CHAPTER ELEVEN
Monica. Here. In Pine Gulch.
Becca couldn’t think straight, barely aware of what she was doing for the rest of her shift as she took orders, bused tables, poured drinks.
How had her mother found them? Becca hadn’t discovered the inheritance from her grandfather until after Monica had left, and she had been very careful to cover their tracks. She had been vague and closemouthed with her former coworkers and neighbors about where they were going.
She had feared this very thing. Monica couldn’t have anything good in mind to show up out of the blue like this. What could she possibly want? Would she dare try running one of her schemes here in Pine Gulch? Years of experience had taught her she couldn’t put anything past her mother. If there was any sort of illicit money to be made in Pine Gulch, Monica would find a way to get in on the action.
She couldn’t let her. Becca fought down her panic attack. If Monica started bilking the people of Pine Gulch out of their hard-earned savings, she and Gabi would have nowhere else to go.
She so wished she’d been able to send her mother packing when she showed up at the diner—which begged another question. Of all the places she might have shown up in town, how did she know Becca worked at the diner in town?
Monica had shown up, though, and told her she needed a place to stay. Becca had wanted nothing more than to tell her mother to go to hell. The words had hovered there on her tongue. She had almost said them but then Monica had given her an arch look.
“I saw a police car out there. Who does it belong to?” She had scanned the diner and her gaze had landed unerringly on Trace. Monica could spot a cop with a spooky kind of skill. “That handsome devil with the dark hair and those delicious green eyes, right? He’s not in uniform. What is he? A detective?”
She hadn’t wanted to answer but she knew Monica would probe until she did. “The police chief,” she had muttered.
“Ahhh. Perfect. What would that gorgeous police chief do if I walked over and told him you kidnapped my daughter? I can make it a very convincing story. You know that.”
Even as cold fear gripped her stomach, she had let her mother goad her into losing her temper. In retrospect, that had been ridiculous but she seemed to have very little control when it came to Monica.
“I didn’t kidnap anyone!” she had snapped. “You left her with me and took off without a word. What was I supposed to do?”
“I never expected you to leave Arizona with her. I don’t believe I gave any such permission.”
Though the rational part of her knew perfectly well her mother wouldn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to herself by reporting a completely nonexistent crime when she had plenty of real crimes that could be pinned on her, Becca had reacted.
“What do you want?” she had hissed.
Monica shrugged. “Nothing so terrible, darling, I promise. Just a place to stay for a few days. I want to spend Christmas with my daughters. Family, that’s what the holidays are all about, right?”
The very idea nauseated her, but at the time she had been desperate to get Monica out of the diner. In the end, she had caved and given her mother the key to her grandfather’s house.
She would be there now. Picking through her things, assessing their humble Christmas decorations. Probably looking for any weakness in Becca that she could use to her advantage somehow.
Now what was she supposed to do?
She had never been so relieved when her shift ended and Donna told her to go home. She hung up her apron and grabbed her coat off the hook, then drove home as quickly as she dared through the snowy streets of Pine Gulch. In her mind, she rehearsed a dozen ways she would send Monica packing.
She found her mother in the kitchen wearing the frilly pink apron Becca had won at a bridal shower for a coworker in Arizona, what seemed another lifetime ago. She was stirring something in a bowl while Christmas music played on the kitchen radio.
Becca narrowed her gaze. “What are you doing?”
“I thought I would make some peanut butter cookies. They were always your favorite and my Gabi loves them, too.”
She had absolutely no recollection of her mother ever making cookies. “How did you find us?” she demanded.
As she might have expected, Monica ignored the question. “How can you stand all that snow? Oh, I’ll admit it’s lovely for a day or two but I can’t imagine putting up with it for months at a time.”
Fitting, she supposed. Her mother didn’t like to be inconvenienced by anything. Weather, finances, pesky little things like, oh, morals, ethics and laws.
