“That’s a polite way to size it up.” Sarah had found the fire and she wanted to stoke the blaze. She could educate the lady in the ways of small-town America. The smaller the town, the smaller the minds.
“The kids are no different. They run in cliques. You’re either in or you’re not.” Lynda shook her head in something like disgust, then took a long swallow of her wine. “And if you’re not, you’re left out.”
There it was. The jealousy Sarah had expected. Honest human emotion from someone with the cojones to say it out loud.
“Jerri Lynn has never been accepted here.” Lynda stared at the glass in her hand. “I was so disappointed when she didn’t elect to go away to college. A change of venue would have done wonders for her.”
“Moving on to a new place with new faces can certainly do wonders for self-esteem.” Sarah had firsthand experience on the subject.
“That’s exactly my point,” Lynda agreed adamantly. “That’s what I tried to tell her father. She needs real friends. Tagging along after a group that is never going to invite you in or settling for less than what you deserve is self-defeating.”
Sounded as if Mommy wasn’t happy with her daughter’s choices in associates. But then, what mother of a teenager was?
Pope reentered the room, his tardy offspring at his side. “Sarah, this is Jerri Lynn.”
Sarah set her glass aside and stood. “It’s a pleasure, Jerri Lynn.” She offered her hand.
Jerri Lynn shook Sarah’s hand and managed a smile, but it was less than enthusiastic. Like her mother, she had the infinitely dark hair, but the eyes were more blue, like her father’s, than green.
“Our MIA daughter got caught up in a grief session at the high school auditorium with her friends.”
“It was too sad,” Jerri Lynn said, her expression downtrodden. “Alicia’s brothers were there.” She leaned into her dad. “It was just awful.”
“Are you all right?” Lynda asked, the frustration in her expression softening to concern.
“I suppose.” Jerri Lynn shrugged. “It was just awful, that’s all.”
Pope ushered his daughter to the sofa next to her mother. Sarah resumed her seat.
“As difficult as it was, showing your support was the right thing to do,” her father assured her.
Jerri Lynn abruptly turned to Sarah. “Is it true they were stabbed through the heart?”
Her parents both jumped to scold her for asking such a thing.
Sarah saw no reason to pretend she didn’t know the answer. “I believe that’s correct.” The news had reported that detail. The kids at school were likely talking about it.
“That would be a gross way to die,” the girl said with a shudder.
“I can’t imagine any parent recovering from losing a child,” Pope offered.
Lynda shivered visibly. “I can’t imagine what kind of nightmare this must be for those families.”
“Is it true your mother killed your father, Ms. Newton?” The question caught Sarah so off guard it took her a moment to realize Jerri Lynn had actually posed it aloud.
“Jerri Lynn,” Lynda chastised. “Why would you ask something so personal?”
Pope didn’t reprimand his daughter this time. Instead, he appeared equally interested.
“It’s true,” Sarah confessed. She couldn’t expect people to open up to her if she didn’t do the same, but she set the pace and boundaries. It wasn’t like Pope didn’t have a dossier with all the dirty details. “My mother killed my father as well as seven other people.”
“Why?” Jerri Lynn asked in spite of her mother’s obvious mortification.
“Because my father was unfaithful. Over and over again. When she’d had enough, she got even.”
“Wow.” Jerri Lynn scooted to the edge of her seat. “Did you see the bodies?”
“That’s quite enough,” her father cautioned. “Don’t be so forward.”
