Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
RAVEN
M y eye twitches as I listen to Kaitlyn LeBossy drone on and on about the Halloween carnival at the PTO meeting that I debated skipping. I should be paying better attention, but with every word that leaves her mouth, all I can think about is how she’s used her words to hurt people.
Kaitlyn is just like the girls I grew up with. They walk around with their noses in the air as if no one else matters. Like we all live to serve her majesty, Queen Kaitlyn. Now that’s one monarchy that I would happily overthrow and party at their beheading in the town square.
The elementary cafeteria probably isn’t the best place to be spewing hatred with my eyes, but this is my outlet, and I’m taking it.
As I’m distracted plotting Kaitlyn’s demise, a woman plops down in the seat next to me.
Her gorgeous appearance doesn’t distract me from the abnormality of the situation.
No one has sat next to me at the last two meetings.
I’m pretty sure Kaitlyn and her minions have threatened every other mom into making me feel ostracized.
I hope this brave soul doesn’t get backlash for not obeying the creed of Dictator Kaitlyn LeBitch.
I study her with my guard up. You never know what may happen when you’re in a room full of vultures, as Camden would call them.
It doesn’t help that this woman looks as if she were cut from the same cloth as Kaitlyn.
Bleached blonde hair, lip fillers, orange skin.
Her eyes are hidden behind Gucci sunglasses, and her nails are painted blood red.
“Raven, are you sure you have everything you need for the dunk tank?” Kaitlyn inquires, drawing me from my observation of the new woman. Her brow is raised, like she’s throwing down a challenge.
Sitting up in my chair, I’m unwilling to let her see me as anything but what I am—Montgomery retribution. “In the last email, you said the PTO already has the tank, baseballs, and everything else. So, I guess the real question is, are you sure you have everything for the dunk tank?”
I see your challenge, and I raise you an insult.
“I assure you, we do.” Kaitlyn’s fake smile wouldn’t fool a blind person. Her frustration crawls up her shoulders as she addresses someone else about their assignment, like the good micromanager she is.
“My hat is off to you,” the woman next to me whispers with a smile on her lips.
“Thanks,” I respond. “All in a day’s work.”
My potential new friend continues the conversation, “She stuck you with the dunk tank?”
“Yeah, I was late to the first meeting,” I explain.
Kaitlyn’s glare turns deadly in my direction. “Anything you’d like to share with the rest of us, Raven? We’re always open to new ideas.”
Rolling my eyes, I don’t bother to hide the motion. Public humiliation doesn’t faze me. I open my mouth, prepped with a quip, but my neighbor interjects.
“Now, now, Katie. No need to pitch a hissy fit.” Then she lowers her sunglasses and gives Kaitlyn a wink.
Kaitlyn flinches, blinking rapidly. She flounders for a response, then clears her throat. “Anyway, setup will begin promptly at noon.”
Tuning out Kaitlyn’s redundant information dump, I lean so I can whisper lower. “It seems it should be me taking my hat off to you .”
She smirks. “I’ve known Katie for a long time. She’s always been one to go on power trips.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I snort.
“You handle her just fine,” she promises me. “Not everyone is brave enough to take her down a peg. The fact that you are is a good thing.”
“Well, someone has to.”
She leans my way, lightly bumping her shoulder with mine. “I’m Ruby, the way.”
“Raven,” I return.
“Hey, you’re the new bartender at The Wandering Raven, right?”
“That’s me.”
“Those Montgomery twins are a nice little snack, right?”
A visible flush colors my cheeks as spots dot my vision. If it wouldn’t get me arrested, I’d knock this bitch out right here, right now.
I loosen my tightened jaw to respond. “Have you had them for a… snack ?”
“Oh, yes.” Ruby smiles to herself as whatever memory she has of them comes forward.
Cage the rage. Cage the rage.
She gives me a smirk. “Have you had a taste?”
Maybe this woman doesn’t know how close she is to death right now.
Ruby does a small hop in her seat, angling her position to face me. “You little slut! You totally have. We should compare notes.”
Okay, no. This has to stop.
“Just because we’ve had sex with the same people doesn’t mean that we’re in a club.”
Ruby’s face pinches, filling with tension. “And it’s a wonder why no one sat next to you.” With her parting jab, she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and stomps out of the meeting in her extremely high Prada heels.
I don’t want to admit that her hit landed, but in a way, it did. Am I that obvious? Do I have a sign on my back that says, “Loner but not by choice?”