“Tell me the truth, Monica. What are you doing here? I’m not buying the whole ‘holiday time with the family’ line. What else is going on?”
“Why do I have to have an ulterior motive, darling? I missed my little Gabi. And you, of course.” She smiled as she added vanilla to the dough.
“Gabi’s fine. She’s happy.” She doesn’t need you coming in and screwing everything up. “Is she?”
Just those two words and suddenly everything became clear. She stared at her mother, those nerves clutching her stomach again. “She found a way to call you, didn’t she?”
Monica opened her mouth as if to deny it and then must have decided she could work the truth to her advantage somehow. “Apparently, she borrowed the cell phone of a little friend from school.”
Of course. The day Becca had found out about her claiming she had a heart condition, she’d had an iPod and phone and other electronic gadgetry. Gabi must have known Becca would have figured it out if she’d somehow sneaked her cell phone to use it, so she’d figured out a work-around.
“Gabi knows that no matter where I am or what I might be doing, I’ve got one cell number she can always use to reach me in an emergency. She called me last week and told me where she was and of course I dropped everything to rush right here.”
Her sister was nine years old, she reminded herself. She didn’t know any other life than the twisted one Monica had provided for those years. Still, Becca was aware of a sharp ache in her chest. “You left her with me, Monica. You used me and embroiled me in mortgage fraud and cleared out my savings and then you took off. I had no choice but to clean things up the best way I could. I might have been disbarred.”
“You weren’t, were you?”
“By a miracle. Because I agreed to liquidate every asset I had to cover what you stole!”
Monica’s smile was conciliatory. “I’ll make it up to you. You know I’m good for it, right?”
Oh, of course she would make it up. Like all the other money she had taken from her over the years in one form or another. Becca wasn’t going to hold her breath over that particular promise.
“I don’t want you here. Neither does Gabi. She’s finally got a comfortable, stable home. Someone willing to think about her first.”
Monica sniffed. “You call this place comfortable? It’s horrible!”
Though she had thought the very same thing herself throughout the past month, decrying the layers of dark, unattractive wallpaper, the peeling linoleum, Becca suddenly wanted to defend her grandfather’s house. This house had provided a haven for them when they hadn’t had anywhere else to go and she didn’t want to hear Monica malign it.
“There’s nothing wrong with this house that a little tender loving can’t take care of. We’re working on it, little by little. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, Gabi is fine here. You showing up like this out of the blue will only confuse her.”
“She called me,” Monica pointed out once more.
“That doesn’t matter. Gabi—” Is here, she realized, her words cut off by the sound of the front door slamming. School was on an early schedule because Christmas vacation started the next day, she remembered.
“Whose car is out there?” Gabi called from the entry. Becca didn’t have a chance to answer before her sister wandered into the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, her jaw sagging at the sight of their mother in an apron, spooning batter onto a cookie sheet. “Mom?”
“Darling!” Monica took a moment to wipe her hands on a cloth, then rushed to Gabi and enfolded her in a huge hug. Gabi didn’t return the hug. She merely stood still, arms at her side.
“What are you doing here?” she asked stiffly.
“You called me, honey. You told me where you were. I thought that meant you wanted me here.”
Gabi shot a quick look at Becca, her eyes stricken. “I only wanted to make sure you were okay and let you know we were fine here. I didn’t want you to worry. I never thought you would come out here.”
“It’s Christmas. Where else would I be than with my beautiful girls?”
Becca barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. She hadn’t spent Christmas with her mother in a dozen years. Even when she lived with Monica, her mother had never made any sort of fuss about Christmas.
“We’re going to have a wonderful time, darling. We can sing carols and, look, I’m making cookies, and I can be here when you open your presents from Santa. Aren’t you so happy that we can be together?”
“Um. Sure,” Gabi said. She had that closed-up expression again that always worried Becca.
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a stilted awkwardness, with Monica showing over-the-top enthusiasm for everything except the house. She loved the snowflakes Gabi had made. She adored their humble paper-chain garland. She couldn’t get enough of the stockings Becca and Gabi had made out of felt pieces clumsily stitched together.
