Page 73 of The Scent of Happiness

Brooke grabbed a pair of glasses from the coffee table and pushed them onto her face. “Well?” she asked.

“Well?” Mom echoed.

“What?” Brooke asked. What could you say when your mom barged in on you and your boyfriend having sex? The sex that you weren’t supposed to have with the boyfriend you weren’t supposed to have in the apartment that your parents owned that the rent was late on? There was nothing she could say that could make this less mortifying.

Mom braced her hands on the kitchen doorframe. “I believe this is the part where you’re supposed to say, ‘this isn’t what it looks like.’ You start there and then—”

“You want me to lie?”

“No. Yes. Maybe a little bit?” Mom passed a hand over her forehead and Brooke caught a whisper of her nervous sweat. “What mother wants her child to lie to her? But what mother wants—”

“Would you stop? Please? None of this would have happened if you’d respected my privacy. Boundaries, Mother.”

“Boundaries? Don’t talk to me about boundaries. You and your lawyer aren’t supposed—”

“Brooke?” Theo called from the driveway.

“Not now,” Brooke called back.

“Brooke, you’ve got to come out here.”

“Not now,” she said, louder. She wasn’t going to be at his beck and call. If Theo was going to disappear at the first whiff of trouble, why should she respond to him at all?

“Sharon?” Theo tried. “You need to see this. Quick.”

“What do you want?” Brooke strode past mom and to the door, sliding into a pair of flip-flops in the entryway. Mom tried to go out the door at the same time and they got caught in a tangle of feet and elbows before Brooke broke through and onto the stoop.

She expected to see some dumb distraction Theo had come up with. Or who knew? Maybe the cops were back for another go. Because that was all this day needed.

What she did not expect to see was the light on in the garage, the door hanging wide open, and Theo standing silhouetted in the frame, guarding a bent and gasping Dixie Dawson.

“What the hell?” Brooke stumbled on the top step as she and Mom both tried to go down at once. Brooke got to the garage door first.

“I caught her,” Theo crowed. “I caught her red-handed.”

Mom stood behind them, trying to see over Theo’s shoulder. “She broke into our garage? Dixie, whatever possessed you?”

“She did more than break in,” Theo said, pointing.

Brooke craned her neck to look. The shelf next to the door was on its side, and her newest soaps—Unicorn Party and Rebel Boss—were scattered on the floor. Some of the bars were broken, others were dented at the corners.

A bolt of furious energy burned through Brooke, drying her throat and making her fingers clench into claws. A pounding sensation flared in her ears, the sound of her own heartbeat as time slowed for a moment. In a split second she counted every bar, saw every crack, and added up the cost of the ingredients.

She tried to shove Theo out of the door frame. “Out of my way,” she snapped. “I’m going to—”

“No, you’re not. No, you’re not.” Theo caught her around the waist and pulled her back. “No, Brooke. Shh. Calm down.”

Unacceptable. How dare he stop her now? She was anger incarnate and she was on a righteous mission to make Dixie pay for what she’d done. Brooke struggled, trying to twist out of Theo’s grip, but she was no match for his strength. “Let me go!” she howled. “I’m going to slap the ever-living shit out of her, and then I’m going to pick up every bar of soap she ruined and make her eat them.”

“That’s precisely not what you’re going to do.” Theo’s voice was maddeningly calm. “Brooke, listen to me. Listen.”

Brooke flailed and hit Theo’s arms with her fists, but it was about as effective as smacking a cement block. She sniffed. Was her nose running? She blinked away tears. Dammit, she wasn’t sad or weak, she was pissed. She couldn’t decide who she was more angry at—Dixie for ruining her soaps or Theo for holding her back. “Why?” she screamed at Dixie? “Why? Answer me.”

“Don’t,” Theo said in her ear. “We don’t need to hear anything she has to say.”

But Dixie looked like she couldn’t answer, even if she wanted to. Her eyes were bugged out and she took shallow breaths as if she was desperate for air. She was dressed in all black, making her look frighteningly pale. Her lips were colorless and freckles stood out on her cheeks like poppy seeds on an underdone bagel.

Mom clutched Theo’s shoulder. “What did you do to her?”