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“Oh, that’s Petunia,” Sarah says brightly. “I rescued her from the shelter the other day. Wolfe didn’t have a problem with it, and she just needs me, you know? And I need her, too.”
“She’s…” June tips her head to the side. “A cat.”
“Hello, darling.” I crouch next to her and reach out to pet her. Petunia immediately butts my hand with her head and starts purring in cat ecstasy. “She looks a little rough around the edges. Like she’s seen a lot of life. But it’s clear she just wants love.”
“She’s me,” Sarah says quietly and pours the taco meat into a bowl. “And now, she has a safe place to live, also like me.”
“Sarah,” June says and hurries around the counter to loop an arm around our friend’s shoulders. “We’ve got your back.”
“Even Petunia’s?”
“I’m not really a cat person,” June begins but then softens when Petunia ribbons her way between June’s legs before coming back to me. “Okay, yeah, even Petunia.”
“She’s just the sweetest thing,” Sarah says. “She sleeps with me and just wants to cuddle all the time.”
“She’s practically drooling while I pet her,” I agree with a laugh. “She’s cute, Sarah.”
I give the cat one last scratch and then go wash my hands at the kitchen sink so I can eat some of the delicious-smelling tacos. When our plates are loaded up, the three of us settle around the coffee table on the floor of the living room with chips and salsa before us.
“Oh, tequila!” Sarah exclaims and jumps up to retrieve the bottle, shot glasses, and some limes and salt from the kitchen. “I don’t have any margarita mix.”
“Don’t need it,” June says with her mouth full of chips as Sarah pours the first round.
“To being free of a man who didn’t love me,” she says, holding her glass in the air. “And to endless possibilities.”
“Hear, hear,” I agree before licking the salt off my hand. I shoot the alcohol and reach for a wedge of lime. “Oh man, that burns.”
“You two and your training wheels,” June says, shaking her head. She didn’t use the salt or the lime.
“Sarah, can we ask some questions? Now that you’ve been here for a couple of months and the divorce is pretty much final and everything?”
“You guys can always ask questions,” Sarah says. “And I’ll answer if I can.”
“What was it about him that made you just leave?” I ask her. “Just quit your job, uproot from your town and your friends, and follow him.”
“Anthony was charming,” she murmurs. “And in the beginning, he was so nice to me. Attentive and generous and affectionate. He was older and seemed to know just about everything. I was dazzled by him. Completely and totally in love. He charmed me so quickly that I didn’t even look back when we left because I figured I’d be able to come back to see you guys all the time.”
She frowns and stares at the bottle of tequila.
“But?” June asks.
“Listen, it was great in the beginning. And then, over time, he became more controlling and more…intense. He didn’t want me to go to college, he wanted me to take care of the home. He didn’t even want me to have a job because he was wealthy enough that I didn’t need to.”
“But what if you wanted to?” I ask, but she shakes her head.
“I learned over those first couple of years that it wasn’t about what I wanted but had everything to do with what Anthony did. I felt like I couldn’t complain because I was living in a gorgeous house with views of the water, and we traveled all over the world. I carried designer bags and wore expensive shoes. I drove a fancy car. I had everything a girl could want.”
“Except love and friends,” June adds.
“Yeah. I didn’t know it at the time, but Anthony started having affairs shortly after our third anniversary. He’s not a pedophile, but he really likes young women. That eighteen to twenty-one range is his favorite, and I truly believe it’s because young women are easier to manipulate and control.”
“And let’s not forget,” I add as I pour us another round of shots, “your parents were the worst. So, it’s not like you had a stable family life here in Huckleberry Bay to come back to.”
“You’re right about that,” she agrees. “When I found out that my parents moved to Tulsa, I didn’t give even one shit. I hadn’t seen them since way before I left town with Anthony. I did feel guilty about you guys and Scott, but again, I thought I’d be able to come visit. And I totally planned to send money home to Scott to help him out.”
“But Asshole Anthony wouldn’t allow it,” June guesses.
“Not only would he not allow it,” Sarah adds, “but he got irate if I even suggested it. Why didn’t I just appreciate what he gave me? Why wasn’t he good enough for me? He hit me with one hell of a guilt trip, let me tell you.”
