How would I even begin to explain what had happened with Jesse? I didn’t even know myself. It was all a blur—he was so sweet and good looking that I lost my head!
Her grip on my shoulder softened. “You’ve been married for how many years? You wouldn’t throw that away for nothing.”
He threw it away first,I thought.
A tear trickled down my cheek.
She whispered, “Is there something I should know?”
I nodded. “Yes. But I can’t tell you right now.” My words were broken by heaving breaths. “After—the girls go to sleep.”
“Okay.” Jackie released my shoulder. “We’ll talk. And don’t even think about trying to get out of it.”
I nodded, swiping my cheeks. “I won’t.”
“I texted Mom and told her you were here. They’re coming down in a minute.”
I lifted the collar of my shirt to the bottom of my eyes.
She smacked my hand down. “Don’t do that. You’re smearing your mascara.” She grabbed my arm and jerked me into the cabin. I stumbled behind her, wincing as my ankle resisted the stretching. I followed her into a bathroom where the girls were already naked and splashing in the garden tub.
Nora squealed, “Mommy! Aunt Jackie is letting us use her body wash!”
“Mmm. It smells so good.” My voice shook.
“It’s cupcake flavored.” Nora said.
“Scented.” Izzy had to correct.
Jackie rummaged through her make-up bag and pulled out a q-tip, rolling it over the edge of her tongue. Then she poked my lower eyelashes and dragged the cotton beneath my eye. “There. Now you won’t look like a racoon. No crying. You can cry later.”
Nora’s voice fell. “Oh no. Mommy was crying?”
Jackie grimaced. “Oh,” she sang, “you know…she is justsohappy for your Aunt Bea getting married tomorrow that she got emotional.”
Nora smiled. “A happy cry?”
“That’s it.” Jackie lied. “A happy cry.” She turned to fix my hair and mouthedsorry.Ten seconds later, a chorus of voices invaded the front of the cabin, and my dreaded family reunion was officially underway.
TEN
Hollie
Seventeen years old
I’ll never forget the night silvery-blue headlights washed over my bedroom window. It was close to 2 a.m. Mom probably thought I was sleeping, but I’d been awake, studying on my laptop for an exam I was determined to ace. When I heard a deep voice on our stoop, I rolled off my mattress and stuck my thumb and index finger into the blinds, pulling them apart.
The flood lights were off.
Standing on the shadowy porch was my mother—arm in arm with a man who was not my father.
Dad was driving, of course. He was always driving. With six kids in the family, he was practically chained to his semi. The miles he drove week after week to fund us was nothing short of astounding—thousands. Sometimes I’d call him and he’d be in Vermont. Oregon. Or Florida.
Always too far away.
Peering through those blinds, something in me shattered. Iblinked over and over, sure I was seeing wrong. Sure I’d fallen asleep at my computer and this was a dream. Maybe that was the first time I stopped trusting myself.
As my brain tried to rationalize, my heart drummed a war beat in my chest. Good, sweet Lynnette Thompson wasn’t capable of cheating. She couldn’t be. But watching his hands grope her ass, my stomach turned. My breath fell ragged and my hands began to tremble. The blinds clinked against the window pane, and my mom suddenly pushed him away.
