Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Put one foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.
It repeated through my mind like a mantra. It was something I’d said to myself during each and every one of our many moves when I was a kid.
When I was sad about losing the one new friend I’d inevitably managed to make, I said it.
When I was angry that my mother had broken up with yet another boyfriend and I was the one paying, I said it.
When I was resigned to just making it to adulthood so I could finally separate from her, I said it.
Over and over I’d repeated it. Just one foot in front of the other.
Today, those words had a different meaning. My mind was surprisingly clear despite the circumstances. I hoped that meant the situation wouldn’t end in catastrophe.
“Hello,” I said in a soft, friendly voice as I stepped out onto the front porch.
Mom snapped her eyes in my direction, panic and anger warring for supremacy. “I’ve got this,” she hissed. “Go inside.”
Next to her, Blair, the superfan, stood with one hand hidden by a long-sleeved cardigan.
It was way too warm for long sleeves, especially of the yarn variety.
That meant she was either hiding something in that sleeve, or she wanted my mother to believe she was hiding something. I had no idea which one was true.
“Oh, don’t go inside,” Blair replied darkly, hatred reflected back at me as I locked gazes with her. “You’re the one I’m here to see.”
I’d already figured that out. “I’m not leaving.
” I had yet to descend the steps that led to the front yard.
It seemed like a better idea to make her come to me.
“Would you like some iced tea?” I gestured toward the small bistro table I kept on the porch.
It had been included in the sale, and originally I hadn’t thought I’d like it.
I’d been wrong about that. Apparently, I’d been wrong about a lot of things, including Blair.
“I’m not here for a social call,” Blair sneered. She hadn’t left my mother’s side, but she seemed interested in my progress as I sat. “What are you doing?”
“It’s hot,” I replied. “Too hot for the sun. You should come up and join me here.”
“And leave your mother? Why would I ever leave such a delightful creature? By the way, I see where you get your penchant for being a whore.”
I didn’t react. That was what she wanted. “My mother has nothing to do with this. She has her own problems.” I forced my attention to my mother. “You should visit Rufus. I bet he’s wondering where you are.”
My mother was many things, including a menace to men. She hadn’t survived this long by being an idiot, though. She knew how to extricate herself from a sticky situation. That didn’t mean she always did the right thing.
“I was thinking you would call Rufus and tell him I’m going to be late,” Mom replied in a saccharine voice that was faker than a Kardashian butt.
I frowned.
She frowned.
I frowned harder.
She didn’t let up.
Ultimately, I sighed and forced myself to focus on Blair. “You should take a seat in the shade. It’s really hot out today.”
Blair was incredulous. “I am not here to hang out with you and drink iced tea.”
“Oh, I know.” My smile was rueful. “You’re here because of Brody.”
“Well, at least you finally figured it out,” she said darkly. “I was starting to think you were as dumb as that crap you write.”
I let the insult regarding my books slide off my shoulders. Now was so not the time. “We should talk about Brody.” I imagined the cops coming down the road with muted sirens and lights, which allowed me to maintain control of the situation. “You’re in love with him, right?”
Blair rolled her eyes. “I’m not in love with him.”
Uh-oh. That was the assumption I’d been operating under. What am I supposed to do here?
“I don’t know him well enough to love him,” she continued. “I just know he shouldn’t be in love with you.”
I blinked, then I blinked again. When I smiled, it was forced. “Why don’t you think we should be together?”
“Because he’s too good for you.”
“Hey!” Mom planted her hands on her hips and glared at Blair. “My kid is better than anybody. If anybody isn’t good enough for somebody else, it’s Brody who needs to step up his game.”
Weirdly, I’d been waiting for my mother to stand up for me my entire life. It wasn’t lost on me that she’d finally decided to do it now, at the exact wrong time. A humorless laugh escaped me before I could contain it.
“You think this is funny?” Blair challenged, raising an eyebrow that was more eye pencil than hair.
“I think this situation touches on surreal,” I replied honestly. “There are a lot of moving parts here, some you can’t be privy to unfortunately.”
“You don’t want to share with the class?”
“I don’t think you’re going to care about my relationship with my mother, who has been dating Brody’s father.” The goal here was to get Blair to think about something other than herself.
“See!” Blair jabbed the index finger of the hand I could see into the air. I still had no idea what was in that sleeve, and it bothered me. “You can’t date the son of the guy your mother is dating. That’s just weird.”
