AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Last week, Meg had seen Haley in the parking lot with a gangly kid about her own age, but when she’d mentioned it, Haley had been evasive.
She broke off a piece of the cookie. Meg had tried selling those same cookies from the cart, but the chips kept melting. “Go ahead, Mom,” Haley said. “Ask her.”
Birdie’s mouth pinched, and her gold bracelet clinked against the edge of the table. “I heard about the break-in at the church.”
“Yes, it seems everybody has.”
Birdie ripped off the straw wrapper and poked it into her soft drink. “I talked to Shelby a couple of hours ago. It was nice of her to invite you to stay at her house. She didn’t have to, you know.”
Meg kept her response neutral. “I realize that.”
Birdie pushed the straw through the ice. “Since it doesn’t seem as though you’re willing to stay there, Haley thought . . .”
“Mom!” Haley shot her a murderous look.
“Well, pardon meee. I thought you might be more comfortable at the inn. It’s closer to the club than Shelby’s, so you wouldn’t have to drive as far to work, and I’m not booked up right now.” Birdie jabbed at the bottom of the paper cup hard enough to poke a hole through it. “You can stay in the Jasmine Room, my compliments. There’s a kitchenette that you might remember from all the times you cleaned it.”
“Mom!” Color flooded Haley’s pale face. There was a frantic air about her that worried Meg. “Mom wants you to stay. It’s not just me.”
Meg highly doubted that, but it meant a lot that Haley valued their friendship enough to stand up to her mother. She took a piece of the cookie Haley wasn’t eating. “I appreciate the offer, but I already have plans.”
“What plans?” Haley said.
“I’m moving back into the church.”
“Ted will never let you do that,” Birdie said.
“He’s had the locks changed, and I want to be back in my own place.” She didn’t mention the surveillance camera he intended to finish installing today. The fewer people who knew about that, the better.
“Yes, well, we can’t always get what we want,” Birdie said, channeling her inner Mick Jagger. “Are you ever planning to think about somebody other than yourself?”
“Mom! It’s good she’s going back. Why do you have to be so negative?”
“I’m sorry, Haley, but you refuse to acknowledge what a mess Meg has made of everything. Yesterday, at Francesca’s . . . You weren’t there, so you can’t possibly—”
“I’m not deaf. I heard you on the phone with Shelby.”
Apparently the code of silence had a few holes.
Birdie nearly upset her drink as she got up from her chair. “We’re all doing our best to clean up your messes, Meg Koranda, but we can’t do it by ourselves. We could use a little cooperation.” She grabbed her jacket and strode away, her red hair blazing in the sun.
Haley crumbled her cookie inside the wax-paper square. “I think you should go back to the church.”
“You seem to be the only one.” As Haley stared off into the distance, Meg regarded her with concern. “Obviously, I’m not doing a great job dealing with my own problems, but I know something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
“I don’t have anything to talk about. I need to get back to work.” Haley grabbed her mother’s abandoned soda cup along with the macerated cookie and returned to the snack shop.
Meg headed back to the clubhouse to pick up the drink cart. She’d left it near the drinking fountain, and just as she got there, a very familiar, very unwelcome figure came striding around the corner of the clubhouse. Her designer sundress and Louboutin stilettos suggested she hadn’t shown up for a round of golf. Instead, she beat a determined path toward Meg, her stilettos tap-tap-tapping along the asphalt, then going silent as she stepped into the grass.
Meg resisted the urge to hold up her fingers in the sign of the cross, but as Francesca came to a stop in front of her, she couldn’t repress a groan. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”
“Yes, well, I’m not precisely on top of the world about this, either.” A quick flick of her hand pushed the Cavalli sunglasses to the top of her head revealing those luminous green eyes, the lids dusted with bronze, and silky dark mascara embracing her already thick lashes. What little makeup Meg had begun the day with, she’d sweated off hours ago, and while Francesca smelled of Quelques Fleurs, Meg smelled of spilled beer.
She looked down at Ted’s diminutive mother. “Could you at least hand me a gun first so I can kill myself?”
“Don’t be foolish,” Francesca retorted. “If I had a gun, I’d have already used it on you.” She swatted at a fly that had the audacity to buzz too close to her exquisite face. “Our guest cottage is detached from the house. You’ll have it all to yourself.”
“Do I get to call you Mom, too?”
