Aurora got up slowly and stood by Winona. “I’m sorry, Vivi. If there’s a chance we were wrong—”
Vivi Ann ran out of the room, out into the yard. Rain slashed at her face and mingled with her tears. She ran until she was out of breath, and then collapsed onto the wet grass.
She heard Winona coming up the hill toward her. Even in the symphony of the rain, the drops hitting the fence posts and leaves and the grass, her sister’s heavy breathing stood out.
Winona sat down beside her.
Vivi Ann didn’t move. All she could think about was how much she wanted to believe in all this again, and how much her sister’s support would have meant to her twelve years ago. For a moment, she hated Winona, but then even that emotion faded. Slowly, she sat up. “It will fail, you know. You’ll get all our hopes up, and drag us through the mud again, and in the end Dallas will stay where he is and Noah will know how empty life can feel.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “So just stop, okay?”
“I can’t do that.”
Vivi Ann had known that would be the answer, but still it hurt. “So why tell me? What do you want from me?”
“Your blessing.”
Vivi Ann sighed. “Of course you have my blessing.”
“Thanks, and just for the record, I—”
Vivi Ann got to her feet and walked away. In the cottage, she closed the door behind her, went to the kitchen and downed three straight shots of cheap tequila, then laid down on top of her bed, heedless of the dampness of her clothes or the fact that she still wore her dirty boots.
“Mom?”
She hadn’t even heard Noah come into the house, but he was here now, beside her bed.
“How can you not be happy?” he asked.
She knew she should say something to him, prepare him for the devastation that came in the wake of false hope. That was what a good mother would do.
But she had nothing inside of her right now, no spine, no spirit, no heart.
She rolled onto her side and tucked her knees up into her chest, staring at the stark, soft white mound of her pillow, feeling the unsteady beat of her heart, and remembering all of it. Most of all she remembered signing the divorce papers. Leaving him there alone, with no one to believe in him. For years she’d been telling herself it had been the right thing to do, the only way to survive, but now the excuse rang hollow. In the end, she’d given up on him. Left him all alone because it was too hard for her to stay.
When she heard Noah back up and walk away, and close the door behind him, leaving her alone with her memories, she didn’t even care.
Winona walked back into the farmhouse, leaving a trail of rainwater behind her. She stood there, alone, watching her sister do the dishes in the kitchen. Dad was in his study, with the door closed, of course; the Grey family signal for I’m-pissed-off-and-drinking-my-way-through-it.
Behind her, the door banged open and Noah came running back into the house.
“You so totally rock, Aunt Win.” He ran for her, threw his arms around her, hugging her as if it were already over and he’d gotten his life’s wish.
Noah drew back and immediately frowned. “What is it?”
Winona didn’t know what to say. The magnitude of what she’d done uncoiled, swelled. She prayed she was doing the right thing for the right reason.
“I need to talk to my sister, Noah,” Aurora said, coming into the living room. She was drying her hands on a pink towel.
“But I have a ton of questions,” he said stubbornly, “and my mom is just lying in bed. Big surprise.”
“Cut her some slack. Now go.”
Noah made a great show of dramatic disappointment—including slamming the door behind him—and left the house.
Winona glanced at the closed study door. “Did Dad say anything?”
“A rusted pipe makes more noise than he does. He’s a mean, pitiful old man and I don’t give a shit what he thinks. More’s the pity that you do.” Aurora moved forward. “Here’s what I need to know, Win. Is this for real?”
“What do you mean?”