“Right!” Alice leaned heavily on the headboard, the betrayal pressing into her chest and making it hard to breathe. “The thing is, he should have told me.”
Stacy leaned back so their shoulders were touching. “He should have.”
“I thought we were at least friends.”
“The best of friends.”
“So why didn’t he tell me?” She swiped at her cheek to brush away the tears before they landed on her pajamas.
“I don’t know.”
Alice thought back to her pity party in the car yesterday. “I thought my life stank yesterday. I was so wrong. Yesterday was roses and perfume compared to today.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Alice checked the clock. “I’ve got to get over to Mom and Dad’s. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
Stacy made a face and slunk back down under the covers.
Alice shook her head. “I’ll take that as a no.” It was times like this that she really missed her twin. He would have stood by her, would have sucked it up and made the trek over to the other side of town. Baby sisters! “Meet me at church?”
“I’ll be there,” came her muffled response
Stacy headed for the shower, and Alice took the paper back to the kitchen table to finish reading. The rest of the article speculated about a budding romance between Russ and a certain reality television star who had frequently been seen around town.
She took a sip of hot chocolate and grimaced—it had gone cold.
* * *
“Hi, Mom.” Alice placed a light kiss on her mother’s cheek so as not to smudge her powder. The heavy cosmetics used to make her sneeze. Leeanne Westbrook was stunning in her tight black running pants, workout shirt, and zip-up hoodie. Her hair hung almost as long as Alice’s, and she moved with the grace of a gazelle.
“Hello, Alice.” Mom gave her a light squeeze. “How’s school?”
“Good.” Alice took off her jacket and laid it over the arm of the couch. Her one class on digital curation was easy enough to handle. Especially with all her free time lately. “Where’s Dad?” He usually wandered away from his recliner long enough to eat breakfast with them for birthdays.
“He’s otherwise engaged this morning.” Leeanne’s tone was purposefully vague and flippant—a combination Alice knew all too well.
“He’s withher. Isn’t he?” Years of watching her mother rise at dawn and dress impeccably in an effort to show her father what he was stepping out on had taught her to recognize the signs. All those times when Alice was told to be quiet, to not upset her dad, and to smile pretty so Dad would want to stay stirred up hot anger and bitter resentment. They didn’t have to live like that. Her mom didn’t have to come in second in her own marriage. There were other guys out there, ones who would treat her better. “Why don’t you leave him?”
“Don’t be silly. I could never leave your father. Sit down, the food is going to spoil.”
Indignation flared. How dared Dad treat her mother this way? And then the sense of betrayal from her mom swept in. How dared she stay? “Why not?” Alice demanded as she yanked out a chair.
Placing her palm on the table, Leeanne’s eyes bore into Alice. “Ilovehim.”
Alice gripped the table’s edge. “Mom.” She gritted her teeth in an attempt to keep her voice low. “You shouldn’t have to beg him to love you back.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Alice realized her hypocrisy. Wasn’t that exactly what she did with Russ? The bright lipstick, the fancy hairdos, the clothes … Did that mean she loved him? Her heart clenched. She did! She loved him for seeking her advice on his plays, for admiring her literary knowledge, for treating her like she was something special, and for being her best friend. And in her naiveté, she’d subconsciously followed her mother’s destructive pattern.
“Darling, life isn’t like those books you read.”
No. It wasn’t. It was much, much worse, because her mother had written the story line and she’d followed it without thinking.
Alice took in her mother’s calm features and realized she wasn’t going to convince her to go. For whatever reason, maybe a warped sense of loyalty or a perverted desire to punish herself, Leeanne Westbrook would be laid to rest next to her cheating, no-good husband, having fulfilled her end of the wedding vows till death do they part. There would be no Prince Charming to slay the dragon, no Mr. Darcy to pay the debts, and no Colonel Brandon to reclaim her honor and love, because her mother didn’t seek after such a thing. She refused to turn the page to find a new chapter in her life.
“No, life’s not like it is in books,” agreed Alice. Because life—her life—wasn’t written yet.
As they drank orange juice and ate parfaits, Alice vowed to never beg a man to love her. If Russ truly was in love with Gabriella, then she refused to be the other woman. If he wanted to leave Harvest Ranch forever, she wouldn’t plead with him to stay. Even though it would cost her dearly to lose hope for a future with Russ and to say goodbye to her best friend, if she truly wanted to be a heroine in her own story, she had to be willing to turn the page.
