Page 63 of What the Wife Knew

I decided to answer Portia because her question sounded genuine. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I’m fine.”

Portia glanced at the bottle of pain relievers. “Should you be in the hospital or—”

“No.” For some reason I felt the need to console Portia. She had enough to worry about and work through without adding me to the list. “I really am okay. The ambulance people declared me well.”

“Do you think the person who hit you was the same person who killed Dad?”

“Portia, stop.” Kathryn’s firm voice echoed through the kitchen.

“I don’t know but I have security and my mom is visiting.” Itried to lighten my voice and really sell that last part as a good thing, but Portia’s frown told me she somehow understood.

“Is that why you’re here? To check on Addison?” Mom asked Kathryn.

“Portia insisted and I wasn’t about to let her come here alone.” Kathryn shook her head. “The press is out there... now they’ve seen us. This is a disaster.”

Portia sighed and rolled her eyes at the same time. “Mom. You promised.”

The whole scene sucked. Sucked for Portia. For me. For all the daughters of messy mothers in the room. “I appreciate you came by to check. Thank you.”

“What’s the plan here, Addison? Are you looking for sympathy? Hoping to win people over? Because it’s not going to happen. We all know exactly what you are,” Kathryn said.

Mom abandoned her sandwich and braced her hands on the kitchen island. “You should shut your mouth.”

Kathryn didn’t look impressed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Someone who wasn’t invited but barged in anyway, using her daughter as bait.”

Kathryn made a strangled sound that telegraphed how little she thought of Mom and her comments. “I see where your daughter learned her manners.”

That was a mistake. Kathryn expected Mom to concede. Mom would burn the house down with all of us in it first.

“You want to fight me, Kathryn? I’m ready.” Mom glanced at Kathryn’s hair. Then to her perfectly pressed pantsuit that likely cost more than Mom’s entire wardrobe. “I would enjoy messing you up a bit.”

All because of Richmond. He wasn’t worth the energy women expended when dealing with his memory.

I sighed to let everyone know I was done. “That’s probably enough.”

“Mom, we should go.” Portia had shifted until she stood between Kathryn and the kitchen island, like a mom buffer. Her grip on the countertop turned her knuckles white.

“I see your daughter got all the common sense in the family,” Mom said.

Kathryn pulled Portia against her side. “Don’t talk about her.”

Another eye roll. Portia had that move down. “Mom.”

Kathryn grabbed her bag and wrapped an arm around Portia before glaring at me. “You and I aren’t done.”

She kept saying things like that. The Dougherty family really needed to tone down the theatrics. “It feels like we are.”

Mom pointed toward the hallway. “The door is over there. Use it and don’t come back.”

“Not you, Portia.” I had no idea why I put that out there, but the words kept coming. “You’re welcome here any time.”

Kathryn walked around the island, hugging her purse. I was so busy watching her I almost missed Portia pulling away from the island with a small black rectangle that looked like a USB drive in her hand. She practically threw it at me, pointed at her mom’s back, then put a finger to her lips.

Kathryn spun around. “Let’s go, Portia. Do not ask to return.”

“Coming.” Portia shot me a half smile then increased her pace to catch up with her mom.

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