Stella glanced around the room, not even trying to hide her assessment of the shop. Her gaze would hesitate on some item, then she’d frown. She repeated the cycle a few times before walking over to us.
So, she hadn’t changed. Still quietly disapproving. I hadn’t missed that trait at all.
She took her role of big-time therapist very seriously. Always rushing around, in demand, sometimes on television news programs spouting opinions. She’d been anointed an “alienated child” expert. The title struck me as a bit over-the-top, which fit with the rest of her personality.
I looked up the description after reading it the first time. Apparently, she specialized in doing assessments in contested child custody cases where one party, at some point in the divorce proceedings, blamed the other for bad-mouthing and making the kid hate them.
That sounded like a nightmare career. Give me pastries any day.
“I’m here,” Stella said on a heavy sigh.
“Excellent.” I didn’t mean that at all.
“And?” Stella being Stella, she made her presence sound like something we should all be grateful for and celebrate.
For a therapist the woman had an astounding lack of self-awareness.
When no one responded or explained their nonsense, I jumped in. “I don’t understand the question.”
Stella talked over me. “We should have waited for Aubrey’s first move before meeting.”
I basically said the same words a minute ago, but something about Stella with her perfect clothes, all monochrome and stylish, and her blunt blond bob brought out my competitive side. The challenge likely stemmed from being almost eight years younger and having met her when we were not on equal footing.
She’d been finishing her impressive degree and talking about studying for her licensing exam. I’d been working part-time for anyone who would pay me, including Patrick, and changing diapers. Barely holding it together as the vision I had for my life careened into a wall.
“I think rising from the dead was Aubrey’s first move.” Seemed obvious to me but I said it anyway.
Stella frowned. She was a very proficient frowner. “That’s not funny.”
I snorted because it felt appropriate under the circumstances. “No kidding.”
“What do you hope to accomplish here? Or are you just winging it?” Stella eyed one of the empty barstools but didn’t sit down. She stayed on her feet. Hovering.
So annoying. “Maybe we could park the attitude and all your bullshit for a few minutes. It’s been years. We can interact in a more adult way now.”
Marni picked up her bag and put it on her lap. After a few seconds, she placed it back on the counter. She acted like a jittery bundle of nerves and did nothing to hide her discomfort. She appeared to perform a mental countdown before her shoulders slumped. “Aubrey’s appearance doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
Stella’s eyes bulged. “How do you figure that?”
“It’s good she’s alive,” Marni shot back.
The eye bulging thing didn’t stop. “You can’t be serious.”
I was with Stella on this one.Yayto being alive and all that, but I didn’t exactly cheer Aubrey’s return to Sleepy Hollow.Be alive in another state.
Tension strangled the room. The pressure closed in and ramped up inside me. The headache that had been lingering on the edge all day exploded into full-blown pain.
“Okay, let’s try this.” I slid off the stool because standing made me feel more in control. “We could be honest with each other. Share what we know. What we remember.”
Me and that knife. The blood on Marni’s hands. Running into Stella in the driveway. Each piece of the puzzle flipped through my mind.
“Is that why you texted Marni?” Stella asked me. “You thought we’d come here and unburden ourselves?”
Wait... what?“I didn’t text.” I looked at Marni. “You texted me.”
Marni shook her head. “When?”
Oh, shit.This couldn’t be good. “So, neither of you called this meeting?”
