The Forgotten Summer (Book 2 Newport Beach Series)

Chapter 5

Abigail wasn’t shy about asking for help when she needed it, but there was something about needing company to fall asleep that made her feel truly helpless—a feeling she had allowed to stick around for long. The problem was that she really didn’t have a solution this time.

Every night since the failed movie marathon, either Cleo or Byron—or both—had conveniently shown up at her place around seven o’clock at night, bringing dinner, cooking it, or ordering it in. After they’d eaten, they would migrate into the sitting room to watch something on TV until Abigail had fallen asleep. There had been no discussion of it whatsoever, and Abigail wanted to keep it that way, but she couldn’t see a way to do that while convincing them she didn’t need to be babysat.

“Cleo,” she said seriously, “can I ask you something?”

Cleo looked up at her across the kitchen table, where she was organizing the sushi platter that she and Abigail had just finished rolling.

“No.”

Blinking, Abigail did a small double take.

“What?”

“No,” Cleo repeated, “you’re not allowed to ask me a question.”

Aware that she sounded like a whining child, Abigail asked, “Why?”

Standing from her seat, Cleo gave her a look.

“Because unless your question is about how soon people are getting here to eat this so we can go watch the next Star Wars film, I’m not interested.”

“But-!”

“No buts!” Cleo countered.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

Crossing the kitchen, Cleo laughed.

“Yes, actually, I do,” she said, “you were going to ask me if we would consider abandoning you when you need it most out of pride, ego, or sheer bullheadedness.”

Abigail glared.

“I—It’s not... I mean—it’s not when I need it most!”

The look Cleo gave her would have made Medusa proud.

“Really?”

Abigail’s phone rang. The twins were video calling her.

“Yes, really. I’m fine!” Abigail said, sliding to answer, “Hello girls!”

A chorus of high-pitched yelling, sobs, and a strongly accented British man muttering assaulted the kitchen. Both Abigail and Cleo flinched. Abigail tapped the speakerphone button to try and dull it, but it only became more painful.

“I’m going to take this in the study, okay?”

Cleo nodded, making a cross with her fingers at the phone as if she was warding off a vampire. Rolling her eyes at Cleo, Abigail made her way to the study and closed the door as she put the phone back on speaker.

“Girls, can we go one at a time please?”

After several attempts at speaking over one another, their grandfather tried to win by sheer force.

“All right, enough!”

All that accomplished was the two girls crying even more; Liam’s father wasn’t a bad person. He was just rather out of touch with parenting.

“Anthony, please don’t shout at my children,” Abigail said calmly, pressing her thumbnail into the pad of her forefinger. “Girls, let’s take some deep breaths, and then one of you can tell me what’s going on.”

It took a few more minutes but eventually Hannah managed to stop her tears for long enough to gasp out, “Granddad says Dad’s going to marry Erika and we have to move here and pretend like she’s our Mom!”

Out of everything Hannah could have said, Abigail would never have guessed that would be what came out of her mouth.

“DAD’S BEEN CHEATING ON YOU MOM!”

The words cut into Abigail like wounds and she did her best not to flinch, despite knowing they couldn’t possibly be true.

“Girls,” she said, “Sid, Hannah—you know your father and I have been separated for a long time now. We talked about this with you then. You remember when we decided that we wouldn’t be getting back together? We talked about how either one of us might start seeing other people—”

“Yes, but you didn’t!” Sid cried, “and we didn’t think he had either! But it turns out he did and she lives here!”

Abigail took a deep breath. It would have been nice of Liam to mention it to avoid this very avoidable conflict, but there was no reason he actually had to.

“Who your father chooses to spend time with is up to him,” Abigail said, “I have to ask, why has this come up now and why is everyone so upset about it?”

At this point, Anthony tried to lean in to talk, but Sid turned her head and glared at him. Hannah sniffed and wiped her face.

“He’s gone out to dinner,” she said, the emotion finally draining out of her. “We asked Granddad where he went, and he said that Erika is going to be our new Mom.”

“I did not!”

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. Sid spoke next.