She apparently didn’t notice—or care—that neither of them shared her enthusiasm.
Becca didn’t have a chance to talk with Gabi alone until after dinner, when Monica headed to the third bedroom—sniffing her nose at the twin bed and the boxes piled around her that Becca hadn’t had a chance to organize yet—to make some phone calls. Gabi immediately headed into the shower as if she wanted to avoid questions. Becca waited several moments after she heard the water shut off for her sister to change into her pajamas before seeking her out.
To her surprise, she found Gabi on the floor of the darkened living room, lit only by the light from the Christmas tree Trace had brought and decorated with them.
Colored streaks dripped down Gabi’s cheeks, the Christmas lights reflecting her tears.
“Oh, honey.” Becca folded her sister in her arms, marveling anew how she could come to care so much for Gabi in a few months. Gabi was stiff and unyielding for a moment and then she sagged in her arms. A lump rose in Becca’s throat when Gabi wrapped her arms around her, too.
“I’ve ruined everything,” she said, sniffling. “I’m sorry, Beck. I never ever thought she would come out here.”
She smoothed a hand over Gabi’s damp hair. “It’s not your fault. Monica likes the unexpected. She always has.”
“I should never have called her.”
She couldn’t lie to the girl, after she had known a lifetime of dishonesty, by pretending everything was fine. “It certainly complicates things. But we’ll be okay.”
“She’s going to ruin Christmas.”
“Not if we don’t let her.”
“You promise?”
The trust in Gabi’s voice staggered her, left her feeling completely unworthy. She hugged her tightly. “I promise,” she answered, though she had absolutely no idea how she was going to keep her word.
* * *
Monica was definitely up to something.
Less than twenty-four hours after her mother had blown into town like a nasty, greasy rain cloud, Becca knew she was cooking up some new scheme. Monica was on her cell phone constantly and she insisted on taking every call in the guest bedroom amid the boxes and clutter where she couldn’t be overheard.
She also had an unmistakable air of restless excitement around her. Most worrisome of all, she seemed especially watchful of Gabi. At odd moments, Becca would find her mother scrutinizing her sister with a considering expression that worried her to no end. If she caught Becca looking at her, Monica would revert to a bland smile that didn’t fool either of them.
Becca had never felt so helpless, trapped by her quandary. She wanted to tell her mother to leave, that she wouldn’t let her ruin Gabi’s first real Christmas. But with no legal, official custody arrangement between them, she knew Monica could drive away with Gabi at any moment and Becca would have no power to stop her.
She had been so worried, she had almost called in sick that day at the diner, but she knew that wouldn’t have been fair to Lou and Donna. The Gulch was bound to be busier than usual this close to Christmas, especially with school out for Christmas vacation. She just had to trust that Monica wouldn’t do anything stupid—which seemed a little like hoping Mother Nature would decide to send a heat wave to Pine Gulch for Christmas.
Now, as she pulled into her driveway behind Monica’s flashy red sports car, relief flooded her. Her mother and Gabi were still here.
If nothing else, her mother’s reappearance in their lives had proved without question to Becca how very much she loved her sister. She didn’t know exactly when her perception had changed, but she no longer considered her sister a burden. She loved Gabi and wanted, above all, to give her sister a safe, normal childhood. A nine-year-old girl ought to be busy going to birthday parties and dance class, not playing a part in her mother’s latest con.
If Monica took Gabi away, Becca knew just what fate awaited her. More lies and manipulation. Gabi would have to become a player, willing or not, in whatever game Monica wanted to embroil her in next.
Becca refused to let that happen. She had given her word and she would do whatever it took to keep that promise.
The afternoon and evening were a repeat of the awkwardness of the day before. Though she did her best to keep her sister busy in the kitchen making homemade caramels she wanted to give to the Archuletas and The Gulch regulars the next day on Christmas Eve, Monica still managed to sneak Gabi away for a couple of private talks. Each time, Gabi would return subdued but she refused to talk about what was bothering her with Becca.
