AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shook my head at myself now. I wished I could go back and tell my younger self to relax a little. Emma would love me even if I didn’t make partner before thirty. That all that shit had mattered more to me than her.
I was just about to finish my tour of the old neighborhood and head back home when I saw my mom’s car parked incongruously in our old driveway. It was such a familiar sight that I nearly drove right past, but then the anachronism clicked in my head.
Yes, this red Toyota Camry had spent most of its life with its four wheels parked on this pitted driveway that Renee really needed to replace, but no, it shouldn’t be here now. I pulled in beside it, wondering if there was something wrong in the house. Had Renee asked my mom to hang out and let a plumber in or something?
I knocked a couple of times, but no one answered. Then I heard the sound of quiet laughter. Music was playing in the backyard. I walked the perimeter of the fence until it led me to the gate. Now I could hear the music clearly–they were playing an oldBellessong. I stopped to listen for a second, realizing for the first time that while it didn’t have the slick production quality of what you hear on the radio, it was actually really fucking good.
Then I unlatched the gate, pushed it open, and saw what I thought at first was Renee, Quinn, Mia, and Joanne. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, for my mind to examine the feedback and tell me that no, it wasn’t them. Instead, it was my mom, Mia’s mom, Joanne’s mom, and Quinn’s mom.
Quinn’s mom–Moira, I snatched the name from the recesses of my memory–looked at me with Quinn’s eyes. “Callum Evans, as I live and breathe.”
“Mrs. Collins,” I responded, defaulting to our old patterns. I looked around the scene, bemused and amused in equal parts. I could have walked into a scene right out of my childhood. The same four women sitting in the same green and white-striped lawn chairs. They all held the same paperback book in their hand–something I recognized as being popular even though I couldn’t have said what it was about. Mia and Joanne’s mom each had a light beer. My mom had a Diet Coke, and Mrs. Collins–I made a mental note to tell Quinn about this later–held a vape.
“Hi honey,” my mom said guiltily. “We were just–”
“Don’t explain yourself to the boy,” Joanne’s mom interrupted. She looked at me with Joanne’s direct, almost angry gaze. “Your mom hates Waterford.”
“I don’t hate Waterford,” my mom corrected immediately. “But with Moira in town, I thought it would be fun to revisit our old stomping grounds.”
“These are still our current stomping grounds,” Mia’s mom reminded her.
“You know what I mean.”
There was something beneath the surface of this shallow squabble, but I didn’t know what.
“She’s right, Mom,” I said, hoping to avoid finding out. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Stomp wherever the hell you want.” It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her that she could have brought them to our community country club, but the look on Joanne’s mom’s face made me think twice.
I sat down in the extra space beside Moira. “Does Quinn know you’re in town?”
She blew out something that smelled like grape. “Not yet. I don’t want to stress her out.”
It was true that Quinn’s mom had stressed her out when we were younger. It was why Quinn spent so much time at our house or in the tree house when she was growing up. But there was a different energy to Moira now. For example, the old Moira would never have concerned herself with stressing Quinn out. But before I could tell her she should come over to the house, I noticed sly, sideways glances passing between the four women.
“What?” I asked, straightening up.
Their faces went blank.
“Mom.” I targeted the weak link. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She looked up at the sky, not meeting my eyes. A sure sign thatsomethingwas going on.
Mia’s mom was studiously drinking her beer like someone might quiz her on it later. Moira was inhaling from the vape again. Only Joanne’s mom met my eyes directly, her zero fucks given attitude on full display. She’d tell me what was going on. Notbecause she was the weak link but because she saw no reason not to.
What wasthe boygoing to do about it?
“It’s like this, Callum,” she said, explaining like she was still the only adult in the room and I was a kid asking her how to fix my lawn mower. “Moira’s baby is in trouble.”
It took me a minute to make the connection that Moira’sbabywas Quinn. I winced. “I know. I’m taking care of it.”
Joanne’s mom dipped her head to the side, a shrewd look crossing it. “We know, and we appreciate it. But you’re going to do things the legal way, and we’re going to do things our way. If we need to.”
I looked around for some explanation, but the other three had closed, secretive looks on their faces. My eyebrows shot up so high they nearly came off my forehead. Suddenly the four women didn’t look like a book club so much as a suburban coven. “What does that–no, wait.” I held up my hands, even though there wasn’t a barrage of words to stop. My mom and Mia’s mom were giving her dirty looks. Moira’s face had tightened. “Don’t tell me,” I decided. “I can’t know if you’re doing anything illegal.”
“We’re not,” my mom hurried to assure me.
“But wewould,” Moira said darkly.
“But we haven’t yet,” Joanne’s mom acknowledged, sounding almost regretful.
