“I know.”
“Down-to-earth, and not terribly jaded about it considering what he’s put up with. And now this mess with you.”
Meg’s eyes prickled, stung with unshed tears when she drew her hands away. “Mom.”
“Tell me something, princess. Why Spike? Huh?”
“Funny thing is, right now, I can hardly remember. I think I just wanted to do what people didn’t expect of me. I didn’t want to be predictable. To marry the handpicked blue blood like all the other girls in my old clique did. I wanted my own identity, and all I got was a lot of stress and heartache. He really is a disgusting human being.”
Mom shrugged. “I didn’t want to be the one to say it.”
“Didn’t have to. Stephen certainly voiced his opinion enough.”
“Can’t argue that. Can I tell you something you probably don’t want to hear?”
“Go for it,” Meg said with a sigh. “I’m low enough. What’s a bit more weight on my heart?”
“Oh, stop. Stephen told me that night of the fight, Seth got into it with Spike over Spike not terminating his paternal rights during the divorce, especially since he was being such a twerp about the DNA stuff.”
“Did he?” Meg dragged her shirtsleeve across her wet eyes, and now the tears flowed freely. Who gave a shit? It was just Mom.
“I still don’t know why they met, but knowing Spike I can put two and two together. Everything Spike does is for attention, and if not that, money. Maybe he even sees Toby as a ticket to cash some day, but Seth was more concerned about day-to-day things like whether he’d legally be able to add Toby as a beneficiary to his life insurance, or if he’d have to seek permission from Spike if he ever wanted to take Toby out of the country.”
“He told you that?”
“Stephen did. And he’s pursuing it, your brother. He’ll pester Spike until he does the right thing. At least in his mind. He worries about you. Always has. Couldn’t wish for a better big brother for you…even if he’s been somewhat dodgy and hard to pin down lately. Would someone please tell me what’s in Bermuda that has him burning through frequent-flyer miles at an unholy clip?”
Meg shrugged. “Don’t know.” She really didn’t. She’d never known her brother to be so secretive, even for a lawyer.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure, exactly, but can you be clear on something for me?”
“What?”
“Are you actually…condoning this?”
With some effort, Mom stood up from the low box and picked through the toy-strewn living room. After fetching her abandoned coffee mug from the counter, she turned to face Meg. “I don’t agree with the scheme. No. I wish you had said something to us. I don’t know why you think you have to keep secrets like this. First Spike, then your pregnancy with Toby. Now this?”
“Mom, please spare me the too-much-class speech.”
“Well, it’s true. And it’s not because of the money. You wouldn’t have the friends you have if they thought you had money.” She rinsed her mug, and poured the last of the ultradark Colombian roast into it. “My point is, your father and I raised you not to have to struggle, and you’ve been doing nothing over the past ten years but struggling. Maybe not financially, but emotionally, which in my opinion is far worse. I feel like I should shoulder some of the blame for it. Was there some way we could have raised you differently?”
Meg blew out a breath. “That’s just my nature, Mom. Always has been. I’m that woman who’ll try to climb the outside of a building because she doesn’t realize there are stairs inside.”
“You’re destroying yourself.”
“That’s what my shrink said. We were making great headway before my insurance lapsed. He thought I didn’t value my own existence.”
“Do you? Because, you know, Megan, there are a bunch of people who love you and are glad you’re on this Earth. Not just me and Daddy and Stephen, but Sharon and Carla love you, too.”
Yeah, they did. And Erica, too, in her overbearing Latin way. Meg grinned at the thought of how Erica had shouldered her way in a week ago and laid out this fabulous buffet of dishes Meg had never seen the likes of, and that she and Toby had stuffed themselves with for four days straight. She hadn’t said anything. Just enveloped her in the hug she needed and let her cry it out.
When Meg was done and had wiped her eyes, Erica had whispered, “I told Curt, and he’s in a mania. Won’t stop doting. I’ll just hide here for a few hours. Maybe he’ll fall asleep pacing.”