The bubbles appear again and I wait.
Daisy:I’m fine, why?
Daisy:And I know. Your number hasn’t changed since high school.
The second message has me glaring at the screen.
Your number hasn’t changed since high school.Meaning that she kept my number. When she disconnected hers and cut off all form of contact, she kept my number.
Yep. That feels like a sucker punch to the gut.
Daisy: You’re obsessing about the fact I still have your number, aren’t you?
I huff a disbelieving laugh and shake my head.
Me:You know me so well.
Daisy:Killian…
Me:It’s fine, Dais.
Daisy:So, why did you want to know if I’m okay?
Me:Mabel Fairhope told me you ran into my mom.
Daisy:Ahh. Didn’t have Mabel pegged as a gossip, but yes, I did. And yes, she still hates me.
My stomach sinks and I drop my head back against the seat in frustration.
I don’t want people giving Daisy shit over something that has nothing to do with them. First, Noah gave her shit and now, my mom.
Me:I’m sorry.
Daisy:Don’t be.
Another text pops up at the top of my screen.
Bella:You heard about mom?
Me:Yup. Heading over there now.
Bella:Good luck.
I drop my phone into the passenger seat and back out of the parking lot.
The drive to my childhood home is a short one and within minutes I’m pulling into my mom’s driveway. I let the truck idle for a moment as I stare out of the windscreen at the derelict house, I once called home.
The once white paint is now chipped and more of a murky grey from years of neglect. The grass on the front lawn is more mud than anything, and the cracked flowerpots lining the porch hold nothing but dead weeds.
When I first moved out, I was over here once a week to keep up with the yard work. It was more about keeping up appearances to the rest of the town than it was for my mom. I didn’t want people to know exactly how bad things had gotten since my dad left.
But after a while, I gave up trying to keep up appearances. Everyone knew who my mom was and what she had become. She stole from local businesses. Made enemies of her lifelong friends. With every passing day, she tarnished her reputation and once Bella moved out, I washed my hands with her and this place entirely.
Kind of.
I take a deep, steadying breath and climb out of the truck.
The porch steps groan beneath my work boots as I approach the front door and before I even lift my hand to knock, it swings open, revealing my mother in all her glory.
