Chapter 5
The next morning, I woke up early.
Five o’clock.
My shift at the hospital didn’t start until seven.
I had two hours.
I went to the kitchen.
Diane was already there.
Of course she was.
She was making pancakes.
Noah’s favorite.
She smiled when she saw me.
“Good morning, dear. Sleep well?”
“Fine.”
“I made extra. Blueberry. Just how Noah likes them.”
Noah came running in.
His hair was messy.
His pajamas were wrinkled.
Buddy was right behind him, nails clicking on the hardwood.
Diane’s smile faltered when she saw the dog.
“Ryan,” she called without looking away from Buddy. “We discussed this. The dog stays outside.”
Ryan walked in, rubbing his eyes.
“Mom, we agreed—heated house, big run. He can come in for breakfast sometimes. Just this once.”
“Once becomes always. You know that, Ryan. You always were a pushover.”
Noah’s face fell.
He looked at me.
Then at his dad.
Then he knelt down and hugged Buddy.
“It’s okay, boy. You can have my pancakes out there. I’ll eat with you.”
He started to gather his food.
“No,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
“Buddy stays inside. He eats at the table with his family. This is his house too.”
Diane set down the spatula.
“Emma, I really think we should discuss this privately—”
“No. We’re discussing it now. In front of everyone. Because this affects all of us. Especially Noah.”
I looked at my son.
“Baby, come here. Sit down. Both of you.”
Noah climbed into his chair.
Buddy lay at his feet.
Ryan sat opposite me.
Diane remained standing.
“Diane,” I said. “Last night you told me some things. About the will. About Noah’s… accidents. About how you’re the one who takes care of everything when I’m at work.”
Her expression didn’t change.
“I only meant—”
“Let me finish. You said Noah has anxiety. That he needs specialists we can’t afford. That the inheritance is the only way to help him.”
I turned to Ryan.
“Is that what you think too?”
He shifted in his chair.
“I think it would help. Yes. The best therapists are expensive. And Noah has been… different lately. Withdrawn. Quiet. It worries me.”
“Of course he’s different!” I said, louder than I intended. “He’s living in a house where his grandmother throws his things away, threatens to starve him, and makes him keep secrets from his own mother. He’s scared, Ryan. Not anxious. Scared. There’s a difference.”
Diane laughed sharply.
“That’s absurd. I adore that boy. I’d never hurt him.”
“Then why did you tell him not to tell me about the bedwetting?”
Her eyes flickered.
“I told you. To spare you—”
“Or to make him more dependent on you? To make him feel like he can’t come to his own mother with his problems?”
I looked at Noah.
His eyes were wide.
“Baby, look at me.”
He did.
“You never have to keep secrets from Mommy. Ever. About anything. No matter what anyone tells you. If something scares you, or makes you sad, or if you just need to talk, you come find me. Day or night. At work or at home. Okay?”
He nodded slowly.
“Okay, Mom.”
“Even if Grandma says it’s our secret?”
He glanced at Diane.
Then back at me.
“Even then.”
“Good.”
I turned back to the adults.
“Now. About the dog. Buddy stays. Inside the house. On Noah’s bed if he wants. Where he’s always been. If you don’t like the hair, Diane, you can vacuum. If you don’t like the smell, you can open a window. But the dog is not going anywhere. And if either of you calls that shelter again, or tries to take him anywhere behind my back, I will call the police and report you for theft. He is our family pet. Legally. And I will press charges.”
Ryan’s mouth fell open.
“Emma, theft? That’s crazy—”
“Is it? You paid four hundred dollars to have him taken away. That sounds like premeditated theft to me. And I have the receipt to prove it.”
I pulled the crumpled paper from my pocket.
Slid it across the table.
Diane’s face was red now.
“You would really do that? Call the police on your own family?”
“Family doesn’t hurt each other. Family protects each other. And right now, the only one protecting my son is me. So yes. I will do whatever I have to do.”
I stood up.
“I’m going to get ready for work. Ryan, we need to go to the bank this weekend. I want us to look at our budget. See if we can refinance the house. Cut some expenses. Because we’re not waiting for your father’s money. We’re not letting Diane’s inheritance dictate how we raise our son. We’re going to make it on our own. Like we always have.”
I walked out of the kitchen.
I didn’t look back.
May you like
But I heard Diane’s voice, low and dangerous, as I reached the stairs.
“You’re making a mistake, Emma. A very big one.”
