Her voice was deep and unnaturally raspy—I immediately envisioned thick fingers wrapped around her throat, squeezing and damaging the vocal cords. Horrible. But not worse than what had happened to Daniel. A child.
I tried not to run back to my truck but the urge was almost too strong. “I fixed his Jeep. I can fix your car. Just bring it in. I’m sorry, I have to go.” I yanked open my door.
There was a harsh, hoarse sound that stopped me. I didn’t realize it was laughter until I saw her face. Her eyeliner was cinched tight around her eyes and one eyelid was drooped in a way that prevented it from blinking normally. They narrowed at me.
“Whatever he told you, he’s a liar.”
I didn’t slam my door. I pressed it closed until the latch caught. The woman behind me wasn’t my mom. I didn’t feel the same paralyzing urge to hide when confronted with her. My feelings were much more violent, and I let them heat my words when I turned to her.
“I don’t know you. I don’t even really know your son. But I saw his body and I can see what you’re trying to hide on yours. I don’t think he’s the liar.”
This tiny, frail-looking woman, the kind who made you want to protect her on sight, scanned me from head to toe. She had a smile that was almost as beautiful as my mom’s. “What are you, fifteen? I guess he’ll end up in prison anyway.”
* * *
Her parting words and the soul-sucking heat left me wilted inside and out by the time I pulled in to the church, the same one my parents had been married in. The building itself was one of those older styles, crisp white with a steeple and a bell that rang when services were about to start. It was ringing as I hurried inside and almost ran into a woman with fiery red hair and dimples that matched her son’s.
“Oh, no. Sweetie, you got roasted, didn’t you?”
Sean’s mom, Mrs. Addison, stopped seconds before pulling me into a hug. “Well, I can’t even touch you, can I?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” I said, feeling worse because Mrs. Addison always hugged me like I was her favorite person in the world. She was easily one of mine. My misery increased when I caught myself looking past her for Sean, knowing he had to be nearby.
She clucked her tongue. “What do you have against sunblock?”
“I put it on, I swear, but it must have washed off.”
“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Addison stroked her hand over my hair. I almost asked her to stop. It felt too nice, too much like a mom. A real one. Not the mockery that Daniel had or the pathetic excuse mine was.
She asked about Dad and I told her about the car auction, starting every time someone new came around the corner. Mrs. Addison’s expression softened.
“You want me to find him for you?”
If I could have turned redder I would have, but I didn’t feign ignorance, not with Sean’s mom. “No, that’s okay.”
“So you’re all alone? You can always come stay with us. Sean loves sleeping on the couch.”
Sean hated that couch almost as much as he hated cross-country, but as the youngest Addison, he always had to give up his room when they had company. He’d do it for me, but I could barely sleep in my own house—sharing one with Sean would be a million times worse. Sliding past him in the hallways, catching him fresh from the shower with his hair still damp, getting squished together on a sofa while his brothers crowded in on either side…
No.
On top of that, I didn’t think I could take much more of the attention Mrs. Addison would lavish on me. It couldn’t be good for me, like the way they don’t let dehydrated people chug a ton of water at first or they’d throw up.
“No, I don’t—”
“Rick,” she called over my shoulder. “Jill’s coming home with us for the night. Look.” She turned me around to face her husband. “She’s a roasted orphan until tomorrow.”
Mr. Addison looked down at me. “What do you have against sunblock?”
I opened my mouth to explain then shut it with a sigh. “Really, I’m fine. It’s one more night. But thank you.” I smiled back and forth between the two of them and tried to look like I wasn’t in pain. I showed all my teeth.
“You’re sure?” Mrs. Addison was searching my face, her expression so full of concern and…something else that hit me right in the gut. It was the polar opposite of the expression I’d seen on Daniel’s mom. One my own mom hadn’t worn in a long time.
A little girl darted from behind me and I couldn’t keep from wincing as she brushed my legs. And then I winced again remembering. “I’m supposed to help in the nursery.”
Mrs. Addison shook her head. “No, you’re going home to soak in a nice baking soda bath. I’ll fill in for you. Do you want Rick to drive you? Or…” She looked to her husband and then nodded her head toward the sanctuary. “Rick, go get Sean.”
“No!” They both turned at my outburst. “I don’t need a ride. I will go home though. If you don’t mind the nursery.”
