Page 72 of Happily Ever After

He frowned. “Definitely not random. In fact, it sounds absolutely deliberate.”

Cece swallowed. “Yep. She’s done this too many times.”

Joe straightened. “Which means it has nothing to do with fairness.”

“No,” Cece agreed. “It’s about control. And her perverse need for it.”

Their food arrived then, plates set down gently between them. The smell of waffles and bacon filled the booth, warm and comforting, the exact opposite of what Cece had just read.

Cece set her phone down. “It almost makes it worse,” she said. “But I guess it’s better to know.”

Joe reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “It is. Knowledge is a much better form of power.”

She looked up at him. “Even if it doesn’t stop her?”

“Maybe it will,” he said. “Especially if it changes how you respond. You have context now. And that could help you build a plan of attack.”

Cece nodded, her appetite returning in cautious increments. She picked up her fork and took a bite of waffle, the sweetness giving her mood a little boost.

She glanced at her phone once more, then slipped it back into her bag.

Maude had done more than her fair share. Now it was up to the Queen Bees to decide what came next.

A thought came to Cece. She held up a finger. “Give me just a sec.”

She had a text to send.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Essie woke before Sophie did.

That wasn’t a surprise. Essie had always been an early riser, long before retirement had softened the edges of her days.

She stayed in bed for a few minutes, listening to the house, thinking about Sophie, and about Frank, the familiar ache in her chest from missing him very much present. Maple let out a sigh from her bed on the floor and Essie knew it was time to get up.

She slipped out from under the covers quietly, made the bed, pulled on her robe, and headed for the kitchen.

The guest room door was closed. She went into the living room and checked the couch. It was empty. Next, Essie went to the windows and looked out at the driveway. Sophie’s car was still there.

After all that fussing about how she couldn’t stay, she’d stayed.

Exactly like Essie had thought she would. Essie liked to think she had a pretty high tolerance for drama. Being a middle school principal pretty much required that. But this business with Sophie was wearing her out.

She needed coffee and a long walk with Maple to clear her head.

She got a pot of coffee going then went to change into her walking clothes. She ought to do a load of laundry today, too. As the pot finished brewing, she leaned against the counter and stared out the window, watching the light change.

Suddenly, she knew what she was going to do today.

The decision had come to her just now, but it hadn’t arrived irrationally or out of anger. The smell of coffee had given her some clarity.

Things couldn’t continue the way they had been.

She was done with the attitude, the constant pity party, and the moods. It was bad enough that her beloved book club was being threatened. She wasn’t going to live with a woman half her age playing emotional games.

Essie loved Sophie. That wasn’t in question. It was one thing to be long-suffering; it was another to be disrespected in her own home, which was what Sophie continued to do.

Loving someone didn’t mean avoiding hard conversations. In fact, Essie had learned, sometimes painfully, that it meant just the opposite.