At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

Mom looked up at me, and I shook my head. I didn’t think that was likely.

Her smile just widened. “I bet you are. You’ve always been a fighter. Just like me.”

Gran tipped her head slightly. Mom had never fought for anything. “If you say so. I’m just glad you’re here.”

She put her hand on Mom’s hand. One spotted with age and the other beginning to show the first signs of aging. One of the few places my mom showed any aging at all.

Maddox and I shared a glance. This had to be a charade. It had to be. When had Mom ever cared about Gran?

“Marley. Maddox. Could you give us a few minutes alone?” Mom asked.

I bristled, ready to throw it all back in her face, but Gran nodded.

“Just a minute, chickadee.”

I ground my teeth together but I could deny Gran nothing. I shoved the chair back and followed my brother out of the hospital room.

He glanced at me as we headed to grab some coffee. “What the hell do you think that’s about?”

“I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

“Me neither. Why does Gran still let her in?”

“I don’t think she can let her go. She has so much compassion.”

“That’s how you get hurt.”

He wasn’t wrong. Though I hated to hear it out of his mouth.

We came back with our gross hospital coffee a few minutes later to the sound of raised voices. I dashed the rest of the way and swung into the hospital room, sloshing steaming coffee on my hand and all over the tiled floor.

“What the hell is going on?”

But no one even acknowledged my entrance. Mom stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Gran was sitting up in her hospital bed and staring daggers at her daughter. I’d never seen that look on Gran’s face. She was eternally patient, forever compassionate, endlessly kind. Maddox and I had gotten into plenty of trouble growing up, and we’d never even heard her raise her voice. Let alone scream at someone.

“How dare you, Hannah!” Gran shouted. “I can’t believe that you would ask this of me.”

“How dare I?” my mom screamed back. “You’re the one who has always judged me for my choices.”

“Judged you? I have always been here for you. I raised your own children for you. I helped them the way I apparently never helped you. I’ve always given you everything you could ever ask for. And still, you do this?”

My mom rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been high and mighty. As if you’re so much better than me. Well, news flash: you’re not.”

“I never insinuated a thing. I simply wanted what was best for you.”

“What I want is to marry a rich guy who is going to take care of me. Tell me that makes you so proud,” my mom spat.

“You have no idea what you want,” Gran said. She shook her head. “I wish it were as simple as finding a man who loved you, but love was never enough for you. You always had to have more. You always had to take and take and take from every relationship, Hannah Marie. Never satisfied until you drained the relationship dry.”

“Stop,” I pleaded. “Just take a walk and cool off.”

“No. That’s not it. What I wanted was a mother who saw me for who I was and not what you wanted to mold me into. I’m not you, Mom!”

“I never wanted you to be me! I just wanted to love you. And I wanted you to love me for something other than a bank,” Gran spat.

Mom shook her head. “So, are you going to give me the money or not?”

I gasped. “You came here for money?”

Maddox whistled. “That’s low, even for you.”

“She’s sick. She called you because she’s in the hospital, and you used it as an opportunity to come in here and extort her for more money?” I couldn’t fathom it. My mother was a terrible person. But… how? How could she be like this?

“She’s sick, but she’s not dead,” my mom spat. “Not yet.”

I gasped at the words. Maddox winced. But Gra… Gran was devastated. Her face fell. Tears came to her eyes. Her body shook at the words. At the callous way she’d thrown it out there. As if she didn’t even care if Gran died. She’d finally get a portion of Gran’s money. She’d get the house. She’d ruin Gran’s legacy with her obsession with youth and money and men.

“Leave,” Gran said, so soft that I barely heard it.

“What did you say?” Mom asked.

“I said, leave. It’s over, Hannah. You’ll get no more money from me.”

“What? Mom?”

“No. I gave and gave and gave. I respected your choices. I had compassion for your pain. I accepted all of that. But I can’t accept that you would rather have me dead than alive. I can’t sit here and be disrespected any longer.”