“Everything,” Sally choked out. “She told me everything.”
I sucked in a breath. “Well, I guess you’d better come in for some tea.”
“Vodka would be better, darling,” Sally corrected, making her way inside.
So that’s how my ex-mother-in-law and I ended up sitting in my kitchen, sipping vodka at one in the afternoon. She’d been silent as I got the glasses, the ice, while I poured them. I’d stolen a few glances at her as she wandered around, taking in the space.
It was nothing like the home she helped me decorate.
The walls were covered with mismatched frames, candid photos in each one. The sofa boasted multiple pillows that didn’t match. The counters were cluttered to communicate the home was lived in. Everything was clean, tidy, of course, but it was warm, casual, bursting with both mine and Swiss’s personalities.
I pushed a glass over to her, wary of what was to come. Violet had told her everything. And that had pushed her to come here. But to what end, I didn’t know.
Sally took the glass and raised it to me, face melancholy. “To your nuptials,” she murmured, nodding to my left hand.
I glanced down at the ring I was going to wear for the rest of my life.
“Sally—” I began, unable to find the words.
“Violet said you’re happy,” she cut in. “And seeing you, here in this lovely home, one that feels like a home, I tend to agree with her. I also feel as if I’ve never seen you happy. So we’re toasting to that, to your happiness.”
Unable to argue with her, I raised my glass, taking a long sip.
Sally did the same.
The silence between us was thick. I didn’t say anything. She came here with a purpose, so I let her steer the ship.
“Will you forgive me?” Her voice shook as she set down her glass.
“Forgive you?” I questioned. “For what?”
“For not seeing,” she replied, voice breaking. “For not noticing what he was doing to you for years. For raising a son who could do that.”
I blinked at her. I hadn’t known what to expect from Sally. She was not a cruel person. Did not have a mean bone in her body. She had never treated me with anything but kindness. But she was also a mother. I understood she needed her son to be the hero. No one wanted to believe their child was a monster.
“I don’t blame you, either of you,” I told her honestly. “I could never blame you. I love both you and Frank.”
“We love you too, honey,” she replied through tears. “Which is why we are here. Why we will never speak to Preston again.”
“But… he’s your son,” I gasped, unable to process what that meant. That she was saying that.
“He is,” she looked down in shame. “In nothing but name now, though. I will have nothing to do with him. His father will have nothing to do with him.” She reached over to squeeze my hand. “You are my daughter, darling. If not by name or blood, in every other way. You and Violet are everything to me. To both of us.” She looked around the house. “I know you’ve got a new family now, a new life, but we’d love to find a way to fit into it… if you’ll have us?”
“Of course, I’ll have you,” I said without hesitation, pulling her into my arms.
We both cried for a long time.
She stayed with us for a couple of days, meeting Swiss and the rest of the club. I knew the biker lifestyle made her figuratively clutch her pearls on instinct, but she did not pass judgment. Not even a little. She made an effort to get to know Swiss, to speak to everyone. Shit, she even had a beer… something I’d never seen her drink.
And, on Christmas, her and Frank were at our table. Along with Swiss’s parents, who I’d gently urged him to invite. They were not as at ease as my former in-laws, who had somehow taken to my new lifestyle, after the sticker shock wore off.
They kept looking at their son like he was a stranger—which I guessed he was to them. They mostly kept to themselves but made an effort to speak to me and Violet. I knew that this was not the life they’d wanted for their son, but I also prayed they’d accept him. Especially now that he was happy. It was not something that would happen overnight.
But they were family.
We were all a family.
And that’s what mattered.