“No. No police.” Van took a deep breath. “I’ll take her home.” She glanced over at the barman, afraid he might be calling the police himself. “Please …”
He nodded. “Go.”
“Let me help you,” Tanner said, his voice so gentle it made Van’s chest ache. “You can’t get her home by yourself.”
“My car’s outside. I’m fine.” She couldn’t look at him. She was so afraid that if she did, she might cry. And she couldn’t. Not when Chrissie Fairfax was watching her with narrow eyes.
She didn’t even want to think about why Chrissie and Tanner were at the bar together. All she knew was that it hurt. Breathing in a ragged breath, she took her mom’s arm. Kim turned as though she was surprised Van was still there.
“Come on, let’s take you home,” Van told her.
“I want an apology first.” Chrissie crossed her arms over the dark stain on her dress. “Then maybe I’ll think about not calling the cops.”
Van’s jaw tightened. “She can hardly talk.”
“She could talk enough to call me a bitch. Twice.” Chrissie shook her pretty head. “She did this on purpose. She hates me and my family.” She looked at Tann
er again. “You heard her.”
Van squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Mom,” she said, her voice low, “say you’re sorry and we’ll get out of here.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “Sorry.”
“You too,” Chrissie said, looking straight at Van. “You’re as bad as her. You hit me once when it wasn’t my fault. You apologize, too.”
“Let them go,” Tanner said firmly. “That’s history.”
“Tell that to my teeth. They never recovered.”
“I’m not going to apologize to you,” Van said quietly. “You hurt me.”
“Then I’ll call the police.” Chrissie lifted her phone up. “Let them sort this out.”
Tanner caught Van’s eye, shaking his head imperceptibly. Then his lips curled into a slow, easy smile as he turned back to Chrissie. “Why don’t you go back to the table?” he said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I’ll get another round. Don’t let this ruin your evening.”
Van wasn’t sure what she hated more. The way he’d looked at her with pity, or the way he was looking at Chrissie right now. All she knew was that she had to get out of here. Before the dam that was holding her tears back was breached, and she started sobbing like a baby.
Chrissie sighed. “Okay, but keep her away from me. She’s crazy.”
Van slid her arm around her mom’s back and slowly turned her so they were both facing the door. “Come on, let’s go.”
She didn’t look back. Not when she was crossing the bar with her mom leaning heavily on her, and not when it took her three tries to push the door open before the warm evening air washed over them both.
It wasn’t until she’d managed to sit her mom in the passenger seat and climbed into the driver’s side and buckled them both in that she let the tears finally spill over.
They rolled down her cheeks as she steered the car toward their little bungalow a few streets down. As she parked, she wiped them away with the back of her hand, determined not to let Zoe see her crying.
Her mom hadn’t said a word for the short journey. Kim’s head was tipped back, her eyes closed, and she let out a little snore.
She was asleep, and maybe that was for the best. Van would get her to bed, make some popcorn, and hope Zoe would never feel the humiliation that Van just did.
Right now, that was the best she could do.
“Can you believe that?” Chrissie asked when Tanner brought over a new tray of drinks. “This is my favorite dress.” He passed her a cocktail and she took a large mouthful. “That family needs an intervention. Now both of them have assaulted me.”
Tanner said nothing, passing the drinks around. He hadn’t bothered buying himself one. He wasn’t planning on staying.
“They always were low key trash,” Natalie said, shaking her dark, shiny bob. “Remember the time Savannah stole my lunch?”