“What’s weird about it?” Mom shot back. “It’s not as if they’re blood relatives. We could be one big happy family.”
Now was not the time to break apart Mom’s delusions, so I didn’t respond to the statement.
“Oh, please.” Blair rolled her eyes at Mom. “Everybody knows Rufus Bates dates society bimbos. You’re too old, and you’re from a lower class than the pool he usually fishes in. That man is not sticking with you.”
Mom pouted. “You don’t know.”
Blair ignored her and focused on me. “I warned you to stay away from Brody. You’re not the type of woman he needs.”
“You warned me?”
“The tires.” She offered up a “well, duh” look. “Why wasn’t that enough for you?”
Even though I’d sort of figured she was responsible for the tires, part of me had still believed it was Joey.
Or maybe I just wanted to believe it. But Joey was innocent.
Well, maybe not innocent. The guy had purposely gone out of his way to make me uncomfortable.
He was not a dirty tire slasher, though.
“Did you warn Brody too?” I asked, my mind going to the vandalism.
“Of course. I saw the way you two were looking at each other at the event. You tried to hide it, but it was obvious. I wanted him to see the trash in his yard and associate it with you.”
“I’m not sure that translated,” I replied dryly.
“Why do you think I’m here?” There was no sign of Blair’s smile, the one I’d gotten used to at the events. She was like a completely different person. “You guys can’t take a hint.”
“You followed us on the hearse tour.” It wasn’t a question. “It wasn’t an accident that you showed up at the Mexican restaurant.”
She just blinked.
“You put the video of Brody and me up on TikTok,” I continued.
That was enough to dislodge her tongue. “I thought people would make fun of you. Brody is obviously a higher level of author than you. I mean… you write romance.” Her eye roll was pronounced. “He writes masterful prose and fiction. You write sex scenes, for crying out loud.”
Her disdain was overt. I didn’t take it personally. I never did. She was obviously deranged. Even if she hadn’t been, fiction was one of those things that was subjective. Not everybody liked the same thing. That was why it was so amazing to be a reader.
“Can I ask you something?” I kept my expression brutally pleasant, although it took effort.
Blair shrugged. “I guess.”
“How do you see this going?” I was honestly curious. “Do you think you’re going to scare me away from Brody so you can have him?”
Annoyance pinched Blair’s brows together. “I don’t know that we belong together. I’m not some crazed fan. We haven’t even had a chance, though. You took that away from me.”
“Is that what you were doing at the events? Were you trying to get your chance?”
“Yes, but you kept interrupting us. You said my notebook was stupid.”
“I don’t believe I said it was stupid.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I said it was cruel,” I clarified. “I stand by that. You can’t criticize somebody’s life work—over and over and over again—and expect them to be okay with it. That’s not how it works.”
To my surprise, Blair looked to be actually considering the words. “So you’re saying I made the mistake, not him.”
Sticky situation. For how much she liked to dish out criticism, Blair was incapable of being on the receiving end of it.
“I’m saying constant criticism makes people turn inward.
” I chose my words carefully. “I know because I got constant criticism from her when I was a kid.” I jerked my thumb toward Mom.
“Oh, really, Bree,” Mom deadpanned. “Is now the time to work out your childhood therapy issues?”
For some reason, that made me want to laugh. This was not a funny situation. The fact that she could be herself despite what was going on was just so Sylvia, though. It was why I couldn’t cut her out of my life.
“Mom, go inside,” I ordered.
This wasn’t a Lifetime-movie situation. Well, maybe it was, but it wasn’t going to end like one of those movies. Blair wasn’t going to try to stab me. She wasn’t going to pull off her shirt and reveal a bomb. She was just an intense woman who needed to be talked off a ledge.
“No.” Mom folded her arms. “There’s no way that’s happening.”
I couldn’t waste time arguing with her, so I turned my full attention back to Blair. “Why did you slash my tires? Did you think that would stop Brody and me from going home together?”
She shrugged, and I was relieved she didn’t deny what had happened.
“I was just mad. You guys aren’t even supposed to like one another,” she said.
“Why do you say that?” I was just burning time until the police showed up. Then this would all be over.
“Because of what happened at that panel you were on together.”
I froze. “You know about that?”
“Everybody knows about it. The other authors were talking.”
“Are you an author?” That didn’t fit my picture of her.