Never Yours Again novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Tidy

In the back of a black car Constance offers Lucy two hundred thousand dollars to come back quietly; Lucy tears the check, and at Shawna's that night Camille Draper is waiting at the kitchen table.

I had met Constance Palgrave a dozen times in two years.

She had never once said my name correctly on the first try.

I got into the back of the car anyway, because I wanted to see her face when I said no.

She sat with her ankles crossed and a leather folder on her knee.

She was sixty-one, with a silver bob and pearl earrings, and she looked at me.

"Lucille," she said.

"Lucy."

"Lucy." She gave a very small smile. "Rhett tells me you've had a disagreement."

"He brought someone to our apartment."

"Yes. He mentioned a girl."

She said it.

The driver pulled into traffic, and Constance opened her folder.

"I'll be direct, because I'm told you prefer it. My son has a certain temperament. He likes to be wanted. When he isn't, he does foolish things."

"He had her in my guest room."

"In a guest room," said Constance. "The apartment is his, dear."

I stared at her.

She took out a slim blue check and laid it on the folder where I could read the number.

It was for two hundred thousand dollars.

"That's yours," she said. "No conditions. A person in your position is entitled to be compensated for an inconvenience."

"What's the inconvenience?"

"The scene at your workplace this morning, for one. I heard about it before you'd put the roses down." She tapped the check with one finger. "Rhett will take the apartment off the market for you and he'll apologize properly. You'll go home. You'll stop making public displays. You'll be tidy."

"Tidy."

"It's a kindness, Lucy. You've been very good for him. Even Ellis says so."

I looked at the check.

It was the first time anyone from that family had ever put a number on me.

It was also the most honest thing any of them had said.

"What happens if I say no?"

"Then you'll say no for a few weeks and you'll be tired." Her voice stayed calm. "Rents in this city are high. Your firm is small. People tire of being brave, dear, and then they come to me for the check."

"So you're paying me to be easy to have."

"I'm paying you to be sensible."

She leaned back.

"Rhett told me you still keep a gray jacket from the gala," she said. "He thought it was sweet. A sentimental girl."

My hand tightened on my bag.

"It's mine."

"Of course it is."

Her face didn't change at all.

I looked at it a moment longer than I meant to, then looked away.

I picked up the check.

I read the number once more, two hundred thousand dollars, which was more money than my mother had ever held at once.

Then I tore it in half, and again in half, and laid the pieces on her folder one at a time.

"I want to be very clear," I said. "I'm not sensible. I'm not tired. And I'm not tidy."

Constance looked down at the pieces.

"You'll be surprised how quickly that wears off."

"Maybe."

"Rhett always gets his way, Lucy. It isn't cruelty. It's weather."

"Then I'll bring an umbrella."

I opened the car door at a red light.

"Mrs. Palgrave," I said. "You brought a checkbook for a girl you say will crawl back. That isn't confidence."

I got out and slammed the door.

I walked the last six blocks back to my office with my hands curled so tight my nails left marks.

It wasn't until I got to the lobby that I realized I'd left my sandwich in the car.

I laughed, and then I had to hold the wall for a second.

The rest of the day I worked.

I called the caterer.

I corrected the spelling of the doctor's name again.

I did not check my phone more than twice an hour.

By evening Rhett had sent fourteen messages.

Most said the same thing.

"Come home."

"Mother says you were rude."

"You owe me an apology."

The last one said, "I've told everyone you're visiting your mom."

I didn't answer.

I put my phone in my bag and rode the train to Shawna's with my forehead against the window.

When I opened her apartment door, the kitchen light was on.

Shawna sat at the table with her arms crossed and a mug of cold tea in front of her.

Across from her sat a tall blond woman with a green coat folded over the chair.

I knew the coat.

I knew the ankles.

Camille Draper looked up at me with eyes that were very red.

"Lucy?" she said, and her voice was shaking. "I think we need to talk. Did he tell you he was single, too?"

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