Rich Blood (Jason Rich #1)(35)

“You were the only normal family we had,” Nola said, her voice practically monotone compared to Niecy’s. “We always looked forward to seeing you, because you actually stood up to Mom’s BS.”

Jason didn’t know what he was more surprised by, being referred to as “normal” or the difference in Nola’s and Niecy’s demeanors.

“I was a junior in high school the last time you were here,” Niecy said, her tone still intense. “I was looking at colleges, and you said you’d love to show me Davidson, where you went. We even talked about meeting up for spring break in the Carolinas and looking at a bunch of other schools. Remember that? Wake Forest. UNC. Duke. Maybe even the College of Charleston. A road trip with my uncle Jason . . .” Her lips began to quiver again. “You remember?”

Jason did. He closed his eyes, thinking back to Christmas three and a half years ago. He’d been excited about Niecy’s college choices, and they’d mapped out a trip, clearing it with Jana and Braxton.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jason asked, but he knew what she was going to say before the words came out of her mouth.

“I did call. I left you messages on your cell and office phones. Emails. Facebook messages. And you know what I got in response? Nothing. Zilch. Zero. Squat.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I—”

“Don’t call me that. Don’t call me anything. Don’t even look at me.” She brushed past him without looking. “Nola, I’m going out. If you want to come with me, let’s go now. I’m not going to hang out with this loser any more than I have to.”

“Niecy, wait,” Jason said. “Please. Stop. I went to see your mom in the jail.”

Niecy stopped on a dime and turned toward him. She placed her hands on her hips. “And?”

“And she wants me to represent her.”

Her laugh was high, sounding off. Almost hysterical. Jason wondered when was the last time Niecy had gotten any sleep. He noticed that her eyes were red rimmed, probably from fatigue and crying. “You? The billboard PI lawyer? Isn’t a criminal case out of your league?”

Jason raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m on the prelaw track at Southern. I’m going to be an attorney too, Uncle Jason. But not a snake oil salesman and ambulance chaser like you. I’m going to be a corporate lawyer. A real attorney like Paw Paw.”

“Good for you,” Jason said, growing tired of her act. “Is that ‘snake oil salesman’ a line your mom used? Or perhaps you heard your grandpa call me that.”

She didn’t answer.

“There’s no telling what you’ve heard about me.” He looked back at Nola. “Well, you can bet that ninety-nine percent of whatever your mother has told you is a lie.”

“So you’re not an ambulance chaser?” Niecy challenged.

“I’m an attorney who represents clients who’re injured in accidents. I’ve obtained almost $30 million in settlement money for my clients.”

“Put it on a billboard,” Niecy said.

“I did,” Jason said. “It’s on the one on Highway 431 that you pass every day when you go into town. Any other suggestions?”

At this, Niecy cracked the faintest of smiles. “If you’ve stayed away from us all these years because your life was in shambles and you can’t handle Mom, if Mom is such a liar, then why would you even think about taking her case?”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Why indeed.

“My suggestion would be that you give that some more thought. Come on, Nola.”

Niecy stormed out of the room, and Jason heard the front door slam shut. He felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Uncle Jason,” Nola said. She started to go, but Jason called after her.

“Nola, wait. Is anyone staying here with y’all?”

She stopped and rolled her eyes. “Technically, Aunt Cathy is.”

“What do you mean, ‘technically’?”

“She’s eighty-seven years old and can’t get around that good. She’s been here two or three times in the last week but only stayed the night once, and she said she can’t do that anymore because she almost fell.” Nola shrugged. “Aunt Cathy’s nice, but it’s not like she was close to our family. She’s just literally the closest living relative. That is . . . besides you.”

“So y’all have been alone this whole time?”

“Burns comes by every day. Brings us takeout. Lets us hang at his house and watch movies. We spent the first couple of nights after Dad’s death over at his place in one of the guest rooms. He’s been really great.”

“I’m glad,” Jason said, feeling relieved that they at least had someone to watch over them and guilty that he’d been out of contact until today.

Several loud honks from a car horn pierced the air, and Nola cringed. “I need to go. Regardless of what Niecy said . . . I’m really glad you’re here.”

Jason peered at the teenager, the hurt radiating from her eyes as his own guilt intensified. He wanted to say, “Me too,” but he knew it would sound like a lie.

Because it’s a lie, he thought.

Nola walked away before he could respond.