12. Parker
Chapter twelve
Parker
T he next day, I’m still fuming as I drive through town to my mom’s house. Hearing that Bethany is coming home instantly soured my mood and ruined the rest of dinner the night before. I was so agitated and angry that I couldn’t even enjoy Chloe’s company after that bombshell was dropped. She ended up going home as soon as we reached my house and she could get her car, as if she instinctively knew it was better if she just left me alone.
Seeing her car pull away, I’d felt a pang of regret. She was the one person who could make everything better. Just her presence alone would’ve been enough to calm my nerves, but I couldn’t do that to her. I didn’t want to pull her into my family’s drama. It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything. Adding unnecessary stress onto her would be unfair and selfish, so in the end, I’m happy she left when she did.
As I navigate the familiar streets to my mom’s house, my grip tightens on the steering wheel with each passing block. It’s hard to ignore the growing sense of dread building up in me. Anticipation gnaws at me as I remember Bethany’s departure years ago, an abrupt and unpleasant memory that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Parking the car outside the white picket fence surrounding the house, I sit for a moment to stare at its cheery fa?ade. It’s such a sharp contrast to the conflict I’m feeling that it almost seems to be mocking me. The very thought of Bethany walking through those doors again is too jarring. What would we even say to each other? How would we interact? Our last interaction had been so bitter and strained that us having anything after that seemed impossible.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I swing the car door open and trudge up the walkway. I have to confront this issue now. I need an explanation from my mom, and I need to get a better sense of what I should be expecting from my twin.
The second I step inside, Mom is already waiting for me in the hallway, wringing her hands together nervously.
“Did Lauren tell you I was coming?”
She nods with a slight grimace.
“Parker,” she begins, “before you start…”
I don’t let her finish. “Why is Bethany coming home?”
She blinks at my bluntness but doesn’t falter in her response. “Because she wants to, and because she’s still a part of this family.”
“You say that as if it explains everything,” I grumble. “You should have talked to Lauren and me first. We should have had a say about Bethany coming back. After what she did—”
“I know what happened!” Mom cuts in sharply. Her eyes flash with a mixture of sadness and anger. “And I also know that we need to move on from that. You kids can’t simply pretend Bethany doesn’t exist for the rest of your lives. It’s not fair!”
“Fair?” I explode, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into my voice. “Did Bethany think about what was fair when she screwed us over? When she betrayed us and turned her back on this family without looking back?”
“Enough!” Mom’s voice resonates around the room, effectively silencing me. It’s that tone she rarely uses anymore, but it’s the one filled with an authority that I can’t argue against. It doesn’t matter if I’m an adult now, with my own opinions and thoughts, she’s still my mom. The best I can do right now is just make my case in a calm, yet firm manner. “She made a mistake, Parker. A huge one, but believe me when I tell you, she’s been paying for it all these years.”
Her words don’t pacify me in the least. I don’t care what kind of guilt-ridden life my sister has been leading. I’d be completely content never seeing her again, which only makes my irritation at my mom for making this arrangement that much stronger.
“But you’re not the one who gets to decide that,” I counter in a low but strong voice. “She’s your daughter, yes, but she’s my sister, too, and I’m not ready to forgive her.”
Mom reaches out and takes my hand, her eyes pleading with me to understand.
“I know it hurts, Parker,” she says softly. “Believe me, I understand, but we can’t change the past. All we can do is move forward and try to heal.”
It’s a sentiment I’ve heard before, a plea for peace that rings hollow in my ears. Some wounds cut too deep to simply patch up and forget. Plus, why is it that the people who have been wronged are expected to be the bigger people to make things right?
“I’m not sure I can, Mom,” I warn her, pulling my hand away to cross my arms over my chest defensively.
“Parker…” she murmurs. The disappointment is clear in her eyes.
With a sigh of frustration, I turn on my heel and head toward the door. I’ve said my piece and heard hers. There’s nothing more left to say or do. As much as I hate this situation, as much as it pains me to see Bethany again after all these years of silence and resentment, there’s also a part of me that hates upsetting my mom like I am now.
Without a backward glance, I open the front door and stride toward my car. As I slide into the driver’s seat, I grip the steering wheel tight, allowing the anger to wash over me like a tidal wave. The memory of Bethany’s betrayal comes rushing back, raw and painful as though it happened yesterday. How can Mom expect me to just put this anger aside and forgive her?
Starting the car, I let out a deep sigh and pull onto the street. I need time to clear my head, to process this unfortunate turn of events. I decide to go see Lauren. If anyone can understand how upset this whole thing has made me, it’s her.
The drive to Lauren’s house is swift, and soon, I find myself at her front door. I hit her doorbell and wait, my foot tapping impatiently. A few moments later, Lauren opens the door with a surprised frown.
“Parker? What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“I just got done talking to Mom,” I tell her grimly.
Eyes going wide, she pulls me inside and closes the door behind us.
“What did she say?” she asks.
“She wants us to put everything behind us and forgive Bethany.” Just saying the words has bitterness bubbling up inside of me.
She releases a long breath and shakes her head, her gaze sympathetic. “That’s basically what she told me, too.”
“I just…I can’t believe it,” I confess. “Not after everything.”
“I know,” Lauren murmurs. She places a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“So, what do we do?”
“I’m not sure,” Lauren replies with a sigh. “Come on, let me make us some tea. We can talk about it some more.”
I hesitate, looking over her head toward the stairs. “What about Chloe?”
The last thing I want is for Chloe to stumble in on this mess.
“She’s working late,” Lauren assures me. “We’ve got the house to ourselves for a while yet.”
Reassured that we’re alone, I follow Lauren through the house and into the kitchen. The burden of Bethany’s return presses heavily on my heart. As much as I fear what it might mean, what it might resurrect from the past, I know that I must confront it—for better or worse.