“He said that Erika is Dad’s girlfriend, and if everything goes well, he might marry her and move back here.”

“Did he now?” Abigail said, seeking Anthony’s face in the camera.

He didn’t even have the good grace to look ashamed.

“I said that if their father did marry Erika then they might consider spending more time here as she is, after all, British.”

Anthony raised his eyebrows at her and shrugged in a cartoonish ‘what did I do?’ gesture that made Abigail grit her teeth.

“If there was to be any kind of relocation—anywhere at all—there would be an extensive discussion about it first,” Abigail said, “that would apply if we were moving to a house ten miles away, let alone another country. Remember, neither your father or I would ever want anything that was less than the best for you, okay?”

The girls nodded, but Abigail noticed Sid looking more and more guilty.

“Sid?”

Silence.

“Sidney?”

Her technically youngest daughter huffed.

“Why do you think I’ve done something!?” she exploded.

Well, there’s that,Abigail thought.

Aloud, she said, “because you have that look about you.”

Sid kicked her foot on the ground and bit her lip.

“I... I might have taken a tiny bit of revenge.”

“You what!?” Anthony cried, “Revenge?”

“Sid...” Abigail said, but she knew her daughter was about to confess, even if the girl would probably never concede she was in the wrong.

“I... He—” she jabbed her finger at Anthony, “made it sound like we didn’t get a choice, and I wanted Dad to think about what he’d done... So I flushed his whiskey down the toilet.”

“His... Whiskey?”

“It’s called poetic justice, Mom,” Sid said, “she gave it to him as a present; it’s twelve years old. WE are nearly twelve years old. So. I flushed it.”

Anthony disappeared from frame, only to return with an empty bottle and a shocked expression.

“Abigail,” he gasped, “this was a bottle of Rose Hill...”

“I don’t know what that means, Anthony,” she replied, intentionally using his name as often as he used hers.

Sid was looking more like she was about to cry again, but Hannah looked more like she wanted to make herself disappear.

Anthony cleared his throat. “It means, that Sid just flushed nearly seven hundred pounds of whiskey down the bloody loo!”

Sid paled visibly—almost as fast as her grandfather was turning purple.

“All right,” Abigail said firmly, “there will be no more yelling, crying, or screaming tonight—do I make myself clear?”

Remarkably, it worked. The three faces looking back at her were expectant.

“We will talk about this calmly and together,” she said. “Where is Liam, and when is he due back?”

Anthony checked his watch, “It’s late. The girls are supposed to be in bed.”

“Right,” Abigail said, “girls, go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas.”

Quicker than she had seen them move in a good long while, both girls were off.

“Right,” she said to Anthony, “tomorrow, we will talk this over with Liam. I’m sure he will have something to say but I’m guessing Sid will be put on community service.”

Anthony opened his mouth, and although Abigail tried to silence him with a look, he spoke anyway.

“She should be grounded at the very least!” he shouted.

“I agree,” Abigail said, “don’t look so surprised. I’m furious with her, and I’m sure both Liam and Erika will be mightily annoyed too, but kids do stupid things—especially when they don’t understand the broader context.”

“Oh, really? And that makes it okay?”

“No, obviously,” Abigail said, “but if she’s grounded as she should be, it will take up almost the entire trip, which entirely defeats the purpose of her being there. Besides, it’s expensive but at least it’s just a thing—people do stupid things when upset.”

Her ex-father-in-law tutted, but he didn’t argue. She couldn’t have been more pleased—she needed to get off the phone, right now. They said their goodnights and she texted the girls to say the same.

With a sigh, she sat back on the couch and, for the first time since the flashback, intentionally thought about the memory in the ice cream shop. She saw him in her mind’s eye, sitting across from her. Jacob had been so sure his dad was cheating on his mom, just like last time.

“I’ve decided, Abs,” he had said, “I’m going to follow my dad and get pictures—that way, Mom can’t possibly argue with the truth.”

A few days later, he had shown up at her house with a black eye, refusing to talk about it.

Abigail opened her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t be so sure about Jacob’s parents’ behavior after all.