“I know. If you do you will see that not so nice side of me.” She stepped back toward her desk. “Avery is helping put the gala together. Perhaps the two of you should get together and begin to make plans.”

“Is she going to be upset to have me helping her?”

Simone sat down behind her desk. “Do you want to work for your father?”

Tyler cringed. “No. Not really.”

“Avery feels much the same way. And since she has no interest in medicine either, she will not be following in her father’s footsteps. I think she will be happy you came back.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I think you will do very well here.”

~*~

Sitting in Fitz’s bedroom with their mother was nearly as excruciating as his funeral the day before, Courtney thought. Her mother had picked up nearly every item in his room and cried over it. She’d brought boxes and loaded them. Each box was labeled and Courtney also added a braille label as well. Her mother had said that the attic in the garage would be where the boxes would be stored and it would make sense if Courtney could identify the boxes as well.

Courtney didn’t understand the rush to get his items packed away. Wouldn’t it be okay to keep him around just a little longer? Wasn’t it bad enough he was gone for good? Did they have to hide him too?

She kept her calm knowing she’d taken the items she’d wanted. Tyler had helped her there. He’d been helping her quite a bit.

Did he understand that his kindness on the plane had helped her accept the mission she’d undertaken of escorting her brother home? Having him at the funeral had made it tolerable. Tyler had let her escape, he’d let her cry, he’d come when she called. How was it a man she’d known a week could change her life?

“I have a few more boxes in the car. I’ll be right back,” her mother said and she heard her leave the room.

Courtney laid back on her brother’s bed and let out a long breath. Was her mother right? Would the pain be less if all of his things were tucked away? Or would it hurt more to know that the room would be empty and he’d be gone—all of him?

“Courtney!” Her mother’s voice rang down the hall forcing her to sit up and then rise to her feet. “Courtney!”

She followed her mother’s voice to her own bedroom.

“Mother, what is it?”

“What did you do? What did you and that man do?”

Her mother’s voice shook and she could hear the tears being sucked back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your clothes are piled in the floor. You never scatter your things around. Courtney, you don’t know him.”

She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. Her heart rate kicked up to match the racing blood that coursed through her system.

“I can’t believe you can’t accept my word that nothing happened. I was in a hurry. I changed quickly.”

“He spent the night?”

“Mother, I’m nearly twenty-five years old. If I wanted a man to spend the night in my bedroom, in my house, I damn well better be able to do so. You have no room to discuss this with me.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why? Because you forgot that you had me at sixteen? You forgot that I don’t know my birth father?” The anger was fresh now. She wasn’t quite done. “If I had wanted Tyler Benson to share my bed than damn it, he’d have shared it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” her mother scolded.

“I’ll talk the way I want. I am an adult. I am tired of you treating me like a little girl who can’t do anything for herself. Fitz believed in me. Why can’t you?”

“You’re disabled. You need me.”

That was the breaking point. She knew that her mother was lucky she was disabled or she would find out just how much anger she’d stored her entire life. But she still had her words and she wasn’t done using them yet.

“I’d like to have you know that I can do anything. I’ve been told I see things those of you who have sight can’t see. Mother, I’m not the disabled one. You are. You’re emotionally disabled. I am perfectly capable of having a life and loving a man.”

“You love this man?”

“Is that all you’ve heard?” She lifted her hands in the air. “Maybe you’d better go.”

She’d never wanted to be alone so much in her life. It had been a good ten years since she’d mentioned her birth and paternity at her mother. But it was the one button she could push her mother’s buttons with. It was proof that everyone, even her mother, made judgment calls that cost them something dearly.

Courtney had never held her mother’s decisions against her—unless it benefited her in an argument like the one they were having. She’d only been three when the only father she’d ever known came into her life. Fitz was born just shy of her mother’s twenty-first birthday. Michael Field gave her stability. They traveled the world, the family of a soldier. He taught her discipline. He gave her a name. He loved her mother and that was the most important thing to her. And he loved her too.

He’d been known to stand up for Courtney when her mother’s emotional stability challenged her daughter. For the first year when Courtney was learning to live without her sight, her mother cried nearly everyday. But Courtney had heard her in one of her meltdowns. She regretted having a daughter that wasn’t normal anymore.

Only her father understood her mother enough that he knew she hadn’t meant it. Even Courtney knew she didn’t mean it. When Mary Field couldn’t control a situation words flew that she’d later beg to have taken back. Courtney was sure this would be one of those times. But for now she wanted her mother to leave.

She could hear her mother’s breath quicken. “Courtney, I don’t want you making decisions you can’t take back. I mean…I think you’d better…”

“Mother, I’m a grown up who understands my situation. I’m a blind woman. Fine, that’s not a problem really. But I understand the challenge. You had two kids living in Germany by the time you were my age. We all have challenges.”

“I don’t want to see you struggle.”

If that was what she was trying to protect her from, Mary Field was failing miserably.