I heard the sliding doors that led to the patio opening. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was my mother. I stared straight ahead. It had already been a long night. And then to come home to this asshole at my front door? I didn't need any more shit. "Don't come out here with a lecture, mom."

 

She laughed. "A lecture? I should be coming out here with a belt, the way you were acting in there."

 

I turned and looked at her. "You know, I'd probably take the beating if it meant you'd talk to me."

 

She walked past me to the other side of the patio, plopping down on the edge of the lounge chair. "Jackson, what's wrong with you?"

 

"Are you really asking me this?" I shot back. "You know what's wrong."

 

"Do I?" She pointed back inside. "Is it Sheldon? Is that what has you acting like a three year old? Because I have to tell you, when you were actually three, you idolized him."

 

"When I was three, I didn't know any better." I picked up a fallen acorn from the wooden panels and tossed it. "As a matter of fact, I still don't."

 

"What does that mean, Jackson?"

 

"Why is he around?" I raised my voice and looked down at her. "Especially after what went down between him and Dad."

 

She looked up to me and shook her head. "You don't know the whole story, Jackson."

 

"I know that Dad banned him from the house. I know that he said he tried to bring the family down. I know he said he tried to cheat him out of money he didn't deserve. I know that Dad hated him. And I hated him after that."

 

"There's a lot your father didn't tell you," she countered. "Like his part in the whole thing. How he tried to set Sheldon up to take the fall for his shady dealings. How, if it wasn't for Sheldon handling things, your father probably would've been in jail for the rest of his life. And then he just tossed him aside when it was convenient."

 

"Stop." I paced back and forth on the patio, doing everything short of covering my ears.

 

"No, you need to hear this," she said, standing and stopping my pacing. "Sheldon was there for us when your father was too busy politicking. He did right by us. And your father. Until your father didn't want to deal with him anymore. The sad thing is—"

 

"What's the sad thing, mom?" I said sarcastically, cutting her off.

 

She looked me in the eyes. "The sad thing is that I believed your father. After everything Sheldon had done for us, I blindly believed that he would do wrong by us. When it wasn't true. And it wasn't until years later that I found out the truth." She placed her hand on my shoulder. "He's a good man, Jack."

 

"Whatever," I snapped, jerking my shoulder away. That's all I could say. I was defeated. I mean, how could I argue with her? How did I know my father didn't lie about that like he'd lied about so many other things throughout my life? It still didn't answer everything, though. 

 

I let out a huge sigh before turning and facing her. "What about you, mom? Are you lying about something now?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"You heard me," I pressed. "What are you not telling me?"

 

"Don't go there, Jackson."

 

"Go where?" I countered.

 

"There." She placed her finger in my chest and looked up at me. "I called you. I wanted to tell you everything. I kept calling you. You never answered the phone. You never called me back."

 

I backed away. "But—"

 

"But, nothing. So I came here, still trying to reach out to you. Trying to tell you everything. Everything."

 

"Well, here we are," I said, trying to brush the past few months aside as if it didn't matter. "Right here. You and me. And now you're not telling me anything."

 

"I wanted to. Until I got here and saw everything that was going on. And knew you weren't ready to know."

 

"What does that mean? What did I have going on?"

 

"Jackson, there was a dying woman in the same car as me my first night here. Someone you're very close to was almost arrested for her murder and went into a state of depression because of the guilt he felt for what he'd done. You had a lot on your plate."

 

My mind flashed back to that night, when all hell broke loose. My mother showing up, Red being missing, and then finally hearing from him with news that Sabrina was shot—by him? Talk about overwhelming. Shit. 

 

"Well, everything's better now," I said, trying to make a case for her telling me what I wanted to know. What I needed to know. "Please, tell me what's going on with you, mom. I'm ready now."

 

She sat back down on the lounge chair and nervously played with her hands. "Well, for the past few months I've—"

 

"Am I interrupting?" Sheldon said, sticking his head out onto the patio with all the timing of a dead watch.

 

"You damn sure are!" I snapped.

 

"Sorry about that," he said, smiling. "But Yanni wanted me to let you know that breakfast is ready."

 

"Yeah, well, thanks," I said, hoping he'd get the hint and step. "We'll be there in a minute."

 

"Nonsense," my mother said, standing and walking toward him. "We can't let the food get cold, can we?" She was like a little schoolgirl around this cat. She excitedly took Sheldon's hand as he led her inside. What the fuck?

 

"Mom, we were talking!" I stood on the patio, arms outstretched.

 

"We'll talk later, Jackson. Come on inside." Sheldon looked back with a grin that resembled the cat that swallowed the canary. Asshole.

 

I shook my head and went inside, knowing that the day wasn't going to end without me knowing everything. And what this jackass had to do with it.