“Hey, sweetie,” Willow’s mom said dismissively, then immediately focused on Amber. “Late night?”
Amber grunted. Willow sighed. And I was fucking furious.
Her mom closed the refrigerator and fluffed her hair. It was blonde like Amber’s but erred on the silver side. The notion struck me that I had no idea what Willow’s hair color really was. Her eyebrows were tinted pink to match her hair. More than once, I had watched her dust them with pink pigments to deepen the color when she did her makeup.
“Mom, this is Ryan,” Willow said once again, with a little more edge to her voice this time. It was strange to me that she had no problem speaking up around me or anyone else for that matter. But here . . . She wasn’t herself.
Home should have been the place where her armor fell, and yet she had put more on and was using me as a shield.
Her mom’s gaze finally turned from Amber and lifted to me. “Oh. Right. The . . . fella you’re . . . Well, frankly, I don’t know what to call it. Dating? Not dating?”
The next shock of the day came when Willow bristled at that. Frankly, I thought she’d take the opening to crack a joke about whatever we were. But I felt her body push against mine like she was trying to glean strength from me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winslow,” I said, trying to offer an olive branch.
She scoffed. “Just Cynthia. The only Mrs. Winslow in this town is Lisa and, well—” She flicked her hand dismissively. “I went back to Hart so I could match my girls.”
“Mom,” Willow hissed.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cynthia,” I said politely, then turned to Willow’s sister. “Autumn has told me a lot about you, Amber.”
Amber snorted in a similar sound to her mom. “Right.”
Willow balled her hands into fists as she seethed, but her mother didn’t seem to notice.
“You just about ready to go, Amber?” Cynthia turned back to Willow. “We have appointments at the nail salon. What are you two up to today?” she asked. “I can’t imagine there’s a lot of sightseeing to do around here.”
Willow looked between her mom and sister in disbelief. “We came over to see you guys. That’s why I texted asking if you wanted to get together today. You didn’t tell me you had somewhere to be.”
“Well, I just thought you meant you wanted to pop in, since you were still in town,” Cynthia said.
Willow pinched the bridge of her nose. “Still in town? I told you I was going to stay a while. The funeral hasn’t even happened yet.”
Cynthia grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and stuffed it in her pocket. “Well, I just figured you’d come have yourmoment and then go off to wherever you were going to go next. You know, since you’ve probably got another book to write or something.”
“Mom, we have to go,” Amber said as if she was a whiny five-year-old and not a completely grown thirty-something.
Cynthia looked at the clock. “Can’t be late.” She gave a passing glance to Willow. “I’m sure they could fit you in after us or something if you want to come. They take walk-ins.”
Willow’s lip trembled at the corner. “It’s fine. I have stuff to get done.”
“Okay,” Cynthia said as she shouldered her purse and walked to the door with Amber in tow. “Lock up before you leave.”
And then they were gone.
“Wills, you could have gone with them. I can go back to the rental.”
But she just stared at the spot where her mom and sister had been standing. “I hate getting my nails done. I can’t type with long nails and I don’t like people touching my hands.”
“You hold my hand all the time.”
She blinked back tears and steeled herself without so much as a single drop spilling down her cheek. “I don’t mind with you.”
I took her hand in mine and squeezed. “Show me around.”
“What?”
“I want to see where you grew up. All the embarrassing baby pictures. Don’t lie and tell me there aren’t photo albums.”
