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“Inside,” I said. “Now.”
Matt’s attention, his gaze, his presence ten feet behind me was as tangible as a hand at my back. I didn’t turn around, wasn’t ready to meet those green eyes. I was still too raw and vulnerable, my world still unsure without the guilt I’d carried for so long.
I felt slightly newer, somehow. My skin fragile in the sunlight without the heavy protection of my hair shirt.
Katie scrambled down from the tree, grumbling the whole time, and I followed her into the house.
“This stuff with Matt has to stop,” I said, once we got into the kitchen.
“What stuff?” Katie asked.
“Don’t be cute,” I snapped. “I’ve let you run wild around here for too long. Now, I want you to stop with the water balloons and the attitude.”
“We thought he was our friend and he lied to us, Mom!”
Oh, how to explain to my daughter the many shades of gray. “I know.” I sighed. “But—”
“He made you cry!” Katie yelled. “And now you’re out there like he’s a friend.”
“Maybe he is—”
“No! We don’t need friends, Mom! We just need each other. That’s what you’ve always said. All we need is each other.”
“Katie, honey, it’s not always going to be just us.”
“Why not?” Katie asked. “It’s been you, me and Margot for a long time and we’re doing fine. Why do you want him here, anyway?”
I had no answer. I couldn’t even totally explain it to myself. But I liked him here. The past few hours, working silently side by side with him, had been nice. Good. I wasn’t going to say fun because that would be ridiculous, but they were not not fun.
And God, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to pull that strong body against mine and feel small. Feel cared for. Womanly and precious.
I wanted Matt, with his lies and sins, I wanted him still. More, maybe, now that I knew the truth.
“You like him,” Katie cried as though it was the crime of the century, the murder of innocents.
“I do,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. Or—”
“Well, I don’t like you!” She ran off down the dark hallway, her feet thundering up the stairs.
“She’s just like you” a deep male voice behind me said. A deep male voice I hadn’t heard in far too long.
“Carter!” I cried, whirling to face my big brother. One look at his handsome face, so strong and fierce, like a profile you’d see on an ancient coin, and I was ten years old again.
Tears suddenly burned at my eyes
“It’s been so long,” I breathed, hearing the accusation in my voice.
Carter blinked, the charming smile slid off his face. “I’ve asked you to come visit,” he said. “It’s your choice—”
“This is your home,” I said.
You are supposed to be here, I thought. You are supposed to stay. We were all supposed to stay.
But no one ever stayed. Ever.
Carter’s smile was sad, but his arms opened and I stepped right into them. “I missed you, Savvy.”
MATT
I could feel Katie up in that tree, despite the fact that there were no water balloons falling on my head. I could feel her like a storm coming down from Canada—cold winds and icy rain.
“I know you’re mad at me,” I said, sticking my shovel in the ground and propping my hands on its end.
“You don’t know anything!” Katie yelled, water balloons pelting the ground and exploding at my feet.
“Your mom—”
Katie swung down from the tree like some wild red-headed monkey. “You don’t know anything about my mom!” At her rage I stepped back.
“Okay, okay, hold on.”
“You made her cry!” She swatted at my arms and legs and I attempted to step away but I landed in the trench and fell back, hauling Katie in with me. We both scrambled in the dirt and some of the steam leaked out of Katie.
“I didn’t mean to,” I said, turning to look at the girl. “I never meant to hurt her.” I ducked my head to better see her face. “Or you.”
She sniffed and brushed her nose with her forearm.
“Tell you what,” I said. “Tonight I’ll show you how I beat you at poker.”
She sniffed again and looked at me, her eyes so like her mother’s, damning. “No,” she said. She stood, pinning me to the ground with a whole bunch of eight-year-old anger. “If you don’t want to hurt us, then leave. Right now. It’ll only be worse if you stay.”
She left, running past the cypress into the shadows at the back of the courtyard.
Guilt and loss, terrible things I’d done to people because I was blind, obsessed, these things were built like a brick wall around me. The whole world on the other side. For six months I’d been building this wall, craving this solitude.
I stood and brushed off my pants, glancing toward the house in time to see through one of the windows Savannah hurl herself into a man’s arms.
