If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(94)

He squeezed my hand before letting go. “It might be the only edible thing at this point.”

Mo circled our feet.

“Mo has a fondness for shoe-leather steak, so it won’t go to waste. Besides, I didn’t really come here for the food, Eli.” I didn’t wink or smile or do anything that might be construed as teasing, so that he fully understood my meaning.

He picked up the plates. “I suppose we’ll have to try this again as soon as your family crises are resolved.”

That might never happen. “Or sooner. And next time I’ll bring ice cream.”

He grinned. “Then I’ll think up something to celebrate.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AMANDA

Mom was tucking a blanket around my legs in the master bedroom when Erin and Mo barged in. My sister sat at the foot of the bed. “Why are you in here?”

Mo scampered around their feet, exploring the one room that had otherwise been off-limits.

“Your sister needs more rest, so we’re trading beds for a while.” Mom stopped tucking and folded her arms across her chest. “She needs the extra space and pillows to get comfortable.”

“Wait.” Erin’s panic-stricken expression reminded me of Beaker from the Muppets. “So now you and I are sharing a room?”

“I’m as excited as you are, my dear.” Mom took an empty laundry basket and began stacking it with a few items of clothing, her brush, and other personal items. “Since I’m not as patient as your sister, you’ll have to clean up your own stuff and make your bed every day.”

My apologetic grimace didn’t register with Erin, who remained somewhat dazed by her new situation.

“Do you need anything else, honey?” Mom asked me.

“No, thanks. I’m fine. The contractions have subsided. Please, let’s all relax.”

Mom nodded and left the room, presumably to go “unpack” in Erin’s room.

“I’m sorry.” I reached for my sister’s hand. “You must rue the day you agreed to come live here.”

“It hasn’t been all bad.” Erin smiled with concern, squeezing my calf. “Tell me everything the doctor said.”

“I haven’t been a very good mother to Willa.” I patted my stomach.

“She said that?” A fierce scowl appeared.

“She didn’t have to.” I shook my head. “I was so proud of myself for filing charges and meeting with the FBI, but the stress took a toll. That plus my anxiety about confronting Lyle and Ebba distracted me from watching my diet and my body’s signals. But Willa’s fine now, and I won’t let that happen again.”

“I’m sorry this whole situation is ruining your pregnancy. I never wanted this for you, Amanda. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better sister . . .”

Where had that come from? “We agreed not to rehash the past, remember? Eyes forward?”

Erin cast a glance into the hallway, nodding. “It looks like this little scare melted the ice between you and Mom.”

“For now, anyway.”

She let loose a sigh. “Tell me about your meeting with the FBI. Can they prep you to keep your cool when confronting Lyle? He knows you hate conflict, so he’ll try to use your emotions against you or, worse, not believe your threat.”

“That’s moot now.” That blow smacked me again.

Her eyes went wide. “The FBI said no?”

I pushed the hair off my face. “Agent Crowley went for it, but my doctor says I can’t go to the Caribbean because of Zika and other pregnancy risks.”

“I never even thought about that, but nothing’s worth putting Willa at risk.” Erin kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs into that yoga crisscross position, then set her chin on her fists.

“I feel sick about it. I was counting on this plan getting all Mom’s money back. Without the OIA, there’s no upside. When this all hits the papers, Mom might really lose it.”

“Maybe not. I bet once the shit hits the fan, the fallout won’t be the boogeyman she’s making it out to be. Plus she’ll have Willa to focus on.”

“I hope so.”

“You did the right thing.” Erin rubbed my leg. “Mom can’t stay mad forever.”

I cocked a brow because our mom could hold a world-record grudge. “I’ll never stop kicking myself for being so gullible. You saw Lyle clearly. I’d been too busy soaking up his flattery to see the signs. I’ve been reading up on narcissism. It would seem I’m the attractive, affable type who nurses a narcissist’s sense of self-importance. At least until Lyle traded up for Ebba—whose sex appeal and bankbook and ambition would’ve better fed his own sense of grandiosity.” I sighed. “All this time, I thought him a charming, loving man who could be oversensitive and pouty at times. Not at all someone capable of devastating me, my child, and Mom. You’ve been dragged into this, too, and poor Kevin’s working on my divorce for free. This isn’t who I want to be—a burden on my family.”

“This is not all on you, and you’re not a burden.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed, her expression oddly pained. “No wife should have to keep her guard up with her husband. That’s on Lyle, not you.” She released my hand and swallowed hard. “It’s been a rough year because of Dad’s death. Even six months ago, we were more like acquaintances than sisters. But now look at us—united. Willa gives us something to look forward to, and something to fight for, too. Things look bleak right now, but we’ve got each other and our health. Together we’ll make it through, so keep the faith.”