Page 18 of Bleeding Hearts

“So, about the dirt. Where do you want it?” Felix picks up a bag and tosses it to Nicky, who catches it with ease.

I point at my daughter. “She’ll tell you. I’m going to go check on Mollie and see what’s happening inside.”

As I’m walking away, I hear Finn say to the others, “Told you he’d go inside. Your dad is cool. I also think he likes my mom. You cool with that, kid?”

I can’t hear what Kellie says, and I’m not sure I want to. He’s not wrong, but there’s more to it than just liking Bethany. As adults, we have responsibilities that demand our attention. We can’t act on our feelings, no matter how much I’d like to do just that. Especially with us being neighbors. It’s not like I can just move if shit hits the fan.

When I arrive at the door, Mollie is coming out, but that doesn’t stop me from entering. “Go help your sister and the boys. You can make sure they don’t bust any bags open. Okay?”

“Okay.” Mollie runs past me. “Dad said to make sure you don’t bust open any bags. We paid good money for that dirt.”

Good lord, help me, that kid misses nothing.

I step inside and hear voices echoing down the entry from the kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I try not to overstep.It’s not my place. I’m just the neighbor who thinks the woman seated across from the two men in suits is amazing and more than capable of handling her own shit. Even if I would love to throw my weight around to help her out, I won’t unless she asks me to.

“Everything okay?” I ask, then notice Bethany has tears in her eyes, which riles me up. “Someone better explain, now.”

Jodi stands and offers me her seat. “I think I’ll go outside and let you deal with this. Good luck.”

“Do I really need it?”

With a shrug, she points to a piece of paper placed in front of Bethany, catching my attention.

“What’s that?”

Bethany doesn’t say a word, she just slides it over and waits for me to read it. The more I read, the more I understand why she seems upset, or maybe not upset, but frazzled.

I tap the paper and look her straight in the eye. “You need to call a lawyer.”

The man across from me speaks. “I’m a lawyer.”

Unimpressed, I point to the man next to him. “His lawyer. She needs her own.”

He disagrees. “No, she doesn’t. He or she will only tell her to take the deal and then charge her a hefty fee.”

I take my phone out of my back pocket. “Not all lawyers overcharge. And I’m sorry, but you’re looking out for him and that little prick who barreled into my daughter when he stormed out of here. I don’t trust you. She shouldn’t trust you.” Once I’m done explaining, I find who I’m looking for and press the call button.

“Who are you calling?” Bethany’s sharp, questioning gaze and slightly pursed lips show her skepticism.

“Stephanie’s sister. She’s a lawyer.” I reach over and place my hand on her arm, feeling the softness of her skin. “Trust me.She won’t mind. She’s been wanting to come get the girls. I’ll tell her if she does this first, she can have them for a few days.”

“Or I could call one of my colleagues. One of the university lawyers.” With a slight nibble on her lip, she returns her gaze to the paper. “What kind of law does your sister-in-law practice?”

Locking eyes with the man who insisted she didn’t need one, I smirk. “She’s a prosecutor. She’d totally be down to help, if only to make sure it’s legal and not some shady cover-up. I’m sure you two are okay with that.”

The other man nods—Mr. Stewart, I presume. “No cover up. Totally fine with it. I want to make this right. We might have arrived with a particular goal. Your woman’s words sparked a series of thoughts in my head. Now I just want to help, that’s it. Going forward, my son resolves his own problems. I’m done cleaning up those for him. It’s time he acts like an adult.”

“Hello,” Stacy finally answers the phone. “It’s been too long.”

“Sorry about that. Are you busy?” I know I should call more often, but I forget or get busy. Plus, it’s hard, Stacy looks so much like her sister that it hurts seeing her.

“I’m doing laundry. So no,” she snickers. “What’s up?”

I explain the situation the best I can with Bethany’s help. There are lots of ahas and okays. I can almost see her nodding. After my brief explanation, I ask, “So, are you free to help?”

“I’m in the car now. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I’m glad you called. See you soon.”

I hang up and lean back in my chair. “She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

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