"Yeah," I grumbled. "And the Wallace brothers were there. They sell hay to him, so they're in his pocket."
"Uh huh," she said, nodding slowly but her eyes never left the road. "Why does that man want you out of here so badly?"
"Because I'm cutting Violet's hay. Without that, she will lose her ag exemption, which means taxes go through the roof. Hundred grand a year, I'd guess, instead of whatever she's paying now. And he knows something about her mom and dad."
"Shit," Cessily breathed.
"I don't know what," I assured her.
"I do," she said. "Luke, Violet's mother abandoned her. The woman tried to kill herself afterwards. She's currently in a mental hospital, and she's not ok. Violet's father? He's in jail. The man robbed a liquor store. Talk about a walking cliche."
"Why's that a big deal?" I asked. "The first day I met Violet, Mr. Simmons acted like it was a threat."
"Because her mother's kind of crazy runs in family lines," Cessily said. "Violet's got a history of issues. Cutting, anorexia, and depression. She's doing good, and she takes care of herself now, but Paul knows about both Violet's past and her mother. He knows an ambulance came to pick up Violet, and he tried to say it was proof that Vera couldn't even take care of her own granddaughter. Luke, it's 'proof' that Violet's crazy, and crazy people aren't safe for kids. Southwind is about the kids."
"But she's not crazy," I insisted.
"No, she's not," Cess agreed. "She's never had one sign of the same mental illness her mother has, but around here, people don't care about those things. They don't stop to worry aboutwhyViolet had so much trouble. They just saw that she wasn't the pretty little cheerleader and hated her for it. They put her in a lane and expected her to stay there, but Violet Dawson doesn't play by the same rules as the rest of the world."
"None of you do," I pointed out.
"Us," Cessily said, looking over to smile at me. "You're one of us, Luke, and you're not playing by the rules either."
I kept thinking about that the rest of the way to Bonham. Eventually, we pulled into the parking lot for Russell Fry's office, my ex's attorney. The two of us got out, carrying our coffees with us, and headed inside. Just like last time, the receptionist checked my name and then guided the pair of us into the exact same room.
This time, Meredith was sitting there alone. "Oh, you learned how to be early?" she asked.
"I drove," Cessily told her.
"You sleeping with your attorney now, Luke?" Meredith asked, the taunt clear in her voice.
Cessily just chuckled. "No, he's not. Luke's girlfriend is a very close friend of mine. I've known Violet since she was Faith's age."
Meredith huffed at how easily that attack had been shut down, but before she could open her mouth again, Russell Fry stepped in. He looked at the pair of us, then over to Meredith, and simply headed to the drink counter.
"Can I get you a coffee again, Cessily?" he asked.
"We're good," she promised. "Thank you, Russell." And she held up her own cup as an explanation.
"Well, let's get down to it, shall we?" Russell asked, moving to take the chair across from me.
Cessily sat across from Meredith, and I was pretty sure my attorney had done that on purpose. I also didn't mind at all. It was that much extra distance between us, and my ex looked like she was ready to have a meltdown. Her usually wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her makeup consisted of mascara and little else. The most telling thing, however, was that she wore just a white shirt and black slacks. Not one of her usual cute dresses.
Personally, I still thought Meredith was beautiful, but for her, this was frazzled. That woman loved her black eyeliner and fully painted face. Not the same way Violet did, though. For Meredith, it seemed to be more that she was trying to hide any signs of aging, not simply enhancing the beauty she already had. Her clothes were her way of proving herself, and it usually felt like she was trying to rub something in someone's face.
From a boy's perspective, she'd been impressive. The hot girl that all the guys wanted. As a man, she just seemed shallow and selfish to me. I would've felt bad for her in any other situation, but not after what we'd been through lately. Not after the way she'd torn Faith down to make her own life easier.
"As you already know," Russell said, "Brody Jackson was arrested by the FBI on Saturday. This completely changes Meredith's situation, and we'd like to request a delay in the hearing date to restructure her arguments."
Cessily nodded. "We'd assumed as much. How long of a delay were you thinking, Russell?"
"Well, it'll probably be the end of September at the earliest, but that should be enough time. A month, say?" He smiled at her like they were old friends.
Cessily didn't return it. Me? I'd been expecting two more weeks at the worst. A month? Fuck, this was going to suck. Still, she'd warned me, so I wasn't about to complain. We'd find a way to make this work.
"I think the end of the month should be fine," Cessily told Russell, her voice bland.
But Russell's eyes narrowed. "Is there something we should know about?"
