Chapter 2
I had barely crossed the threshold when Vanessa grabbed Marcus's arm.
"You're making a mistake."
My son stopped.
He looked down at her hand.
Then slowly lifted his eyes.
"Take your hand off me."
She released him.
A woman standing beside the staircase gasped.
The music continued for another few seconds before someone turned it off.
Suddenly, the enormous house fell silent.
I could hear the wheels of my old suitcase rolling across the polished floor.
I wanted to disappear.
Instead, Marcus guided me toward a cream-colored sofa.
"Sit down, Mama."
I shook my head.
"Sweetheart, your guests—"
"Can wait."
He placed my suitcase beside the sofa.
Then knelt in front of me.
"Are you hurt?"
I tried to smile.
"Just tired."
His eyes moved toward my swollen ankles.
"How did you get here?"
"The bus."
His expression changed.
"What bus?"
"The morning one from Savannah."
He stared at me.
"You traveled all this way alone?"
I nodded.
"Then I took a taxi."
He looked devastated.
"Mom, why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried."
Vanessa made an impatient sound behind us.
"Marcus, can we please stop this interrogation?"
He didn't turn.
"Not another word."
I felt my stomach tighten.
My son had never spoken to his wife that way in front of me.
Then again, I'd rarely seen them together.
Their wedding had been beautiful.
Three years earlier.
A ballroom full of flowers.
A string quartet.
A honeymoon in Italy.
I'd sat in the second row because Vanessa said the front was reserved for special guests.
I remembered thinking that was strange.
But I didn't complain.
Marcus looked at me.
"Mom, when did you call?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"What time?"
"Around three."
He pulled out his phone.
I watched him scroll.
His eyebrows drew together.
"There's no call."
I looked down.
"Maybe I dialed incorrectly."
I knew I hadn't.
But I couldn't bear to cause more trouble.
Marcus opened his messages.
"Did you text?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
He checked again.
Then looked at me.
"There's nothing here."
Vanessa immediately stepped forward.
"See? She probably forgot."
I flinched.
Marcus noticed.
He turned.
"Why would you say that?"
Vanessa shrugged.
"Evelyn is getting older."
I stared at her.
She smiled sweetly.
"People forget things."
My son looked back at me.
"Mom, do you still have the messages?"
I reached for my handbag.
My fingers were stiff.
After several attempts, I found my phone.
It was an old model with a cracked screen.
Marcus had offered to replace it several times.
I refused because it still worked.
I opened the message history.
Then handed it to him.
He read silently.
His expression changed.
There were four messages.
One sent a week earlier.
One sent three days before the party.
Two from yesterday.
Every one asked whether I could visit for his birthday.
Every one showed as delivered.
Marcus looked toward Vanessa.
"Why didn't I receive these?"
She laughed.
"How would I know?"
He studied his phone.
Then opened another screen.
I watched his face harden.
"Mom's number is blocked."
My stomach dropped.
Vanessa went still.
"What?"
Marcus turned the screen toward her.
"My mother's number is blocked."
She crossed her arms.
"That's strange."
He stared at her.
"Strange?"
"Maybe you did it by accident."
I felt tears gathering again.
Marcus looked at me.
"Mom, how long have you been unable to reach me?"
I hesitated.
He waited.
"Almost a year."
His face changed completely.
"Almost a year?"
I nodded.
"I thought you were busy."
He lowered his head.
For a moment, I thought he was angry with me.
Then I saw his shoulders trembling.
"Mama."
His voice cracked.
"I thought you stopped wanting to talk to me."
I stared at him.
"What?"
He looked up.
"Vanessa said you were upset with me."
My heart tightened.
"Upset?"
"She said you didn't approve of my marriage."
I shook my head.
"Marcus, I never said that."
His eyes filled.
"She said you wanted distance."
I covered my mouth.
For months, I'd been waiting for my son to call.
And he'd been waiting for me.
We had both believed the other person was pulling away.
Vanessa spoke sharply.
"Marcus, you're twisting everything."
He stood.
"Did you block my mother's number?"
She hesitated.
Then said, "I may have done it when she kept calling during your meetings."
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
She continued quickly.
"You were stressed. I was protecting you."
Marcus looked as though she'd slapped him.
"Protecting me from my mother?"
Vanessa's voice rose.
"You have no idea how demanding she can be!"
I felt my chest tighten.
I wasn't demanding.
I'd never asked Marcus for money.
Never asked to move into his house.
Never complained about the gifts Vanessa received.
I'd only wanted to hear his voice.
Marcus took a long breath.
Then turned toward the guests.
"I'm sorry for the interruption."
His voice carried across the entrance hall.
"But my mother is not an unwanted visitor."
Several people nodded.
One elderly woman began clapping softly.
Vanessa shot her an angry look.
Marcus continued.
"If anyone has been told otherwise, you've been misinformed."
My eyes filled.
He turned back toward me.
"Would you like some water?"
I nodded.
A server hurried forward with a glass.
I took a small sip.
My hands were shaking so badly that Marcus helped steady it.
Then his best friend, Daniel, approached.
He looked uncomfortable.
"Marcus, can I speak to you?"
My son glanced at me.
I nodded.
"It's all right."
They stepped a few feet away.
I couldn't hear everything.
But I heard Daniel say something about a video.
Marcus's expression changed.
Then he looked toward the entrance camera.
Vanessa noticed.
Her face went pale.
I watched Daniel hand him a tablet.
My son studied the screen.
Then slowly looked at his wife.
"Vanessa."
She didn't answer.
"How many times have you turned my mother away?"
The question made my heart stop.
Because suddenly I remembered the Christmas visit.
The Easter dinner.
And the afternoon I'd come to surprise Marcus after his promotion.
Three times.
Three separate visits.
Three times Vanessa had told me my son wasn't home.
May you like
I had never told him.
And now I realized he might finally discover why.
