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I had a feeling that Roman wasn’t going to call today after all.
“So I was thinking,” I said, balancing my cell between my shoulder and ear while filling the coffeepot. It was a double-caffeinated kind of morning. “I could fly in on the sixteenth, then spend a couple days with you and Dad.”
“I don’t know,” my mother said. “The airport is quite a ways away, and your father doesn’t like the drive.”
The airport was an hour’s drive, but like every year I went home for Lauren’s anniversary, I didn’t think the drive was the reason that my parents weren’t thrilled to see me.
“Shit,” I whispered when I spilled coffee grounds all over the front of me. Now I’d need to change before work, and at this rate, if I didn’t hustle, I’d miss my bus.
“I can rent a car and drive myself from the airport to your place. I’d like to be there, Mom. Go to her grave with you guys.”
“I just don’t know,” she said. “I thought you were working anyway.”
“I am, but I can take a long weekend. I’ve already cleared it with my boss.”
It was the one thing that wasn’t on the schedule Roman had handed Marcy, because Roman didn’t know about my travel plans. Not that it was a “need to know” thing. But Marcy had cleared it all the same.
“We don’t really have the room, Amy,” my mother added, all but telling me I wasn’t welcome.
I pressed my lips together to keep the tears from rising and gave up on the coffee. More of it was on me than in the pot.
Channeling any strength I had left, I cleared my throat and said, “That’s okay, Mom. I’ll stay in a hotel. Why don’t I call you when I’m in town? Because I will be there.”
I heard her exhale long and low and in that moment, I didn’t care that she didn’t want me. Lauren was important to me and I wanted to be there, just like every other year. Maybe it was strange, but the anniversary of her death was when I felt closest to her. It was the only time I could tell her how sorry I was and feel like she could hear me.
“Do what you like,” my mother said. “Bye-bye.”
I listened to the line die and felt like a useless waste of skin, fighting for yet another situation that “wasn’t about me.”
And it hurt like hell.
The knock on the door jolted me out of a light nap. I sat up on the couch, feeling sore and horrible. It was past dinnertime and today had mostly sucked. Work had dragged by, Hazel was at a late class, and Paige still wasn’t home.
Making my way to the door, I adjusted my sweatshirt and sweatpants. Then I opened the door, and about lost my stomach when I saw who stood on my porch.
Warren.
He had one hand on the doorjamb and was eyeing me with such venom, he could easily have passed for part snake.
“What are you doing here?”
“It took me a minute,” he started, leaning in and making me really uncomfortable. “But after I saw you today, everything clicked.”
I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but I’m not interested.”
“Oh, I think you will be. Because it’s your fault the governor is flipping on me.”
“Excuse me?”
Warren straightened to his full height, which, when paired with the glare in his hazy blues, was a little scary.
“Reese was set to support me, back my campaign to run for a house seat. Now all of a sudden, something has changed.” He slid his foot forward just enough to technically be inside my home. “And that change is you.”
I swallowed hard, and tried to back away slowly without looking like I was retreating. Realizing how very alone I was, I did my best not to let my fear affect my expression.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Warren. I didn’t even know you were running until recently.”
“I don’t believe you!” He struck my door with the palm of his hand, and I winced a little at the sudden bang. “I think you’ve been talking shit about me and fucking the governor to get what you want.”
