“She was eight years old and hungry,” Tanner said tightly. He glanced at Nate, who hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived back at the table. Maybe there was nothing to say. This whole evening had been a mistake. His stomach was churning like crazy. He wanted to get out of this poisonous atmosphere and breathe again.
“Yeah, well she wasn’t eight when she hit Chrissie. Like mother, like daughter.” Natalie smiled smugly. “I have no idea why she’s back in town. She should have stayed away.”
“And taken her mom with her.” Chrissie laughed. “You were right, though, Tanner. We should forget about it. Sit down, let’s talk about something good instead.” She patted the cushioned stool beside her.
“I’m going to head home. It’s been a long day.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “I’ll catch you all later.”
“But what about your drink?” Chrissie’s smile dissolved.
“I didn’t buy one for me.”
Her brows knitted together. “Why not?”
Because all he wanted to do was see Van. “I’m not thirsty,” he said, giving them a tight smile.
“Is it because of her?” Chrissie’s nose wrinkled. “I know you were friends at school, but I thought you’d grown out of that.”
His jaw tightened. “I haven’t grown out of anything. She’s always been a friend. And now we’re working together.” He hadn’t meant it to slip out, but Chrissie and her friends were so damn smug. He wanted to shake them up and let them see reality. “She’s the best person I know.”
Chrissie’s mouth opened and closed, as though she couldn’t think of how to respond. “Well…,” she said finally. “I guess you see her differently.”
“I guess I do. Good night, everybody.” He didn’t wait for them to reply. Grabbing his wallet and phone, he stuffed them into his pockets and walked with long strides out of the bar.
It had been a mistake to come here. He was a fool to think this town had changed. Everybody still saw Van the way they always did, making her pay for her mom’s mistakes.
Yeah, well this town could go fuck itself. He was sick and tired of the injustice of it all.
Leaving her mom in the car for a moment, Van ran to the front door, unlocking it and pushing it open. “Zoe?” she said softly. “Everything okay?”
For a moment, when she didn’t reply, Van felt her heart hammer against her ribcage. But then she stepped into the hallway and looked through the door at the end and saw her sister curled up on the sofa, her chest rising and falling as she slept.
Thankful for small mercies, Van half-carried their mom to bed, taking her high-heeled shoes off before pulling the blanket over her, not bothering to change her clothes.
Kim could do that herself in the morning.
Then she walked back into the living room and gently shook Zoe. “Hey, sweets. You okay?” she asked, when Zoe blinked her eyes open.
“What time is it?” Zoe asked, stretching her arms. “Is Mom home?”
“She’s fine. She’s asleep in her room.” Van checked her watch. “It’s almost nine-thirty. You want to take a raincheck on the movie? Maybe we should both make it an early night.”
“I’m not that tired.” Zoe yawned, and Van bit down a smile.
“I know, but I am,” Van lied. “Let’s watch a movie tomorrow night instead.”
“Maybe Mom can watch it, too.” Zoe’s eyes lit up. Van’s heart almost broke seeing her excitement.
“Maybe.” Van smiled tightly. “Good night, kiddo.”
“Good night.” Zoe hugged her tight, and for a moment Van felt her heart rate slow down. Zoe’s hair smelled the same as Van’s – she’d begged to use her shampoo that morning. But there was a sweetness there, too. Probably the soda and candy she’d indulged on earlier. Whatever it was, it smelled like peace.
She locked all the doors as Zoe brushed her teeth, and turned out the living room light. Compared to the rest of the house, Van’s bedroom felt warm and inviting. She’d bought a new bedspread and pillow shams, and their pale gray and white flowers looked welcoming.
She glanced at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. How many times had she looked in this glass as a kid? She’d lean forward and scrutinize the freckles that dappled the bridge of her nose, wishing her skin was as pristine as Chrissie Fairfax’s. She’d scowl at the way her hair always curled into soft waves, wishing it was as straight as her friends’. No matter how many times Tanner told her she was beautiful, she hadn’t believed it.
At the age of twenty-eight she’d thought she was beyond those emotions.
And yet… her heart didn’t seem to agree. It felt so small right now. Like she was still little Van Butler, Kim’s kid. The one who had to go to school and scavenge food from wherever she could because her mom had forgotten to go to the grocery store. Pride had been her shield in those days. She’d always made sure she had the last laugh by pretending not to care.