“I called her.” Bea fidgeted with the butter knife next to her plate. “I knew something had to be seriously wrong for you to want to stay here. But she refused to talk to me. That’s when I called everyone else.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Riley stared at them. Her friends hadn’t said a word, but they were still watching her with a mix of incredulity and betrayal. Riley hoped she came across as cool on the outside, because inside she was a shaky mess.
“How can you treat your grandmother this way?” Viola burst into tears. “She’s the sweetest, kindest, most loving, most sacrificing, saintly person I know.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick,” Peg whispered.
It wasn’t empty flattery to Riley. Her grandmother was all those things, despite the hurt and anger coursing through her.
“You’re breaking her heart.” Viola sniffed. “After everything she’s done for you.”
“I never said I was staying here permanently.” Riley hated the tremor in her voice, but she couldn’t stop it. “She always knew I was going back to New York.”
Harper’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t know that.”
“Me either,” Anita added, her eyes growing wide.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Olivia said, holding out her palms.
Riley couldn’t face any of them right now. She was the one who was hurt, but they were making her feel like the bad guy.
“We saw Tracey at church yesterday,” Myrtle said. “We know she’s a part of what happened between you and Erma.”
Riley glanced away. “I’m not gonna talk about her.” For some unknown reason she again slipped into the Southern accent she’d tried so hard to get rid of when she moved east.
“That’s good, because we’re not discussing her either. She’s done enough damage to you and Erma over the years.” Gwen’s words were strong, but her tone held compassion. “And I’m sorry about that.”
“Me too,” the BBs all said in unison.
“It doesn’t matter,” Riley said. “The past is the past.”
“If that’s the case, then why aren’t you leaving it there?”
Riley glowered at Peg, who had removed her bright-red-framed glasses. Riley could see tears in her eyes too.
“Why are you punishing your grandmother?” Bea moaned.
“Whatever happened, it wasn’t her fault,” Viola mumbled. “I’m sure Tracey boxed her into it. She’s always made trouble for Erma, even though Erma always tried her best.”
“Shh,” the BBs chastised.
“Right. No Tracey talk.”
The ever-present shame Riley tried to keep at a distance her entire life was filling her once again. Suddenly she burst into sobs—deep, soul-crushing sobs, as every bit of her inner strength left her.
“Oh, honey.” Bea got up and put her arms around Riley, who in turn wrapped her arms around Bea’s thick waist. “It’s all gonna be okay.”
Riley barely heard her as she cried oceans of tears that had been trapped inside far too long. Painful memories surfaced, things she had witnessed in childhood and never told anyone. The horrible things Tracey would say to her when she was drunk or high. The times she wondered if she’d ever eat again. The prayers she’d said over and over that Mimi, or anyone, would take her away from her mother forever—and the guilt she felt every time she’d uttered that prayer.
Soon all the BBs were crowding around her. One stroked her hair. Another patted her back. Yet another grasped the fingers of one of her hands on the back of Bea’s waist. Myrtle cooed that they were there for her and Mimi, that they wouldn’t let Tracey hurt them again. The love she had craved for so long from her mother, but never received, was being poured into her by these lively Southern ladies, and Riley suddenly realized that they were her family too. She saw her own buddies, all three of them, standing behind Erma’s friends, nodding in agreement.
When she didn’t have a tear left to shed, she lifted her head. “Can I have a tissue?”
“Of course, honey.” Peg snatched a napkin off the table. “Use this.”
Riley blew her nose as they all returned to their seats. She knew she needed to apologize, but all she could say was, “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Riley.” Bea smiled, her double chin quaking. “We’re here for you.”
