She kissed Jack’s cheek, kissed mine, and then teetered off in the direction of the house, trailing after her sisters.
I could feel that all the color had drained from my face. My limbs felt horribly cold, even though it was warm outside. The way she said it,Sloane and I love him...
I looked at Jack’s face, which was probably as pale as mine.
They knew.
Caroline and Sloane knew that Jack was their biological father. And he knew they knew it, too. It explained all his behavior. How jittery he had been acting, how withdrawn. It wasn’t the wedding he cared about, as I had guessed. It was keeping this big secret from me.
After decades of hiding and scheming, of plotting and planning and worrying. After decades of close calls and sleepless nights, my worst nightmare had come true. My secret was out. And there was nothing I could ever do to bring it back in.
EIGHT
emerson: the starlite starlet
My head was throbbing in time with my thoughts.No, no, no, no, no. Why had I done this? Why? Don’t get me wrong. I could drink. But not the entire martini menu at Sharpie’s. All that sugar. All those carbs.
I didn’t want to open my eyes. They were painful and puffy, and I was quite certain they were as bloodshot as they had ever been. Yuck. But I had to open them eventually. No time like the present. When I did, I realized Caroline was beside me. Sloane must have discovered in the middle of the night that, no, this was not her house anymore and that, yes, it might be a good idea to go home and get into bed with her husband. My sisters had given me a memorable evening, that was for sure. I mean, I didn’t remember any of it, per se, but I remembered we had fun. Our Instagram pictures looked really fun, anyway.
My phone dinged, and Caroline groaned as she cracked one eye open to look at me.
Ready, ready, ready, ready, ready to run,the text said. Mark had taken me to a Dixie Chicks concert our sophomore year of high school, so he must have thought this was funny. Well, I mean, his mom had taken us, that lunatic. We couldn’t drive yet. My heart raced just thinking of Mark’s mother—and not in a good way. If Mark was the prize, she was whatever the opposite was. I couldn’t think of anything now because I was so hungover.
“Why?” Caroline asked. “Why would Tom do this to us?”
“He hates us,” I groaned. “That’s the only explanation.”
“Rise and shine, ladybugs,” I heard a voice bellow through the hallway.
“No, no,” Caroline whispered. “Get up and lock the door before she can get in here.”
“You get up and lock the door,” I said. “I can’t move.”
“No one will be locking any doors,” Mom said, stepping into the bedroom. “I suggest you get showered, because you two are going to work with me today.”
“No, Mom,” I said. “I can’t.” A wave of nausea washed over me, and I was on the verge of actual tears.
“Mom, we have the flu,” Caroline said. “It is very bad, and we can’t be around people.”
“Yeah,” Mom said, “the tequila flu. I was mortified by the way you were acting in front of Jack last night. Just mortified. You will make it up to me by taking inventory.”
“Jack?” I asked. “We saw Jack?”
Caroline whimpered. “Mom, we hate inventory.”
“I hate drunk grown women making fools of themselves, so maybe now we’ll be even.”
I turned my head toward Caroline. “Do you remember seeing Jack and Mom last night?” I whispered.
“I do not,” she said. “I think she’s making it up to test us.”
“Do you think that?” Mom asked. “Really? Does ‘Grack’ ring a bell?”
As hungover and close to death as I felt, I chuckled. “Oh, yeah, ‘Grack.’ That’s funny.”
With that, Mom reared back and shot something into our bed. Caroline picked it up, looking confused, before we both dissolved into hysterics. It was the thong with the veil.
“No, no, Mom,” Caroline said, gasping for breath through her laughter. “You keep that. It’s a gift.”
