Chapter 2

"Oh, son, take me back home. I can't stand one more minute in this house."

Margaret dropped onto the floor with her tattered bundle and started wailing.

"Mom, get up first. I'm home now. I'll set this right for you."

Percy rounded on me. "Eleanor, did you drive Mom out?"

"She came all this way to take care of you. How could you make such a scene?"

I stared at him, lost. "Percy, what are you talking about? When did I ever tell her to leave?"

Margaret jabbed a finger in my face. "You called me a thief just now. Don't think I didn't catch it. You were driving me out, plain and simple."

"Son, hurry and buy me a ticket. I truly can't stay here."

Her wailing was so loud it startled Baby Noah awake.

I had Eva take him into the guest room.

I pulled up her social feed and held it out to Percy. "Look at what your mother posted. Look, and then come blame me."

He didn't even glance at it.

"Eleanor, you're being too sensitive. My mom just put up a post, that's all. Was it really necessary to call her a thief?"

"She was crying on the phone to me this whole time. She came all this way to take care of you, and you're giving her a hard time?"

Behind him, Margaret wiped away the few tears she'd managed to squeeze out.

When she looked at me, her eyes were pure smugness.

No wonder his line had been busy every time I called.

So that was it. Margaret had been busy the whole time, filing her complaint against me.

But right now, I had no room to dwell on any of that.

I lifted my phone, opened that post, and pushed it right up in front of Percy's face.

"Percy, do you see what's in the video? Did she just put up a post? Every bit of it is me."

Margaret craned her neck. "So what if I filmed you? You're the mother of our precious grandson, aren't you?"

"Son, I only wanted to share the good news with all our family and friends."

"The Lamberts have a new baby. That's the greatest joy there is. Everyone ought to know."

Percy soothed her gently. "Mom, I know what you mean. I understand."

She jutted out her lip, the picture of injury. "But she called me a thief and told me to get out and go home. I've lived more than sixty years, and no one's ever called me a thief. No one's ever told me to get out."

"Son, if you won't stand up for me today, I might as well go be with your father."

Percy's father had died young, never got to enjoy a single day of comfort from his son, and Percy had always carried the guilt of it.

No matter the moment, the instant his father was mentioned, Percy went soft.

"Mom, don't worry. I'll stand up for you. I promise."

He turned on me, seething. "Eleanor, apologize to Mom."

I looked straight at this man. Three days ago, in the delivery room, he'd sworn to me with every word.

I'd walked through the gates of hell to give him a child, and he'd said he would love me and protect me for the rest of my life.

Only three days had passed.

The wound from my C-section was still weeping blood.

And because of his mother's tantrum, he was telling me to apologize.

I said, cold, "Not a chance."

The words were barely out before Margaret started up again.

"Son, look at her. I really can't stay. Just take me back home."

Propping her up with one arm, Percy snarled at me, "Eleanor, if you push my mother into something serious, I will never forgive you."

I forced myself out of bed through the pain and played the video from Margaret's post.

"Percy, open your eyes and look. She filmed me in secret, and then she posted it."

"She's the one in the wrong, not me."

"If anyone should apologize, it's her."

The last syllable hadn't even faded.

Crack. My phone was kicked flying, slammed into the wall, and split in two.