Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Could he even do that?
“I’d like to see her now. I’ll also be speaking to her lawyer about this. Including the way you’ve treated and spoken to me.”
“Now, see here—” he blustered.
“I would like to see her now.” She was proud of how firm she kept her voice. That it didn’t waver or crack.
Even though on the inside she felt like she was falling apart.
Save it until you’re on your own.
Caren had learned how to be strong, how to stick up for herself and not let people pull her down. Generally, she did it with a smile on her face. It tended to put them off-guard.
But she couldn’t muster up that level of acting right now. It was all she could do to stop herself from losing it.
His face was red, bordering on purple as he picked up his phone to call the poor woman from the front desk. She looked apprehensive as she came to collect Caren.
“I’ll take you to her main carer,” she said, sneaking looks at Caren.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“For what it’s worth, the people who work here really care about the patients. Your mom is getting the best of care. Mr. Peterson is just . . . well, he’s in charge of the finances and running the place. Not the people within it.”
Caren nodded at her words, managing a small smile. “Thanks.” Several doors were open and she peeked through to find large rooms with a double bed and small lounge area. They looked like mini-studio apartments. And she relaxed further.
“Hey, Brenna, this is Ms. Stanford. Martha’s daughter,” the girl said to an older woman who had just stepped into the corridor from a room.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t know what time you were coming.”
“Yes, sorry,” Caren said with a tight smile.
“No matter. I didn’t tell her that you were coming in case something happened. Didn’t want to disappoint her.”
Oh, Caren doubted she’d be disappointed. Well, maybe she would since it seemed she had Caren on her mind a lot.
“If you’d come with me, Ms. Stanford,” Brenna said with a curious look.
Probably wondering why Caren was barely talking.
“Call me Caren,” she said quietly. “Sorry, I’m still recovering from my meeting with Mr. Peterson.”
“Oh.” The woman grimaced. “Sorry if he upset you.”
“I think he wants me to move my mother because she’s upsetting everyone.”
Brenna sighed and came to a stop. “Do you want a polite lie or the full truth? I’m saying this because I’m guessing you don’t have the best relationship with your mother.”
She grimaced. “Listen, if you’re going to lecture me on visiting her more—”
“No, no, that’s not my intention at all. Trust me, I understand that not everyone has a good relationship with their family. And, honestly, from what I have seen and heard, I understand why you might be keeping your distance from Martha. She is . . . well, she’s interesting.”
“You can be blunt. I’d bet she’s rude, entitled, self-absorbed and from what Mr. Peterson said, occasionally violent.”
“Yes, but this disease can affect people in different ways.”
“Oh, but she was all those things before,” she said without thought. Shit.
Sympathy filled Brenna’s face.
“But she just hid it better back then, I guess.”
“I just wanted to tell you that she talks about you a lot and much of it isn’t that nice. You shouldn’t take it to heart, though. I was going to say it was likely due to the disease.”
“I get it,” she whispered. “Believe me, I really do. I’m mainly just here to check on this place and on you, I guess. Sorry, no insult intended. You seem very good at your job.”
And she knew it had to be one of the hardest jobs there was.
“Thank you. And I totally understand. Come on, she’s in her room. She doesn’t really like to get out and socialize, which is a shame.”
“She was never much of a socializer,” Caren told her. “She was a workaholic.”
“Ahh, yes, she likes to give us some insights into our behavior and personalities. It’s been . . . enlightening.”
“Take it with a heavy grain of salt. I mean, I’m sure you do.”
“We do.” Brenna stopped outside a door, taking Caren in.
Caren gave her a nod and then followed her into a large room that felt kind of cramped due to the enormous piano in the corner.
God. Her stomach dropped. She hadn’t expected to see the piano. She could still remember the lessons. It was the one time her mother had taken an interest in her.
And God, she wished she hadn’t.
Her knuckles still had faint scars from when she’d made them bleed with her ruler. Her mother was a very intelligent woman with a high level of education.
And yet, she’d thought using corporal punishment would help Caren become a better pianist. Instead, she’d been terrorized to the point of being crippled with anxiety and fear every time a lesson had rolled around.