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“What’s the point? It’s what you’re thinking.”
“I was actually trying not to think it.” Erica felt her mouth twist. “She loves her and is worried about her. The way they hugged. It was like she never wanted to let go. It hurt.”
“You’re the mother,” Mara told her. “You’re dependable. No special care needs to be taken. Plus you’ve always been the strongest person Summer knows so she never has to worry about you. I don’t know anything about Allison, but I’m guessing she’s nothing like you. And now she’s in a pickle.”
“That’s one way of describing her situation.” Erica picked up an olive. “I’m going to talk to Peter’s office manager and find out what’s happening with the business. It sounds like the police had a search warrant and took everything.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Then how can you help? If the computers are gone, there won’t be any records.”
“The cloud, Mom. Peter has to have backed up his files. Gail should have that information, too.” She shook her head. “The records are easy—it’s the lack of money that’s going to be a problem. I assume they froze the business accounts, too.”
“What are you going to do? And what about Allison? Does she have any options?”
Erica did her best to ignore the whisper of guilt. “I don’t know what her plans are.”
“Is that because you didn’t ask, or because she doesn’t have any? If she has no money, she’s in worse shape than the business. She and Peter rent, don’t they?”
Erica was careful not to look at her mother as she piled meat onto a cracker. “The landlord has sold the house. She has to be out in a couple of months.”
“But isn’t the baby due then? The woman has a toddler, a baby on the way, no money and she has to move out of her home?”
“You sound like Summer.” She stared at the cracker only to realize she suddenly wasn’t hungry.
“The woman is living a nightmare.”
“She’s going to see Peter tomorrow. Hopefully he’ll have some answers. If he can get out of jail, then he’ll be around to help.”
“How is he supposed to make bail? Didn’t you say he shot at the police when they came to arrest him? If that’s true, bail won’t be cheap.” Her mother looked at her. “To quote Princess Leia, you’re their only hope.”
“No, I’m not. I empathize, but she and I barely know each other. I’ll help with the business. As for the rest of it, I’m sure she’ll figure out something.”
Her mother patted her hand. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Erica eyed her. “You don’t mean that.”
“Of course not, but I’m a warm, generous person. I’ll let you have your delusions for as long as you can. Because in the end, it’s not an Allison issue, or even a Peter issue.”
Her mother was right. It was a Summer issue and Erica couldn’t do anything about that.
Allison read the instructions for the eighth time, then checked her reflection. She’d dressed in black maternity pants and a plain gray crew neck sweater that barely covered her huge belly. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry except her wedding ring and she hadn’t bothered with makeup. There was nothing provocative about her appearance.
She’d reduced the contents of her handbag to her wallet, her cell phone and her keys. She had a separate tote for Jackson that included extra diapers, a couple of toys, juice, a sippy cup, crackers and paper towels and wipes. She would leave her handbag in one of the lockers. Jackson’s tote, save a diaper, would stay in the car.
Despite going to bed right after she’d put down Jackson, she was exhausted. She’d tossed and turned, worrying about the upcoming visit and what to expect. She had a feeling TV and movies hadn’t prepared her for the reality of seeing her husband in jail.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. She still had a few minutes until she had to leave. Timing the drive was awkward—she wanted to arrive early, but not too early. Waiting outside for too long risked having her show up with a cranky toddler. But being late cut into her time with Peter.
“It’s not supposed to be this hard,” she murmured to herself, turning her attention to her son, who played with stacking rings on the living room floor.
At least he didn’t know what was going on, she thought. He still occasionally asked for his father, but was mostly happy hanging out with her. She was lucky that he was so easygoing and—
Someone knocked on the front door. Instantly cold rushed through her. It was nine thirty on a Saturday morning. Summer never showed up this early and Allison wasn’t expecting anyone. For a second she wondered if the police were here to trash her home the way they’d trashed Peter’s office. There was a second knock.
She crossed the small living room and opened the door, only to stare in surprise when she saw her former boss on the doorstep, several grocery bags on the porch by her feet.
“Liz?”
“Hi. Yes, it’s me. I thought about calling, but I didn’t know if you’d answer, so I risked stopping by.” Liz offered a tentative smile. “I hope that’s okay.”
