I nodded.

His frown remained. I felt my stomach knot up.

“Sundays . . . you leave here to see her, don’t you?”

I nodded again.

“The cookies,” he let out a laugh that held no humor. “And I thought you’d made them for some guy.”

“She likes cookies. And so does the staff there. I like to take them treats.”

He sighed and leaned back against the counter crossing his arms over his chest. “How much does the place cost a month?”

“It was six thousand. But I’m having her moved to a shared room which will decrease it to four thousand. She likes company. If I’d even known that was an option in the beginning I would have asked for that. But Portia had arranged everything and I had no clue. I was so grateful I didn’t question her. I also had no idea how much she was paying until this past week. Our deal was I worked and she gave me fifty dollars a week for gas and any other needs. The rest of my pay was to take care of Heidi. There were other places she could have put Heidi. I know I could find a more affordable home but she loves the people there. She’s adjusted. Losing mom was harder on her because she didn’t understand. Moving her from the only home she had known to live with strangers had been a huge adjustment for her. The idea of doing it again breaks my heart. I do not expect you to pay for that of course. I agree with you that it was too much. Especially now that I know how much it is. But if I could be allowed to work the second job, it will help.”

He didn’t say anything at first. I waited. I’d said all I could say.

“One last question. Why did you come here? To Portia?”

I wasn’t sure if Portia wanted him to know this part or not. But I was in too deep now. I had to confess everything. “My mother gave me a piece of paper with Portia’s name and address the day before she died. She was so sick. Her fever was high and she was delirious. She said the hospital bill would break us and refused to go. I thought she’d be fine at home, that she only had a bad cold. Then the coughing got worse. When she gave me the name and number and told me that if something happened to her to call that lady, I got scared.

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When she went to sleep that night, I called 9–1-1. They came and took her and she was admitted to the hospital. But it was too late. She was too far gone. The day after her funeral, the landlord told me we were behind two months on rent. He hated to do it, but if we didn’t pay he’d have to evict us. I packed up our things and we came here, not knowing what to expect. Portia looked at the note, and asked us to come inside. The next day Heidi was moved into her new home. I began work.”

I could see Jasper was questioning who my mother was and why Portia would help her. I did too. Maybe he could find it out because I’d had no luck. He didn’t appear angry though. Just lost in thought. Portia had been there when I needed her. I felt guilty telling him what had happened. It felt like I had turned on her. Not asked her for permission. She should have been warned, I owed her that.

“I know you and your mother have a strained relationship. But she was there for us when we had no one. I should have talked to her before I told you everything. It’s not fair that I didn’t.”

His lips tugged up in an almost smile. “Do you worry about everyone, Beulah Edwards?”

“No. Not anymore than anyone else does.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’d question that—did I just listen to you explain your life? You’re incredibly naïve. You can keep your second job. Portia isn’t in trouble.”

I sighed, relieved he was understanding. “Thank you. Can I make you breakfast now?”

The almost smile stayed in place and he picked up his coffee cup and handed it to me. “I make shit coffee. Can you make me some? Yours is better. And I’d like something to eat. I’m up early, so I’ll get dressed and come back.”

I took his cup and watched him leave. For the first time he arrived here, I didn’t feel fear clawing at my neck.

JASPER WAS FINISHING BREAKFAST WHEN Stone walked into the house. He was dressed in worn out jeans and a black T-shirt. I’d never seen him dress up like Jasper. He left every day, but I didn’t think it was for work.

“She makes damn good waffles. She puts some fruit cream stuff on them and there are strawberries inside,” Jasper told Stone as I took his plate.

“Sounds delicious,” he said with no enthusiasm.

“Could you bring one of those things for my charming friend here?” Jasper said with a roll of his eyes.

“Of course,” I replied and turned to Stone. “Can I get you coffee?”

He didn’t look at me, but nodded. “Juice too. Orange. Fresh squeezed.”

I left with Jasper’s plate before they began talking. I wondered if he would tell Jasper about my second job this morning. Maybe he had been waiting until it was awkward for me. That fit him. To be cruel.

I’d made several waffles, unsure who I would be feeding. So the only thing that took any time preparing Winston’s meal was squeezing the oranges in the juicer. Once I had his freshly squeezed juice, I carried his breakfast to the table.

“You’re going to have to discuss it with him sooner or later,” Jasper was saying as I walked back in.

“I didn’t ask you,” Stone replied.

Jasper smirked and turned his attention to me. “He’s always such a joy. Have you noticed that?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even smile. I placed his food in front of him and stood back to see if there was anything else they needed.

“I plan on staying around this morning and speaking with Portia. If you’d like to be present I’m fine with that.”

I paused then. He was going to talk to her about Heidi and me? Why she helped us? That meant he’d possibly get the answers I had been curious about myself. Not that I wasn’t thankful for all she’d done, but because she knew my mother. She knew her once and I wanted to know how. I missed my mother and had no one to talk to about her. No friends to remember her with. Bringing her up when I was with Heidi always confused her. I had tried that once and it hadn’t gone well.

If Portia knew momma and could talk with me about her, I wanted that. I wanted anything Portia could offer. Any link to her. “I’d like that,” I told him.

Stone stopped mid-bite, his fork almost to his mouth. “What did I miss?”

Jasper looked at me and it was as if unspoken words were exchanged. With just a look I understood his question and he understood my answer. I’d never experienced that before. “Just Portia being Portia. I need to lay down some rules for her to follow regarding Beulah—she also works for me. Mother isn’t remembering that is all.”

Stone turned his gaze to me and I saw the accusation in his eyes. He thought I had lied about my job. That I was hiding it. I had the urge to defend myself but I didn’t. What he thought of me didn’t matter.

“Meet me in the great room at ten. She’ll be in her whiskey by then I’m sure,” he said.

I nodded my head once, then left the room.

“You’ve got your own shit to deal with. Jesus, the drama. Stay out of mine,” I heard Stone say to him.

Jasper chuckled. “But yours is more fun to discuss.”

“Because you like to pretend your life is fucking peaches.”

“My life has never been peaches. But then neither has yours. Now, tell me. Has your mother picked out the engagement ring she intends for you to give Margot?”

Whoever Margot was, I felt sympathy for her. No amount of good looks and money could make living with Stone a pleasant thing. But he hadn’t mentioned my job. That was surprising. I had expected he wanted to get me in trouble. It seemed to be his way of doing things.

Thinking about that and poor Margot was pointless. I pushed it aside and thought of other things. Like how many nights I could go without sleeping only three hours before I crashed. I made myself a thermos of coffee and carried it with me as I went to the second floor to do the weekly dusting and changing of linens for beds that no one ever slept in.

The only real thing needed on that floor was dusting and the floors had to be swept. Everything else stayed spotless because no one was ever up there. Portia’s master suite was on the third floor. I only went up there when she was gone for the day. She liked her privacy.




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