The sadness still lingered. Not because of the kiss, but because of everything that came after: the accusation that she’d led him on, his angry exit, the breakup that followed—like dominoes toppling in slow motion.
She forced herself to stop the thought before it unraveled further.
Beth shook her head, trying to chase away the memory. “Goodness gracious, I haven’t thought about that night in years. Why now?”
“Still talking to yourself, honey?”
Beth looked up to find her mom in the doorway, and despite the heaviness pressing on her chest, she smiled.
Sue Stoner hadn’t changed much over the years—maybe a few more laugh lines, but not a single strand of gray. Before she became pregnant with Beth, she’d danced professionally, a career that had shaped more than just her posture. She still moved with that same quiet authority, like someone who could command a stage with a glance.
With her long black hair parted down the center and hanging straight past her waist, she bore an almost uncanny resemblance to Cher. At six feet tall, she carried herself with both the strength and grace ballerinas admired—shoulders back, chin lifted, every movement fluid. Even now, she looked like she could step into a spotlight and take a bow without missing a beat.
“Hey, Mama. I was just about to come in.”
Sue stepped aside, letting her daughter pass through the front door after a quick hug.
“Where’s Daddy?”
“Nice to see you too, darling,” Sue teased, following her daughter into the kitchen. “No ‘how was your day, Mom?’ or ‘did you enjoy dinner?’ Just straight to ‘Where’s Daddy?’”
Beth grinned. “Hi Mom. How was your day? Did you enjoy dinner with Lynn and her new guy?”
“Busy day. Food was good. Dinner with CaroLynn was... intense. Thank you for asking, even if it was in mockery. Your father’s in the basement.
Sue laughed and handed Beth a mug of fresh coffee. “Go tell your father dessert is in the living room.”
Beth headed downstairs and found her dad at the baby grand, eyes closed, head tilted toward the keys as if hearing something deeper in the music. Donald Stoner lived and breathed melody. A music professor by trade, he could always be found near an instrument.
Beth waited for him to finish his piece before joining him on the bench. “Hi Daddy,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“LizzyBeth,” her father said with characteristic precision, blending the two shortened forms of her name into one. “I did not hear your arrival. How long have you been here?”
“I just got here. Mom says dessert is in the living room.”
“Very good, very good. I admit I was concerned when I saw her bake red velvet cake—I thought I’d forgotten her birthday.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
As they headed to the stairs, he mentioned that one of her cousins was expecting again.
“How many is that now for Jamie, four or five?”
As they walked, Donald said, “To my recollection, that makes five children. According to your mother, their church family expressed what could only be described as exceedingly high spirits over the news.”
“Jamie’s so sweet. And I don’t think I’ve ever heard Russ say a rude word. Good quality in a pastor.”
“Agreed. His sermons are biblically grounded and always challenging.”
They stepped into the living room, where Sue was already seated on the brightly-colored couch. Donald eased down beside her while Beth crossed to one of the familiar leather chairs and sank into it.
Once everyone was settled, Donald looked at her with quiet intent. “However, I suspect your visit this evening is not prompted by familial updates.”
“You’re right,” Beth said, offering a small smile. “But I liked the detour.” Beth took a deep breath and stared at her coffee before meeting their eyes.
“There’s no easy way to say this. Last night, after the final conference session, we went out for food... and ended up at a tequila bar, I mean, it was also a Mexican kitchen, I’m pretty sure it was called Chayo, but anyways it was also a tequila bar.”
Beth paused long enough to take a fortifying drink of her coffee, allowing the strong brew to slide down her throat and build up her courage to continue.
“I let myself be talked into having drinks with them… that’s not entirely true, I mean… it’s not like they pressured me, they just asked if I wanted a drink. And I said no at first, but then, well then, I… I didn’t say no. I kinda said the opposite of no. I’d never had tequila before and… well, when Eric said to help myself if I changed my mind… I did... change my mind. I tried it. It was surprisingly good and then, well, I didn’t feel anything so… I had another. I don’t remember how many I ended up drinking, or how we got back to the hotel. But I’ll never forget waking up this morning...”