After they finished wrapping the caramels in little sections of waxed paper, Gabi finally said she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Though it was about an hour earlier than her usual bedtime, Becca didn’t stop her as she headed upstairs to her bedroom.
“Well, I’ve got to make a few phone calls,” Monica said, pushing away from the table, where she had sat and watched Gabi and Becca wrap the caramels.
“Before you do, I need to talk to you.” Becca forced her voice to be forceful, declarative.
Monica gave a light laugh, though she seemed slightly disconcerted. “That sounds ominous. You mind if I eat a caramel while you lecture me?”
Without waiting for an answer, she unwrapped one of the sticky-sweet pieces of candy and began to chew it.
“I don’t want to lecture you,” Becca said. True enough. She wanted to wring her mother’s neck for coming here and stirring up such tension, taking so much of the joy out of the holidays. “I want the truth. What are you planning with Gabi?”
Monica opened her mouth with a look of feigned hurt. She could have made a good living in Hollywood if she’d turned her talents in that direction. She was a brilliant actress, which was why she was so good at convincing people to part with their money, whether they wanted to or not.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’m not stupid, Monica. I know the signs. You’re cooking up something and it involves Gabi.”
“Why would you say that to me?”
Becca ground her back teeth, refusing to play the game. “Because I know you. You forget, I was exactly in Gabi’s shoes until I cut off ties with you twelve years ago. Enough is enough, Monica. Gabi and I are making a good life here. She’s got friends, she’s starting to enjoy school. I’m thinking about getting a dog and a cat. She’s safe and happy now, for once in her life, and I’m not letting you drag her off again.”
Oh, she should have just shut up while she was ahead. As soon as she said the last part, she wanted to clamp her teeth together at her own stupid tactical error.
Big mistake, to throw everything out there like that and reveal how very protective she was of Gabi now. Monica would definitely capitalize on her mistake. She would have been much better off pretending she didn’t want Gabi around. Monica would have been much quicker to leave the girl with Becca if she thought it was some kind of onerous burden on her.
“You’re imagining things.” Monica put on her wounded look. “I don’t know why you’re always so quick to accuse me of things. I’m just here to spend the holidays with my girls.”
Becca hated to ask but felt she had no choice. “You’re not planning something here, are you?”
Monica’s look of surprise seemed genuine enough. “In Pine Gulch? No. I learned my lesson here.”
She stared. “What does that mean?”
“I haven’t had good experiences in Pine Gulch. After your father died, I contacted your grandfather looking for help.” Her mouth pursed and she looked every one of her nearly fifty years. “He threatened to take you away from me, the old bastard. I wasn’t going to let that happen so I vowed not to come back. When I was pregnant with Gabi, some old acquaintances needed another player for a big job here. The payoff was going to be huge but the whole job turned into a complete disaster. Fortunately I only had a small part. Nobody could tie me to anything. All I did was a little recon work for a few days. It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that, and I was able to get out of town fast when things headed south. You know how I feel about violence. Just not my scene.”
She wasn’t interested in Monica’s walks down Memory Lane. All she wanted was to protect her sister.
“Gabi is happy here,” she repeated. “Don’t you think she deserves a chance at a normal life?”
“Gabrielle is not you, Rebecca. All you ever wanted was that normal you’re always going on about. Look at you now. Waiting tables in a two-bit diner in Nowhere, Idaho. I can’t believe any daughter of mine would be happy, but I never did understand you. Now, Gabi. She loves adventure.”
“She’s happy here,” she repeated to Monica.
Her mother smiled, tossing her waxed paper wrapper on the counter instead of the garbage can. “If that was true, she never would have called me. Good night, my dear. Sleep well.”
She walked out of the kitchen, leaving Becca with more of her messes to clean up and an ache of fear in her stomach.