AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I peek at my son in the rearview mirror, amused that he and Ethan discuss Harper. I’m sure they discuss me, too, and I’m sure Ryle says I’m grouchy, too.
“Well, just remember, she’s going to have a cast on her leg. And she won’t be able to get up and move around easily. Okay?”
“Yep.” He’s looking out the window, but Ryle nods when he answers me.
Dani called me last night when I got home to check on Harper. They don’t know each other that well, but Dani does know Truman’s family. Dani doesn’t know the real reason we split up, either. I just can’t bring myself to talk about it, and I’m not sure if it’s because it makes me feel bad or because I’m still trying to protect Truman.
The drive to Harper and Keith’s house takes all of seven minutes. Ryle scrambles out of the car before I even have my door open. I start to call after him again to remind him Harper might be sleeping, but he runs up the circle drive and opens the front door, leaving me behind. I flinch as the door closes behind him, but then again, Ryle’s a good boy. He might get wound up sometimes, but he doesn’t get too loud on a normal day. I can’t imagine he would do something to upset Harper now.
It's summertime in Basset, and it’s sticky. Late morning sun bakes the cobbled driveway and burns the back of my neck as I make my way to the porch. Wondering who’s here, I catch myself before I knock and look over my shoulder, this time paying attention to the cars in the drive rather than the temperature. Lillian’s Cooper is here, but that doesn’t surprise me. Doesn’t bother me, either. Sometimes the way she looks at me makes me feel bad, like I’m cold and unforgiving, but she’s never rude to me.
And I suppose I have been unforgiving.
I take a quick breath and steel myself to see Truman’s mom and sister and then knock on the door. The house is one of those monster mansions in a gated community—complete with its own golf club. Harper’s got the same drive and business acumen that Truman does, but somehow she handles family and work better than Truman, too. She has someone clean her house every other week, but I don’t fault her for that. It frees her up to be with her kids when she’s not working.
“Julie!” Lillian wears a genuine smile when she opens the door to me. “We wondered if you were coming or if Ryle tooled over here on his battery-powered Jeep.”
“Shh!” I laugh and shake my head. “If he hears you, he’ll want to do that next time.”
“C’min.” Lillian reaches for me, but when I do step inside, she drops her hand. I hear Ryle and Ethan’s voices coming from down the hall. They must be in the kitchen. Probably angling for cookies. I hope they’re not bothering Harper.
“How’s Harper?” I keep my voice down in case she’s trying to rest. She could be in the family room, right next to the foyer here, or she could be in the den or the kitchen or even out back. I’m fairly certain she’s not upstairs in the master bedroom, and if she’s anything like me, not being able to sleep in her own bed will only make her grouchier. But unless they’ve installed an elevator that I know nothing about, I doubt Harper can make it to the second floor right now.
“She’s a little doped up,” Lillian says honestly. “But she’s rest—”
“She’s right here!” Harper calls from the family room. “And bored out of her mind.”
Lillian raises her eyebrows at me, and we share another laugh. She leads me into the family room where Harper’s propped on the couch with a couple of pillows. Another pillow is plumped up under a purple cast that covers her right foot, ankle, and calf.
“Hey.” I cringe when I see the bruises and cuts on Harper’s face. “How are you feeling?”
“Not gonna lie,” Harper says with a goofy smile. “At the moment, I feel beat up and black and blue and a little bit high.”
She probably is a little bit high. I laugh softly and put my keys and purse on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“Twain said broken ribs, too?”
“Turns out, no.” She rests her head on the pillows at her back and closes her eyes. “Just very bruised and sore.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Good is relative,” Harper mumbles.
“Ryle wanted to check on you,” I tell her as I perch on a wing back chair that sits at an angle to the sofa. “Although, now it seems like he played me for a play date with Ethan.”
Harper snorts and squints at me through narrowed eyes. “He came in to talk to me for a minute.”
“Yeah?”
“He did,” she promises. “Even gave me a kiss.”
Her promise makes me feel better about the fact that my son is now in her kitchen, probably making a mess with some kind of snack. But now, sitting here with Harper and Lillian I don’t know what to say.
“The other driver broke her wrist,” Harper tells me. Before I can respond, she shows me another goofy, lopsided grin, “I hope that means she can’t text for a while.”
“I assume she got the ticket?”
“She did.”
