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Jocelyn woke up Saturday morning, flat on her stomach in a strange bed, and surrounded by pillows. She raised herself up on an elbow and scooped long blonde hair out of her face.
"Where...?"
Details of the previous day flooded into her sleep-fogged brain. William's house. She flopped onto her back. My house.
"My house." She said the words aloud, trying them on for size. Her unbridled laughter split the early morning solitude. "My house! Oh wait till Andrew hears this." She grabbed the phone from the bedside table and punched in the number.
"Morning, doll. How did it go?"
"It's my house!"
"What?"
"William's house, Andrew. This big old rambling house sitting in the middle of three acres is mine."
A second or two of silence greeted her news. "Are you high?"
"Only on life and good news."
"Want to share?"
She shoved pillows against the headboard and settled back. "William never filed for divorce."
"What?"
"Surprised me too. And it gets better. He never changed the will he made right after Scottlyn was born. The house, and everything in it, is mine, along with half of whatever money he left behind.
"Yeah?"
"I just scored us the biggest payday of our lives and all you can say is yeah? This has to be the biggest game changer in the history of scams." Jocelyn paused for a second to offer a prayer of gratitude on the altar of avarice. The thought of living off whatever cash she could con out of Scottlyn evaporated. "The rules have changed...big time. I think I need to stick here for a while and play the doting mother and grandmother until the legal stuff pans out."
Andrew groaned into the phone. "That could take months. Have you forgotten that we need some immediate cash? And may I remind you, you don't do kids."
The reminder soured her mood. She drummed her fingers on the mattress. Why did he have to be so impatient and shortsighted? "I can handle the kid in small doses for the sort of payday this could net us. As for our cash flow problems, let me see if I can find some things around here that won't be missed. I'll call you in a day or two."
"I guess that works. I'll be missing you by then."
Jocelyn grinned at the lust she heard in his voice. "You just keep my side of the bed warm for me."
She said good-bye, stretched, and rolled out of the bed. Food and exploration beckoned. She pulled on the pair of jeans and a baggy T-shirt Scottlyn had brought over the night before. Borrowed from Diana, whoever that was. The fit wasn't the best, but it beat the dress and heels she'd worn all day yesterday. She slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops with a sigh of relief. The new heels might be her current pride and joy, but they'd pinched her toes unmercifully by the end of the long day yesterday.
She slid them under the edge of the bed. She hadn't splurged on something so nice in a long time, and she needed to take care of them. I can have whatever I want soon. The thought made her giddy.
Jocelyn fussed in front of the mirror. Always conscious of the role she played, today she went less for the grieving widow and more for the adoring grandmother. She considered leaving her face bare of makeup, but in the end, vanity won out. She might have to play a grandma, but she refused to look like one.
A search of the cabinets in the kitchen produced some coffee. Once it was brewing, she assessed possible breakfast choices, deciding on toast slathered in butter and strawberry preserves.
Jocelyn took both to the table, sipped, chewed, and tried to figure out the next step in her altered plan of action.
The way she saw it, manipulating Scottlyn would be a breeze, even long term. That boyfriend of hers would be a different story though. With every one of his looks, he probed for a flaw in her story. She had three options. Find a way to get into his good graces, find a way to shut him up, or find a way to drive a wedge between him and Scottlyn. She balled up her napkin and tossed it in the direction of the waste can. "I'm not real picky about which one works."
***
"FIDDLE!" SCOTTLYN GRABBED a napkin and sopped up the sloshed coffee.
"Nervous?" Diana asked.
"What was the first clue?" Scottlyn stared at the dark stain spreading across her light pink shirt. She pulled the wet fabric away from her skin, scooted back from the table, and stripped the soiled shirt off as she walked into the laundry room that adjoined the kitchen. She spread the shirt out on top of the closed washer and sprayed it with a stain remover, marveling at the way her hands shook in the process.
Diana's voice drifted in from the other room. "I finished your laundry while you were at your father's house yesterday. There's a stack of clean shirts on the dryer."
Scottlyn grabbed a replacement. What would I do without Diana? The thought gave her pause. I have two mothers now. She smoothed the shirt and went back to the kitchen. She stopped behind Diana's chair and wrapped the woman in a hug. "Have I told you lately how very much I love you?"
Diana patted her hand. "It was just a load of laundry, sweetheart. They were already dry. All I did was fold them."
"Today." Scottlyn let her go and circled back to her chair. "It's so much more than that. It's the little things you do for me and Mercie every day. We have a roof over our heads because of you, and not once have you made us feel like you regretted the decision to make a home for us. No one has ever loved me like that. I'm so blessed to have you in my life."
