It was all coming together.
“What sort of guest?” Hayley practically exploded.
“The type my mother can’t handle on her own.” I was resigned. “I’m being serious. Call the police. Tell them there’s a dangerous individual in my front yard. I’m not sure if there’s a weapon to worry about. Then call Brody.” I swallowed hard. “I think I’m going to need him.”
With that, I whirled back and strode toward the door. Things were about to get weird.
28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Put one foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.
It repeated through my mind like a mantra. It was something I’d said to myself during each and every one of our many moves when I was a kid.
When I was sad about losing the one new friend I’d inevitably managed to make, I said it.
When I was angry that my mother had broken up with yet another boyfriend and I was the one paying, I said it.
When I was resigned to just making it to adulthood so I could finally separate from her, I said it.
Over and over I’d repeated it.Just one foot in front of the other.
Today, those words had a different meaning. My mind was surprisingly clear despite the circumstances. I hoped that meant the situation wouldn’t end in catastrophe.
“Hello,” I said in a soft, friendly voice as I stepped out onto the front porch.
Mom snapped her eyes in my direction, panic and anger warring for supremacy. “I’ve got this,” she hissed. “Go inside.”
Next to her, Blair, the superfan, stood with one hand hidden by a long-sleeved cardigan. It was way too warm for long sleeves, especially of the yarn variety. That meant she was either hiding something in that sleeve, or she wanted my mother to believe she was hiding something. I had no idea which one was true.
“Oh, don’t go inside,” Blair replied darkly, hatred reflected back at me as I locked gazes with her. “You’re the one I’m here to see.”
I’d already figured that out. “I’m not leaving.” I had yet to descend the steps that led to the front yard. It seemed like a better idea to make her come to me. “Would you like some iced tea?” I gestured toward the small bistro table I kept on the porch. It had been included in the sale, and originally I hadn’t thought I’d like it. I’d been wrong about that. Apparently, I’d been wrong about a lot of things, including Blair.
“I’m not here for a social call,” Blair sneered. She hadn’t left my mother’s side, but she seemed interested in my progress as I sat. “What are you doing?”
“It’s hot,” I replied. “Too hot for the sun. You should come up and join me here.”
“And leave your mother? Why would I ever leave such a delightful creature? By the way, I see where you get your penchant for being a whore.”
I didn’t react. That was what she wanted. “My mother has nothing to do with this. She has her own problems.” I forced my attention to my mother. “You should visit Rufus. I bet he’s wondering where you are.”
My mother was many things, including a menace to men. She hadn’t survived this long by being an idiot, though. She knew how to extricate herself from a sticky situation. That didn’t mean she always did the right thing.
“I was thinking you would call Rufus and tell him I’m going to be late,” Mom replied in a saccharine voice that was faker than a Kardashian butt.
I frowned.
She frowned.
I frowned harder.
She didn’t let up.
Ultimately, I sighed and forced myself to focus on Blair. “You should take a seat in the shade. It’s really hot out today.”
Blair was incredulous. “I am not here to hang out with you and drink iced tea.”
