Lord knew she never should have taken that money, but then again, if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t be with Elaine right now. Shit. If Donna had never rented out his house in the first place, he and Elaine might never have met at all. Crazy how the world worked sometimes.
His dad had always said, “Son, things happen for a reason,” but then his dad had gone and gotten himself killed in Iraq. There was sure no good reason for that, so Grant had decided his father was wrong. Now here he was left wondering again, about fate and destiny and coincidence while he waited for his batshit crazy mother to come to the goddamn phone.
He had every right to be mad at her, but if there was a grander scheme to life, then maybe, just maybe, his mother had done him a favor.
Elaine reached over and squeezed his wrist. “Grant, there’s something I need to tell—”
“Grant?” His mother’s voice cut in, her voice warbling like her throat was full of marbles.
He sighed. “Hi, Mom.”
Donna started crying all over again, and he finally looked over at Elaine. She looked positively stricken. She needed that money. The fear was plain on her face. He’d get it back to her. If he had to sell his house or call up Blake fucking Rockstone and get his old job back, he’d get Elaine her money.
“What did you do, Mom? How much did you spend?”
His mother snuffled in a big gulp of air. “About four hundred dollars.”
The Mack truck that had parked on his chest backed up. “Four hundred dollars?” That was nothing! Sure, it didn’t take care of the six grand they owed Elaine for rent, but they could certainly work that out. He held the phone away from his mouth and turned to Elaine. “Four hundred dollars. That’s all she spent,” he whispered.
Elaine didn’t look that relieved. Her smile was of the I-just-swallowed-bad-medicine-but-I-know-it’s-good-for-me variety. Maybe she thought his mother was lying. That was certainly within the realm of possibility. The sooner they could see Donna in person, the better off he’d feel, and the more he could assure Elaine this would all work out.
He brought the phone back to his ear. “You know you did a terrible thing, right, Mom? Elaine did you a huge favor by not calling the police.”
Elaine shook her head at him, frowning.
Donna warbled again. “I know. I just . . . I saw that backpack and I really liked it, and Tina and I were going on a girl’s trip and I thought how nice that bag would go with my brown coat. Then I saw the money inside and I just couldn’t stop myself. Please tell Elaine that I’m sorry and I will give it all back.”
His mother was reckless, and impulsive, and she had more than a splash of kleptomania, but he couldn’t fix it over the phone. This was something he’d have to deal with once they were all back in Bell Harbor. “You will give it back, and we’re going to get you some help so that you don’t do this kind of thing anymore. In the meantime, we need to figure out where we can meet because you’ve also got Elaine’s phone and some other stuff that she needs inside that bag. Tina says you’re in Effingham. How far is that from Memphis? That’s where we are.”
“You’re in Memphis?” His mother’s voice squeaked. “You and who?”
“Me and Elaine. We’re here waiting for you and we need that bag back.”
“They’re in Memphis,” he heard Donna say, undoubtedly talking to his aunt. The phone was clumsily passed once more and Tina’s voice came through.
“Grant? We should be in Memphis tonight, but not until late. It’s about a five-hour drive but we’ll have to stop for gas and to eat again. If the roads are still bad, it may take a bit longer. Can you come to my place in the morning?”
“Yes. Sure. Of course, but meanwhile, Tina, lock that bag in the trunk, OK? Don’t let my mother anywhere near it.”
Delaney Masterson had received a stay of execution. Or more accurately, Elaine Masters had. She could hear both sides of the conversation from her spot next to Grant on the piano seat. His mother was loud, loud and clearly distraught. Delaney should probably be furious with her for causing a shitload of misery and worry! But mostly, at the moment, all Delaney felt was relieved. She’d be getting her money and phone and wallet back tomorrow morning. But even better than that, Donna had referred to her as Elaine. She hadn’t mentioned the name Delaney at all. Was it possible she’d never found the wallet? True, it was stuffed down near the bottom of the bag, underneath the money, but Donna wasn’t a very good thief if she hadn’t even searched through her loot. But then again, Donna Beckett didn’t strike Delaney as very bright.
Then again, again, who was she to accuse someone of being not bright?
Who was the one hiding in plain sight under an alias?
Who was the one running from a sex-video scandal?
Who was the one falling in love with a man who didn’t even know her real name?
That would be Delaney.