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“Be more sober, probably,” Erin said, but she reveled in the bite of the whiskey. Rachel had always had a heavy pour.
“Be less fun, exactly,” Rachel said. She hugged Erin next, while Parker flitted off to Caleb’s side.
Any time Rachel razzed her for being a stick-in-the-mud, Erin considered telling her about Cassie. Not tonight, though. She didn’t want to know what Rachel would think of how Erin had shut things down. Shedefinitelydidn’t want to know how Rachel would’ve suggested dealing with Cassie being under Erin’s roof for two weeks.
The alcohol helped take her mind off that. It helped her get prepared for the games, too, which everyone here took way too seriously. Taboo wasn’t so bad—Erin had minored in English; she knewplenty of synonyms. By the time they got to charades, though, she was glad she had a second drink.
Kids versus Grown-ups. With Parker and the three Turner kids, the adults had an extra player, but Parker started the trash talk early, saying the grown-ups would need the help. Adam’s first turn demonstrated she was absolutely correct, but it didn’t mean she had to say it.
Noah’s turn was next. The youngest Turner was a born performer. After demonstrating the answer was six words of song lyrics, he leapt into motion, galloping around the room like he was at a rodeo, one hand holding an imaginary saddle between his legs, the other twirling an imaginary lasso.
“‘Mustang Sally’!” Mae called out.
Parker snorted. “Yeah, ’cause we’re all nine hundred years old.”
“I’m on your team,” Mae said.
Caleb ignored his younger sister. “Also that’s the title and not the lyric.”
“Ride, Sally, ride!” Mae shouted instead.
Rachel joined in on the heckling. “It’s six words. Do you not understand the rules of the game?”
But Noah had stopped galloping and pointed to Mae before holding up his first finger.
“First word?”
He nodded and pointed again.
“My first word or your first word?”
He nodded faster.
“Ride!”
As the other team kept shouting to figure out the rest of the words, Erin felt guilty. Well, dumb and guilty. The “Mustang Sally” lyrics made her think of Sally Ride, then of astronauts, then of Cassie. Like her brain was looking for any excuse.
On Wednesday, for their entire conversation, Cassie had saidthings that vindicated Erin—she was thinking of her, too, this whole time. Erin said things designed to hurt Cassie. That it was the right decision, that she’d had no choice, didn’t make it any easier.
“Mom, it’s your turn,” Parker said.
Erin looked up. Her daughter waved the bowl at her impatiently.
“I’m going to need another drink first. Let Mr. Turner go. I’ll be right back.”
Rachel and Melissa offered their glasses for refills as well. Erin collected them and headed to the kitchen as Jimmy began acting out the title of a book. Gin and tonic for Melissa, whiskey sodas for Rachel and herself. Alone in the kitchen, Erin thought about the hurt in Cassie’s voice as she had sworn and hung up the phone. She let her pour run almost as heavy as Rachel’s had been.
Erin was a people pleaser. Always had been. Her mother had certain expectations of her. Getting pregnant at twenty had not been one of them. When Erin made the final decision about the divorce, it didn’t matter that her mom had died two years prior—she knew exactly how the disappointment would have looked on her face. Conflict made Erin cringe. She was working in therapy on figuring out what she wanted to do, instead of just going along with those around her.
But it wasn’t conflict that kept Cassie in her head. It was more than Erin’s typical discomfort with saying no to someone. Cassie was under her skin.
That very first night, Erin had almost stopped Cassie—not while anything was happening, but after, while Cassie walked away from the car. They were on her daughter’s college campus, and Erin almost yelled for Cassie to come back, to the car, to her hotel room, to her. She’d fallen asleep that night regretting she hadn’t gotten the woman’s number. For the rest of the weekend or the next time she visited or both.
Cassie was a bad decision Erin wanted to make again and again.
Charades, at least, was a good distraction.
Erin was buzzed enough that she didn’t blush too hard acting out her clues formaking a splash. It helped that she and Rachel seemed to share brain cells, and the other woman gotsplashfrom Erin flapping her arms like a goddamn bird.
