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I stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind me, already imagining her sweet body naked and wrapped in sheets, just waiting for me to come back in.
“Mom?” I called, not finding her in the hallway. I wandered along it and down the stairs, snagging a cupcake from the kitchen counter as I went. “Mom?”
“In here.”
I poked my head around the door of Karmichael’s study. “Did you want to talk to me?”
She looked up from the computer and took off her reading glasses. Her mouth pressed into a tight line, and she let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to ask in front of your friends but, Vaughn, what on earth are you going to do with your life?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Rather broad question, don’t you think, Mom?”
She gave me an exasperated look and stood from behind the desk, coming around to perch on the edge of it in front of me. “You know what I mean. I understand you can’t do the same sort of work as your father. We both wanted you to take over the company and follow in his footsteps, but that clearly isn’t going to work out.” She wrung her hands. “All that matters is that you’re happy, of course,” she added in a rush. “That’s all your dad truly ever cared about.”
I eyed her twisting her fingers around in knots. “I miss him.”
She nodded. “I do too.”
I sucked in a deep breath, mulling over my words. “To answer your question, honestly, Mom? I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone with the rest of my life. I need to find what makes me happy, instead of just blindly doing what others expect of me.”
She winced. “I’m sorry if we made you feel like this was the path you had to take. I never meant that you had no say in it.”
I shook my head. “It was Harold more than either of you. He fed me a load of bullshit that I was stupid enough to believe.”
She gave me a weak smile and reached over the desk, picking up a piece of blue paper with writing on it and crumpled it. She tossed it toward the rubbish can.
“What was that?” I asked her.
“Me trying to force you down a path of my choosing. I just spent an hour writing out job options for you, but I realize now that’s what I’ve done your entire life. Trying to control every aspect of your career when those decisions aren’t mine to make. I’m sorry.”
I put the cupcake down on the desk and put an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her in a hug. “Show me the list.”
She leaned back and gazed up at me hopefully. “Really? I do think there’s some very good options on there for you.”
I laughed and walked over to the rubbish. “Like what?”
“Well, you could be a swimming coach or teacher? You’re so good, you could definitely teach others.”
I screwed up my nose. “In that pee-infested pool? Hell no. What else you got?”
I reached into the rubbish bin and picked up the balled-up list.
My eye snagged on the sheet of white cardstock beneath it.
It was eerily familiar.
With a rising sense of dread, I took out the sheet and straightened it.
From the top-right-hand corner, a perfect rectangle was cut.
Exactly the same size as the threatening notes Rebel had received.
The ones pushed through our mail slot, with no postage mark.
Because someone local was the one threatening her.
Mom took the list and smoothed it out. “Okay, so if you don’t want to be a swim teacher, I was thinking you could work at a menswear store? You know a good suit when you see one, right?” She frowned at me when I didn’t answer. “What?”
“What’s this?” I held up the cut-out piece of cardstock.
