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It sounded practical to Marian. Then again, she wasn’t going to shed a single tear when her former mother-in-law kicked the bucket, whether she went fast or lingered on. “And then what?”

  “I told her she needed to apologize, and she wouldn’t. And then I said…” Tommy struggled again to speak.

  Marian leaned forward. “What did you say, Tommy? Jesus, stop dragging this out.”

  “I told her that kids who talked like that got sent away to a place where they locked you up until you could behave like a normal person. That’s when she started to flip out. She wouldn’t stop screaming until I got her back here.” He hung his head, looking ashamed, but Marian had seen that look on him too many times to feel even the tiniest scrap of forgiveness.

  A white-hot rage swept over her. Shaking, she lifted the beer bottle but couldn’t drink from it because the glass chattered against her teeth hard enough to hurt. She set it down and gripped her hands together. Dean put a hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t shrug it off. The look she gave him made him take it away, though.

  “You told my daughter that you were going to lock her up in a psych ward?” The words came out calmer than she thought they would.

  She knew Tommy, and he still knew her. At her calm tone, he blanched and looked even more miserable. “She can’t talk to people like that, Mare. It’s not…right. She’s not right.”

  “Are you saying there’s something wrong with her?” Marian demanded through gritted teeth. “You waltz in and out of her life and you think you can figure her out? She’s smart. She’s…Briella’s just smart. Sometimes really smart people have a hard time relating or dealing with other people. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with her!”

  Dean reached for her hand. “Babe, you know that what she said isn’t okay.”

  “Being rude,” Marian replied with a sneer directed toward Tommy, “doesn’t mean she’s crazy. Seems to me that your mother was rude as hell to me more than once. Does that mean she’s not right in the head?”

  “Look, I just thought it was a better idea if I brought her home,” Tommy began.

  Marian cut him off. “You said you wanted to do more. You wanted to try to be a real father to her. Well, guess what, that means dealing with her even when you don’t want to.”

  He looked caught and awkward, his gaze shifting from hers to the empty bottle and then to Dean, who shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not cut out for it.”

  “I let you take my kid to see your dying mother, who’s been nothing but an asshole to me for as long as I’ve known you. She decided years ago to write off my kid and has never asked to see her when you weren’t around. Once,” Marian began and stopped herself so she could get her voice to stop trembling, “once we passed her in the grocery store aisle and she pretended she didn’t see me, Tommy. I agreed to let you take Briella against my better judgment, because I felt like, yeah, maybe it was time for you to get to spend some time with your kid. Maybe it would be a good idea for your mother to have a chance to realize what she’s been missing out on. I trusted you to take care of my kid!”

  “Our kid,” he put in.

  Marian waved a dismissive hand at him and leaned forward, her jaw clenched. “Mine. My kid. You don’t get to claim her, not when you can’t put in the fucking effort.”

  “Maybe you should tell that to the judge next time you try to come after me for support,” Tommy said, but looked instantly embarrassed.

  She did not point out that the minuscule amount of support he did provide was not something to brag about. “I trusted you to take care of her. Not tell her you were going to send her away and lock her up.”

  Tommy stood. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  “It must run in the family,” she said coldly. “Saying things you should know better than to say.”

  Marian fought tears of fury and guilt because she’d been complicit in allowing him to put her daughter in a bad place. She clenched her fists until her fingernails dug into the skin. Tommy couldn’t meet her gaze, but she kept hers steady and staring on him, waiting for him to speak.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally repeated, at last looking at her. “But seriously, Marian, the kid has changed. There’s something going on with her, and you should get someone to talk to her. Hell, even someone at that freaking school should be able to tell you that she might be smart, but she’s not…normal.”

  Dean stood at that. “You should go.”

  “I am sorry, man. I know that doesn’t mean much—”

  “It means shit,” Marian said flatly. “Get out.”

  When he’d gone, she gathered the empty bottles and put them in the recycling bin. She rinsed her hands at the sink, blinking away tears and the bitterness of fury. Behind her, in silence, Dean went about cleaning up the dinner they’d left on the table in their haste to get to the bedroom. At the sound of a fork scraping the uneaten spaghetti into the trash, Marian turned.

  “It’s my fault. I knew better. I let him talk me into it, I knew better but I still let him….”

  Dean set the dirty dishes in the sink. “Baby, he’s her father. His mother is dying. You were trying to do the right thing. Sometimes, when we try to do the right thing, we make mistakes. Why don’t you go up and check on her? I’ll finish cleaning up.”

  Marian nodded and hugged him hard, pressing her face to his chest while she took in his comforting scent. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, babe. We’re going to make sure this all works out. Okay?” He squeezed her. “We’ll get Briella help, if she needs it.…”

  Marian froze, then looked up at him. “You think she needs help?”

  For a long moment, Dean said nothing. Then he shook his head. “I’m just saying that if she does, we’ll make sure she gets it. Okay?”

  “She’s so smart. She’s so scary smart,” Marian whispered, not wanting there to be even the slightest chance Briella overheard her. “But she’s my child, Dean. I have to protect her.”

  “I know you do.”

  You don’t understand, Marian wanted to say, but stopped herself just short of that cruelty. Dean didn’t understand, because although he’d been a parent to Briella, she was still not ‘his’ no matter how hard Marian had tried to make that be true. He loved her. He loved Briella. She knew that. But it was not the same.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Briella was not asleep when Marian went upstairs. The girl turned a tear-streaked face toward her mother and sat up in bed when Marian came in. She clutched an old stuffed toy Marian hadn’t seen her play with in ages.

  “Hey, Bean.” Marian sat on the edge of the bed to cuddle her close. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry I made Daddy mad.”

  For the first time in a long time, the girl sounded sincerely apologetic. Another pang of jealousy pricked at Marian’s heart, that Briella could show remorse about Tommy and not her or Dean. She couldn’t shake it off, but she wasn’t going to let it affect her.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, kiddo.”

  “He was really mad because I made Gramma cry. I didn’t mean to. I was trying to make her feel better about dying. I told her I could help her fly up to heaven.” Briella sniffled loudly.

  Marian stopped looking in the nightstand for a tissue. Tommy had told her that Briella had asked his mother if she wanted someone to help her die faster. Hearing that Briella had offered to be the one to do it was even worse. She tried to tell herself she’d heard the girl wrong. “What?”

  “I told her, if she didn’t want to take a long time and hurt the whole time, that I could help her get to heaven sooner.”

  “Briella, why would you say that?”

  “He’s a…” She mumbled something that sounded like “psycho.”

  Marian took the girl’s face in her hands and looked at her steadily. “Who’s a psycho? Your dad?”