I Paid His Down Payment, But My Son Thanked His Stepmom Instead Chapter 09

That was all I said.

Rourke walked over and crouched in front of me, looking up at me like he used to.

One button on his suit was still done up wrong.

I used to fix it for him every time I noticed.

This time, I didn’t reach out.

I just watched the boy crouching down in front of me.

“Mom, yell at me. Hit me, I don’t care.”

“Just don’t look at me like that. I can’t take it.”

He spread the crayon drawing across my lap. The paper was splitting along the folds.

Three little figures stood hand in hand.

“Mom, I’ll tear up the IOU as soon as I get home.”

“I’ll sell the house and pay you back every cent. Please come home and live with me.”

“I’ll take care of you from now on. You’ll never be alone again.”

I ran my fingers over the drawing.

The mother in it wore a dress, a big smile on her face.

Back then, I really was happy.

“Rourke.”

“That money was my wedding gift to you. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“I’m fine here. Don’t feel guilty.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“And I don’t want you to owe me, either.”

He went completely still, tears caught in his eyes.

I knew he understood.

I wasn’t blaming him, and I wasn’t punishing him. I was just letting go of the last thread.

Atnine, a staff member knocked and told us visiting hours were over.

Junie stood and opened the door.

“Mr. Callahan, time to go.”

Rourke got to his feet and walked to the door. Then he turned back.

“Mom, I’ll come again tomorrow.”

I didn’t answer.

Once the door closed, the tears Junie had been holding back all evening finally spilled over.

“Ms. Marchetti, you still care about him. Why won’t you go home with him?”

I folded the crayon drawing and tucked it inside the old bank statement.

“Caring is one thing.”

“Going back is another.”

It took me sixteen years to get out of that house. I wasn’t about to walk back in.

The next morning, though, it wasn’t Rourke who showed up.

It was Tamsin.

She wore a beige coat, her face pale-she did look like she’d just gotten out of the hospital.

When she came in, she still greeted me by name. “Delphine.”

Just like twenty-odd years ago, at my front door. She didn’t sit down or cry.

Instead, she took a folder from her bag and placed it on my desk. It contained the deed to Rourke’s

new house.

She opened it and pointed to one line.

“Delphine, Rourke said last night he wants to sell the house and pay you back. You need to talk him

out of it.”

“He can’t sell it on his own.”

I looked down at the deed.

Two names under co-owners. Rourke. Tamsin.

I stared at the names and said nothing.

Tamsin sat down across from me, closed the folder, and pressed her palm down on it..

“Delphine, don’t blame me.”

“When Rourke and his wife applied for the mortgage, they didn’t know the first thing about. I handled all the paperwork.”

“The bank said adding another co-owner would make approval easier, so I put my name on it.”

She said it so casually, as if she were talking about a cashier handing her two extra dollars in change.

“What about the IOU?” I asked.

“That was for his own good, too.”

She smoothed the hem of her coat and looked up at me. The nervousness in her

“Delphine, I’m forty-six.”

“I never had children of my own, and I can’t have any.”

“Barrett’s ten years older than me. When he’s gone, who do I have?”

eyes

faded.

“My name’s on the house, and I’ve got the IOU. That means Rourke takes care of me for life.”