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“But Allison was? That’s almost worse. Summer adores her, so I know she’s nice, and she’s a good mom. How can this be her fault?”
“It’s not. It’s Peter’s fault. He’s the one who chose to take those actions. It’s his plan, his outcome and his responsibility. I’m saying something in their life caused him to go down that path. He would have always had the proclivity to cross the line. People who don’t wouldn’t have considered what he did an option.”
She eyed the deviled eggs. They were delicious on their own, but Seastar topped theirs with salmon gravlax, wasabi tobiko or truffle-ahi tartare. After spending at least fifteen seconds trying to pick, she muttered, “What the hell,” and put one of each on her plate.
“He stole from me,” she said, not meeting Killion’s gaze.
He was silent. She reached for her wine.
“I found out after the divorce, when the new accounting firm went over the books. He was siphoning off money. A few thousand here, a few thousand there. It added up to over a hundred thousand dollars.” She looked away. “I thought he was angry and it was about revenge.”
“It was more than that.”
“I don’t want to think that, but given where he is right now, what else could it be?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” She ate one of the deviled eggs. “He totally fooled me.”
“He fooled you both. That’s something you have in common.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, please. So we should sit down over a cup of tea and discuss the man we both married? I don’t think so.”
“It would be therapeutic.”
“Not happening.”
“The more you get to know her, the less you’ll worry that Summer will one day love her more.”
She snapped up her head and stared at him. “What did you say?”
“What you’ve felt deep inside but have been afraid to articulate.”
Heat stained her cheeks and she looked away. “That’s crazy. You’re wrong. I would never think that. Summer’s my daughter. We have a bond that will never be broken. I’m hardly concerned about how she feels about Peter’s current wife.”
His green eyes gave nothing away as he shrugged and casually said, “You’re right. I was reaching. I take it back.”
“As you should. Let’s change the subject.”
He mentioned a project at work and she commented. The ridiculous statement about Summer loving Allison more was soon in the past. Unfortunately for Erica, it wasn’t forgotten and as she drove home an hour later, she was unable to get it out of her mind.
Killion was wrong about her, wrong about her daughter. Summer was softhearted and yes, she cared about Allison and Jackson. It was her nature, nothing more. Erica wasn’t going to lose her, certainly not to someone like Allison.
17
By the time Erica arrived home she’d nearly convinced herself that she’d forgotten Killion’s ridiculousness. She ignored the strange car in the third bay of the garage and the stacks of furniture and boxes in the fourth as she walked toward the door leading to the house. It was nearly nine thirty and she’d been hoping to find a dimly lit mudroom and a quiet downstairs. Instead lights were on everywhere and the sound of a high-pitched toddler shriek echoed off the walls.
“Jackson, no. It’s late. You need to be in bed.”
Allison’s voice sounded desperate and exhausted. Erica would guess that there had been too many changes for the little boy to process and he was too wound up to know he was tired.
“Go through the kitchen from that side and I’ll head him off this way,” Summer said, just as Erica walked in from the mudroom.
Seconds later a pajama-wearing child burst into the kitchen, spotted her and screamed happily. He barreled toward her, both arms outstretched. She dropped her bag and caught him as he launched himself.
“Did someone give you sugar?” she asked as he wrapped his skinny arms around her neck and buried his face in her shoulder. “Or caffeine? How are you, little man?”
He drew back and smiled at her, then planted a kiss on her cheek. Immediately after, his brows drew together and he pointed at her.