The older woman's eyes misted. "That's a very mutual feeling, sweetheart. You aren't the only one blessed by our cobbled-together family." Diana took her empty coffee cup to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. When she turned around, she leaned against the cabinet. "Tell me about your mother."
Scottlyn ran her fingers around the edge of her mug, her eyes focused on the creamy chocolate flavored brew she favored. "She's...sad." Scottlyn took a drink of the lukewarm beverage. "And lost, and alone." She lifted her gaze. "Those are dismal words, aren't they? I need to find a way to change them to happier adjectives."
Diana crossed her arms. "Do you think that's your responsibility?"
Scottlyn studied Diana's expression. There was something guarded in the older woman's face. She looked a lot like Grant had looked last night. Just a little pained by the whole situation. Why couldn't they just be happy for her? Scottlyn's shoulder lifted. "Maybe not my responsibility, but she's my mother." She tilted her head. "I don't want you to be threatened by that. Having her here won't change our relationship. I need to get to know her...help where I can. Doesn't the Bible say to honor my parents?"
The corners of Diana's mouth lifted in a quick smile. "Yes, it does. But it also says to be wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove." She crossed the room, reclaimed her seat, and took Scottlyn's hand in hers. "I'm not worried about our relationship, sweetheart. I just want you to be careful."
Scottlyn's brows drew together into a frown. "What do you mean?"
"I wish I knew. I just feel the need to tell you to be careful. Be watchful. Be cautious. Keep your ears tuned to the small voice inside your heart. Satan doesn't always come at us as a roaring lion. Sometimes he shows up meek and mild...sad, lost, and alone, wearing the face of the one thing we've always wanted."
Scottlyn squeezed Diana's hand. "I'll be careful, but right now, I have to pick up Mercie and take Mom shopping. She can't spend two or three days in a single pair of jeans."
An hour later, Scottlyn parked her red Rav4 in the driveway of her father's home. She looked into the backseat where Mercie sat, strapped into her car seat. "Remember what I said?"
Mercie's blue eyes crinkled in a smile. "That I have to be on my bery best 'havior." She frowned at the strange house. "Because I'm meeting Grandma Joyce."
Scottlyn smiled. "That's close enough." She got out and unbuckled her daughter. They went up the walk together, and Scottlyn opened the door a crack. "Mom?"
"Come on in, baby."
The door swung open, and Scottlyn led Mercie inside. She gave her mother a quick hug. "Did you get some rest last night?"
"Yes, thanks. The bed is great." Jocelyn stopped and looked down. "And who is this little cutie?"
"This is Mercie, your granddaughter."
When Jocelyn stooped down, Mercie held out her right hand. Both of the women laughed.
Scottlyn put a hand on Mercie's shoulder." I told her to be on her best behavior."
Jocelyn shook the small hand and patted the child on the head. She stood up and faced Scottlyn. "I just fixed a second cup of coffee. Would you like a cup before we head out?"
Mercie tugged at her hand before she could answer. She pointed at the TV across the room. "Can I watch cartoons?"
Scottlyn looked from her daughter to her mother. Neither one seemed very interested in getting to know the other. She pushed the disappointment aside. A three-year-old and a woman just out of prison...a little awkwardness with each other seemed normal. Hopefully some of that would melt as they spent the day together. She smiled at her mother. "Coffee sounds great. Just let me get Mercie settled, and I'll join you in the kitchen."
She found a station running Dora the Explorer. "Is this good?"
Mercie crawled up onto the sofa and clapped her hands. "Yes!"
"OK. Sit here until we're ready to go." She went into the kitchen and found her mother sitting at the table, her head bent over the comic section of the morning paper.
Jocelyn waved at the coffee pot. "Help yourself. I'm just catching up on my daily reading."
Scottlyn grinned. She liked the comics best, too. As a rule, the news was too depressing. "What's your favorite?"
"Garfield." Her mother answered without hesitation. "Love that sassy cat. Yours?"
Scottlyn looked over her mother's shoulder. "I'm with you. The cat is hilarious. I miss Snoopy though."
"Mommy, look."
Scottlyn turned around and saw Mercie standing in the doorway. Her shoes had been abandoned, and she teetered forward in a pair of spiky black heels. "What have you got?"
Jocelyn turned as well. "My shoes!"
Mercie looked up at the shouted words, tripped, and fell. The shoes came off of the child's small feet. One landed with a broken heel.
Jocelyn jumped from the table. "Look what you've done!" She grabbed her shoes and glared down at Mercie.
Scottlyn swooped in to grab her baby just before Jocelyn's raised hand descended.