said to his mother about grandchildren had been pure jackassery, spoken to get a rise out of Evelyn. He wasn't thinking about marriage.
Was he?
She was back to taking things one day at a time.
The days were pretty good, all things considered. At least having her father's power of attorney let her fill out all the forms to get the insurance rolling on the house, but with the police investigation ongoing, they weren't likely to settle anytime soon.
Evelyn dropped by daily, which was annoying, but she never came empty handed and it was always something genuinely useful: hair dryers and closet organizers, a coffee grinder or an umbrella. At work, Walter only showed up for an hour here and there and signed off on anything Sterling asked, so at least that was peaceful. Sterling steered the ship and even Olinda had shut up about the audit after her initial surprise that it was still on.
"I thought you said Grady's share was gone?"
"Are you going to look a gift horse in the mouth?" Paige asked her.
"I suppose not. What do you need?" Olinda grumbled, leaving to locate the files Paige requested.
Then there were the evenings when the men might work on the renovations for a couple of hours, good-naturedly trash talking each other, or Sterling might take her out for dinner, or Lyle might leave for a movie with Zack, giving her and Sterling the house to themselves...
Those evenings were the best because they didn't have to stifle their moans. But even the early mornings when they lazily rolled together and joined bodies, working up a sweat from suppressed, near tantric lovemaking, left her delirious.
Life was good. And if she was almost finished with the audit and facing a big decision, well, she was ignoring that for the moment and enjoying what she had.