I can’t let it show that she got to me. I’m in a room full of sharks, and they’re just waiting for me to bleed.
As soon as Kaitlyn ends the meeting, I’m out of my seat and down at the front of the school, waiting for the bell to ring.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long, and I’m able to make myself look busy as the other moms exit the school by staring at my phone, pretending to text and scroll. But really, I’m playing Wordscapes.
Droves of children rush down the hall, excited for the end of the school day. They laugh with each other and play around, causing even more chaos. I’m searching for Noah when I finally notice that he’s one of the frolicking children. He’s caged in by two boys his age on either side of him.
Is one of those kids his bully?
But…he’s laughing genuinely. His smile spreads from ear to ear, and the other two boys laugh with him. Noah’s shoulders are loose, not stiff. His eyes are full of light, not trepidation.
Witnessing this monumental step passed his obstacle has my throat clogging up and my eyes watering.
When Noah finally notices me, he says bye to his friends and runs straight for me, waving around a piece of paper. “Mom! Guess what? Today, I made a map of the United States out of noodles.”
I swallow my emotions to reply to him. “That’s so exciting, little king! Do you?—”
“Miss Henry.” Noah’s teacher, Mrs. Burke, stands behind Noah with her arms folded.
Tucking Noah into my side, I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Mrs. Burke, how are you?”
Her eyes dart from side to side. “Tell them I did what they asked. It stopped.”
I blink, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Just tell them,” she emphasizes again.
My mouth opens and closes. Is this a practical joke? “Tell who?”
Mrs. Burke frowns, chastising me. “Don’t act dumb.”
“I honestly have no?—”
“Tell them,” she interrupts me and walks away.
I look down at Noah. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
Noah shrugs.
What is with the people of Mystic River today? It’s like there’s something in the water. Cranky teachers and horny former hookups out here just slinging their attitudes all over me.
Speaking of which…
Someone has some explaining to do.
Taking anger out on my laundry isn’t the most mature, but it’s productive.
And hopefully, I don’t break anything in the process.
I thought the dryer door was broken after I slammed it shut, but after careful inspection, I concluded that it would survive.
Folding made me angry all over again because there isn’t a way to angrily fold the laundry.
The laundry ends up just being another heap of jumbled clothing.
After the PTO meeting, I waited for Noah to be done with school and went home.
I explained to him that I wasn’t in a good mood and needed to work through it.
My heart broke and dissipated some of my fury when he asked if he had done anything wrong.
The last thing I want is for him to feel responsible for my emotions.
But then we got home, and I saw the guys’ motorcycles in their driveway. I told Noah that I needed to be alone for a bit, and he scurried off to do his homework so he could go outside and throw his football.
So here I am, putting away the clean laundry and slamming the dresser drawers because this is finally therapeutic.
Stack of shirts. Open the drawer. Set them down. SLAM!
Pile of leggings. Open the drawer. Set them down. SLAM!
“Raven!”
“Noah!”
My front door opens, and the objects of my sour mood walk right into the blast zone.
Sleep shorts and shirts. Open the drawer. Set them down. SLAM!
Little feet scamper across the hardwood floors downstairs. “You’re here! Are you here to throw my football with me?”
Denim shorts. Open the drawer. Set them down. SLAM!
I can hear the confusion in Griffin’s voice. “Uhh. In a bit, my man. Knox and I are going to check on your mom.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mom said she wants alone time.”
Bras and panties. Open the drawer. Set them down. SLAM!
I don’t listen to the rest of what they’re saying. The more I think about them, the more I remember Ruby and everything she said.
With no more clothes to put in my dresser, I huff and kick it as if it told me I look fat in my jeans.
“Whoa. What did the dresser do to earn your wrath?” Griffin jokes.
My muscles tremble as a flurry of emotions swirl around my body. “I can’t do this with Noah in the house. I don’t want him to hear.”
Knox fills me in. “We sent him outside.”
I’m officially in the clear to let it all out. But should I?
My calming breath doesn’t do its job. So, I try again. And again.
“Darlin’?”
Nope! Not today!
Whirling on them, I ball my fists at my side. “Don’t you dare Darlin’ me!” I pinch of guilt gnaws at me. It’s not their fault. I know it’s not. But it’s like today was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Blinking, Griffin pipes up, “Maybe you’re the one who has done something to earn her wrath.”
Pointing my finger, I add, “I’m not too happy with you either, Griffin Montgomery.”
“She last named you,” Knox says with lifted brows and a ghost of a smile.