13. Chapter Thirteen #2
“Uncle Jack.” Marcie’s voice was tired—of course it would be, after four days in and out of the hospital with her mother—but calm. Not in a panic. “They’re moving Daniel tomorrow. A rehab facility for physical therapy.” She paused. “I’m coming home, Jack.”
Relief flooded me. “Yeah? They think he’s ready?”
“They don’t know how much better he’s going to get, but they’re pretty sure now he’s not going to get any worse,” she said. “He’s stable. Mom’s been pressuring me to leave and get some sleep in an actual bed for days now. Keeps telling me I have this husband I need to look in after…”
“I miss you, babygirl,” I said with a smile. “I miss you so goddamn much, Marcie.”
“I miss you, too,” she said, sounding like she meant it. “I’m really looking forward to coming home.”
There was a pause on the line. I could tell that wasn’t all Marcie wanted to say. I waited.
“Uncle Jack?”
“Yes, angel?”
Marcie’s voice edged into uncertainty. “When I get home, can we make that appointment? The doctor’s. The one we talked about. I want to do that as soon as I come home.”
I closed my eyes for a second. Of course that’s what she’d ask. My angel—my absolute angel Marcie—had been at her father’s bedside for ninety-six hours, all while that little worry she’d been carrying along with her nibbled at the back of her brain.
She was so patient. But she was tired of falling behind the other wives. If there was something keeping my babygirl from getting pregnant, we were going to find out what it was and take whatever steps we could.
“Absolutely, babygirl,” I said. “I’ll book it the second the interview is done. We’ll do it on the damn drive home if you want.”
“Good,” Marcie said, and I could tell she was relieved, too. “I do want to come home and take a shower first, though. Maybe the day after I come home?”
“It’s a date,” I told her. “I love you, Marcie.”
“I love you too, Uncle Jack. Thank you for letting me do this. I know I should’ve stayed home—”
“Babygirl. Stop.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You never need to apologize for caring about your family, babygirl. I love that about you. There was never a version of this where I demanded you come home with me and leave your parents in the lurch.”
I could hear her sob a bit in the background. “I love you so much, Jack.”
“I love you, too, angel,” I told her. “I’ll come pick you up from the hospital myself, okay? Just me.”
“Okay,” she said. “Tell Sam she’s going to freaking kill it, okay?”
I laughed. “I will.”
“And tell Caroline I want her to teach me how to do that eye thing she did to Kiki on Morning Harbor. That looked, like, so badass.”
Another chuckle. “Absolutely.”
“See you soon, Uncle Jack.”
“See you soon, angel.”
The line clicked. I stood there for a few moments, gathering my thoughts, then headed back into the green room.
By the time I walked in, Samantha was already mic’d up.
Someone must have come and done it for her—there was a little flesh-colored lav clipped to the collar of her blazer, the battery pack hidden against the small of her back.
Caroline knelt in front of her, doing a pass beneath her eyes with a very tiny brush while Samantha stared up at the ceiling.
Mona watched from a short distance, her phone at her side.
Her gaze met mine from across the room as I entered. A spark passed between us, and she smiled.
“Everything okay, Daddy?” Samantha asked.
The word Daddy failed to rattle Caroline in the slightest.
“We’re good,” I said. “Daniel’s leaving the hospital tomorrow for a rehab facility. Marcie’s coming home.” I glanced at the makeup tech. “She wants Caroline to teach her a couple of makeup tricks.”
“The eye thing?” Caroline guessed, flashing that secretive smile. “I’d be happy to.”
“That is such great news,” Samantha said. “Oh my gosh, I’m so ready to have Marcie back.”
An intern stuck their head inside the room. “Producer will be by momentarily.”
That was good, too. “You ready, babygirl?” I asked once they were gone.
Samantha smiled. “Oh, I’m ready. Are you?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
My babygirl laughed. “Have you looked at the group chat? I’ve got some absolutely debauched anecdotes in my quiver, Daddy. Mona wants this to be a tell-all, and I’m absolutely going to tell all. All the dirty details.
“That’s… I understand that’s what this podcast wants.”
Samantha’s smile turned a touch feral. “I’m going to tell Fiona Hall exactly how much I love my fellow wives,” she said. “And if the subject comes up, there’s something else I’m going to tell them about, too.”
Mona stiffened. “Samantha, are you sure—?”
“I’ve been running from it long enough,” she said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Next to her, Caroline nodded along. “I’m not going to proactively do it, Mona. But if it comes up, I’m not staying silent about my parents. I’m unloading with both fucking barrels.”
I let out a surprised sound. The idea of Samantha putting her narcissist, swinger parents on blast directly into the earbuds of millions of women was… well, it was certainly what they deserved.
Mona looked like she wanted to argue. Suddenly, I didn’t want her to argue.
“If that’s what you want, babygirl, then I support you,” I said quickly. “Speak your truth.”
“Right on,” Caroline agreed with a smile.
Someone knocked on the door. When it opened, the producer stood in the open doorframe.
She was about what I’d expected. She was maybe—maybe—three or four years older than Samantha, honey-blonde and with the kind of good looks that opened doors. She smiled at Samantha in a way that was almost the way the receptionist had smiled at her, but not quite.
“Miss Avery!” she said, stepping into the room. “Don’t you look amazing! Listen, we’re on in fifteen, just wanted to give you the lay of the land…”
“Of course,” Sam said warmly.
“But from what I understand, you’re pretty familiar with the podcast’s ins and outs already,” she said with another smile. “There’s just one little head-up I wanted to make you aware of.”
I paused. Why did that sound wrong to me?
“You know how Fiona is,” the producer said, grinning like her and Samantha were the best of buddies.
“She just adores drama. After what happened on Morning Harbor, we’re absolutely chasing that dragon, and we’ve got a little viral moment we’re going to go with about halfway through the interview.
Don’t freak out, okay? You know how Fiona gets. This is totally her thing.”
Samantha swallowed hard, her gaze turning wary. “What kind of surprise?” She glanced at me, looking almost hopeful. “Does Fiona want Daddy to come out, the way he did when Kiki was being interviewed?”
The producer’s smile froze on her face. “It’s just a really small thing,” she said, as if she regretted bringing it up. “Nothing to worry about, and honestly—we want your reaction to be genuine. If it’s not, we might not get the shots we want. So just try to look like you weren’t expecting it—”
“But I have no idea what to expect!” Samantha said, looking from me to Mona and back at the producer. “You’re not telling me anything—”
I’d heard enough of this.
I stepped between my babygirl and the producer. “Don’t tell her,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Tell me.”
The producer swallowed hard.
“You can preserve my babygirl’s surprised face,” I said, the words coming out as a growl. “But I will know about this ahead of time. After what happened with Morning Harbor… you understand, yeah?”
The color drained from the producer’s face. “Mr. Avery, maybe we should step out into the hall…”
“Good idea,” I agreed. “Be right back, babygirl.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Samantha said nervously. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be that bad…”
It couldn’t, could it?
Back out in that hot pink hallway, I shut the green room door with a touch more force than required. “Spill it,” I growled, nearly losing my temper.
“Mr. Avery—”
“What is the surprise.”
She shrank back from the tone in my voice. “Fiona’s got a special guest who’s going to join us at the halfway point,” she said, her voice going totally flat and frightened. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything—she’s over in the other side of the studio, getting mic’d up as we speak—”
She?
“Who is it?” I demanded.
The producer swallowed hard. “Dawn Lowry,” she said. “Samantha’s mother.”
END OF PART SIXTEEN