Chapter Eleven Crook County, WY Present Day #3
“You guys ready to head down?” River’s head popped in through the adjoining door.
There’d been quite a bit of arguing before they’d decided on the room assignments, but since Scarlett was the one picking up the bill, she’d had the ultimate say—and her ultimate say was that she and Chrissie would continue as planned, rooming together every step of the way to Vermont.
This meant they were sleeping on narrow twins while River luxuriated on a California king, but Chrissie didn’t mind.
It was almost as if she was back in Scarlett and her grandmother’s tiny apartment, where so many of her happiest memories resided.
River stepped into the room only to stop short when she noticed what Chrissie was wearing.
“Um…did you miss the part where your daughter said she hates that sweatshirt with the passion of a thousand burning suns?”
“No.” Chrissie ran a layer of ChapStick over her lips and checked her hair in the mirror.
Whatever magic had happened at that salon was carrying over into the next state because it still looked fantastic.
“But it’s my favorite, so I’m wearing it.
Besides—I am in my volleyball mom era. Why should I hide my true self? ”
Scarlett snorted as she rose to her feet and grabbed her bag.
“Add a pair of linen coveralls and a pumpkin spice latte, and your basic-white-lady packaging is complete.” She paused as she eyed the sweatshirt—which, yes, was oversized and tacky, but that was why Chrissie liked it. “Kat’s going to be livid, you know.”
“I know.”
“But your whole approach to parenting is to tiptoe around her emotions like they’re land mines. Since when do you deliberately provoke her?”
Chrissie drew a deep breath. The answer to that was easy: Since about thirty minutes ago.
If someone had told her a week ago that she’d be purposefully antagonizing her daughter and throwing herself into the care and keeping of an entirely different teenage girl, she’d have locked them up and thrown away the key.
But Kat had sounded different on the phone.
Playful, even. For the first time in a long time, Chrissie suspected that the thing that was broken between them wasn’t unfixable.
She could almost see the little girl who used to fling herself into her arms after school every day rippling underneath the surface, hear the pitter-patter of tiny bare feet as they tiptoed into her bed after a bad nightmare.
That girl was still in there; Chrissie was sure of it. She just had to find a way to breach the gap that time and hormones and their contrary natures seemed to be pushing open mile by mile.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Chrissie said with a sniff.
“Atta girl.” Scarlett started rummaging around in her bag. She had to work her way through half a dozen bottles of pills, three lipsticks, and a set of impossibly tangled headphones before she found the paper she was looking for.
“Oh, geez.” Chrissie groaned. “Not again.”
Scarlett tossed her both the paper and a pen. “You know the drill by now. Write it down.”
Chrissie felt a little foolish doing this in front of River, but she knew her friend well enough to know that she wouldn’t leave her alone until she added to her list.
I don’t have to explain myself to you.
She also immediately handed the paper to Scarlett, knowing she would once again add her own improvements. She did, but with such quick efficiency that Chrissie was taken aback.
I don’t have to explain myself to you ANYONE.
“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Scarlett said. She started to scoop up her belongings to return them to her bag, but she noticed River eyeing her prescription bottles with intent, narrow-eyed scrutiny. “Can I help you? See something you like?”
“What? Um. No.” River took a step back, her hands immediately shoved behind her back. Chrissie didn’t miss the way she flushed, guilt in every line of her bearing. “What’s all that stuff you’re writing down?”
Scarlett accepted this change of topic, her insouciant air back in place as she explained the list they’d been writing together, but Chrissie wasn’t so easily put off.
She was only a massage therapist, not a doctor or nurse or anything, but she was required to take continuing education classes to keep her license current.
A lot of the classes were about learning new techniques—she’d done Reiki last year—but others dealt with drug-seeking behaviors and other ethical red flags.
She really hoped that wasn’t the case here. River was already dealing with so much hardship in her life. If she was an addict on top of everything else… Well, Scarlett wouldn’t be happy.
Especially since Chrissie would feel herself honor bound to do something about it.
“Well, Volleyball Mom? Are you ready for the show of a lifetime?” Scarlett tucked her purse securely under one arm and practically pushed the pair of them out the door. “Because if bacon-wrapped antelope is all anyone has to look forward to, you two are about to be the highlight of the evening.”