“Hate to share this with you, baby, but there’s some pretty serious stubborn on that side of the family too. Apparently, Mom’s dad was not only ticked she’d fallen down the rabbit hole of drink and drugs, he was pissed way the hell off she got divorced. It’s my understanding they weren’t Bible thumpers, but they were religious and traditional and conservative. More, they really liked Dad. Can’t say they were big fans of Granddad’s, but I honestly don’t know. Mom cut them out, so I didn’t know them very well.”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this wasn’t starting out well.
However, I was still surprised, mostly because, considering Belinda’s chaotic and wasteful use of the resources at her disposal, I’d think she’d tap in to all that were available.
“Your mom cut them out?”
“I was really young when we moved down to Texas, I don’t remember a lot of it. But I do remember there was fighting. Drama. Grandma crying. Grandpa shouting. One of my friends’ moms made mention about how they tried to get hold of me through the courts when it became clear Mom wasn’t going to find the right path, but Granddad got in their way.”
I felt my mouth tighten.
Judge didn’t miss it.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
“One of your friends’ moms?”
“I still have friends here, babe. You’ll meet them Wednesday. Granddad isn’t the only one who’s been blowing up my phone. They’ve been calling, I just haven’t been picking up. They’ve also been texting, and that’s easier for me now, so that’s how we’re talking. The word is getting out. But back then, Mrs. Taylor said what she said in passing, and then Mr. Taylor gave her a look and she shut up. They probably thought it’d upset me. By the time I was old enough, free of all that shit and able to contact them and ask, I didn’t care.”
Mm.
“Anyway,” he continued, “between Mom not wanting anyone confronting her with her issues, and through love or any other reason making her face them, and Granddad not wanting anyone in the way of his direct line to me, they disappeared. I suspect from what I heard, and this was from Granddad, so take it with a grain of salt, part of the problem was Grandpa. He was standing staunch on the way he thought Mom should be, that way being clean and sober, and it wasn’t just her cutting them out, they cut her out too. Or he did. And by extension, me.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
It would seem, at every turn, that Jamie was in one way very correct.
Judge was caught in the crossfire of a lot of selfishness, self-righteousness and pride.
Regrettably, he wasn’t done with the story.
“Dad has made mention, though, that he reached out to them, undoubtedly to recruit them as allies. That said, he doesn’t badmouth them. Reading between the lines, there has to be some truth to what Granddad said. Because if they were all in to help, he’d have had them here, helping. And it was left unsaid, but it’s clear he did not.”
I remained silent.
Judge carried on.
“Grandpa died of a heart attack when I was seventeen. Mom forbade me to go to his funeral. Grandma came to visit me twice when I was at ASU. She was sweet, but it was awkward because I didn’t know her very well, and I sensed she was feeling frustration at that, and maybe some guilt at all that had gone down. She died about two weeks after I graduated. Mom was an only child, but they left me everything. Probably because they knew how Mom would use all they’d worked for their whole lives and left behind, and they didn’t want that. Also probably because Grandma was the last one standing, and she might not have been able to do it like she’d liked to have done it, but still, I knew she loved me.”
I did not break my silence, but for a different reason this time.
“Dad swooped in and did somewhat what he’s going to do with Mom’s house. To make it so I didn’t have to come back to Texas, he paid someone to go through their stuff and send me what was worth keeping, including pictures and heirlooms. The rest was auctioned and sold. It’s how I bought my house.”
Well, that explained why Judge had such a great home when he hadn’t taken any money from his father.
“You didn’t come to Texas for her funeral?”
“Explicit instructions,” he murmured, his tone odd. “She was cremated. Her ashes sent to me. In her will, it stated plainly that, not only did she not want a service, she didn’t want me in Texas. She asked that I,” he cleared his throat, “keep her if that was my wish, or put her somewhere I liked to be. I put her in the Dells.”