AllFreeNovel
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I’m a rag doll. I let him manipulate me this way and that.
It’s only when his gaze crashes into mine again that he pauses. Searches.
“You okay?” he asks.
I’m the sand slipping through my fingers.
“I’m perfect.” I paste on a smile and step away, heading for the door. “Should we go over there now? I can’t remember the last time I saw your family.”
He doesn’t respond until we’re back in the front room downstairs. I step into the beam of sunlight streaming through the window.
“It’s been a few years.” His voice is quiet. Maybe it took him that long to remember, or maybe he’s trying to figure me out. “Mom was excited to know you’d be coming over.”
I glance back and smile. “But not your dad?”
He shrugs. “I’m sure he’s happy, too. They loved you like their own daughter. I only talked to Mom, though.”
“Are you two going over now?” Mom calls, coming down the stairs. “It’s almost five-thirty. What time are they expecting us?”
The time escaped us. We arrived an hour ago, plus the drive… Was it only this morning that I woke up in Liam’s bed? That I talked to Whitney’s mom, to Taryn?
I pull out my phone, checking for notifications.
Nothing.
A blank screen.
“We can all head over now,” Liam says.
31
Sky
My chest aches.
All the times Jake has told me about their way of life comes rattling through my brain. How their mother always seemed to be the expert of stretching a meal—especially with two high school boys at her table.
Looking back, it’s amazing Liam and Jake played sports. That they were healthy. Because from the food they could afford, they shouldn’t have been.
And so, my chest aches.
We were right next door the whole time. The entire fucking time the Morrison family was suffering in silence, my parents and I lived like royalty. We had food on our table every day, we had a warm house, I had a car that didn’t break down every month.
Now, there’s a feast in front of us. A roasted chicken, steamed vegetables, rice. A loaf of bread, sliced and waiting next to the butter dish. A giant bowl of salad. Wine.
My mother is on her second glass of wine, and Liam’s dad is nowhere to be found.
“He should be coming any moment,” Laura, Liam’s mom, says.
We’re standing away from the dining room table, and I’m trying not to breathe too deeply. The smell of food has been making my mouth water since we arrived.
Gravel crunches outside, and a second later a hum drifts toward us from the garage. We wait in silence, the four of us, for Alan to walk in. The door from garage to mudroom clicks shut, and a second later he arrives, hurrying toward us.
“So sorry, dear,” he says, kissing his wife’s cheek. “I didn’t mean to hold everything up. I’ll wash my hands, and we can sit.”
He washes his hands, then addresses us. “So lovely to see you, Kathy” he tells my mom. His gaze lands on me. “What on earth have you done to your hair?”
I don’t think he’s mad about it. His eyes are wide, and I can tell he’s trying to absorb everything new and different. I’m not the girl next door from his sons anymore. The strategy of transformation has paid off—although it’s not complete, I think. No more blonde, no more delicate makeup. No more popularity.
