Page 90 of Savage Heart

I turn to Otis in shock and disbelief. “I can’t take it. That thing probably costs more than my trailer.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t afford something like this.”

“You don’t owe a cent.”

My stomach drops. “Otis.”

He finally looks at me fully, his expression softening just a notch. “It’s yours, Iris. It was time to give Betty a rest.” He grins again, and his eyes widen when I start crying.

“I can’t just take this. It’s—it’s way too much.”

He puts his hands on my arms and leans down slightly. “It’s yours, and I suggest you enjoy it.”

He pulls back and presses something cold into my palm. Keys.

I glance back at the car, sunlight glinting off the windshield. “She is really pretty.”

“And reliable. Safe. Everything Betty was not,” Otis adds.

“I can’t believe this.” I blink fast. “You’re impossible,” I mutter.

Otis just smiles. “You’ve got angels looking out for you.”

I hug him. “You are an angel.”

He bursts out laughing. “It’s not me, honey girl. I’m no angel.”

I kiss his cheek. “You are to me.”

He sighs, and his lips part to argue with me again. I curl my fingers around the keys, heart full and aching.

“Let’s go for a ride!” Linc says. “What should we name her, Mom?”

“Hmm. Well, she’s so nice and shiny. I’m not sure. What do you think?”

“How about Jacquelyn?” he says.

I giggle, and he starts laughing too. “Jacquelyn. I like it. Does she ever go by Jackie?”

“She looks too fancy for a Jackie,” he says, and we laugh harder.

“You’re right, she does. Jacquelyn it is.”

We go for a long ride, and then I go to Shadowbrook to see Mom while Linc and Otis go back to Otis’s junkyard. Linc loves it out there. I sit in the parking lot for a moment, enjoying the feel of my new car. I can’t believe Otis did this.

Hopefully Mom will be in a good mood today. It’s always a gamble.

She’s by the window when I walk in, cardigan folded neatly over her lap, hair brushed. When she sees me, her face brightens in a smile.

“Hello,” she says carefully.

“Hi.” I don’t call her Mom because I don’t want to confuse her.

She leans over and tells me the pudding at lunch was terrible, and we laugh.

Then something in me cracks open.