Chapter Thirty-Two Harriet
Chapter Thirty-Two
Harriet
I pull into the parking lot of the Yacht Club, empty outside of Nic’s car. It’s hard to believe that George’s memorial was just yesterday.
Harder to believe it was just yesterday that Barbara Patterson died.
I drop Nic by his car, glad for the silence of an empty car. I need to process what happened last night—or rather, what didn’t. Why did he reject me? Did I misread things?
Our conversation at the bar felt so intimate, I thought we were on the same page, that he’d forgiven me for what I did eight years ago. That it was finally going to happen.
There was only one bed after all.
But then he very literally pushed me away.
The memory sits like a lump of coal, hard and black and ugly in my mind.
It’s clear I was wrong about everything.
He was so testy in the car—probably annoyed I’d put him in that position.
He’s a nice guy after all. I’m sure he doesn’t like having to reject people.
I can only assume he has to with frequency. I mean, look at the guy.
By the time I’m pulling onto my mom’s street, I’ve decided that the only thing to do is move on. Refocus. Remember what actually matters—why we’re spending time together.
I park in the driveway, and I text my aunt Vicky.
Hi! Is there any way you could do me a huge favor?
Harriet—hi! What’s up?
I think my mom needs to get out of the house for a while. Can you invite her to coffee?
There’s a delay in her reply. She’s probably trying to figure out a way to let me down gently. She and my mom haven’t been close in many, many years.
I’m about to text again when there’s a response.
Why don’t you take her out to lunch? I’m sure she’d love that!
There’s pretty much nothing my mother would like less, but I don’t feel like explaining our tenuous relationship to Vicky over text.
Outside of the memorial, I’m really the only person she’s seen since George died. Spending time with someone different would be good for her
After a minute, I send another message.
You guys used to be friends. This would be a good opportunity to catch up.
I can’t leave your grandmother ?
You can bring her.
I really think it’d be good for her mental health. I wouldn’t ask otherwise
I need this to happen. I need to get to those keys.
Please??? I’ll owe you big time.
Finally, Vicky responds.
All right…if you really think it would help. But I can’t guarantee she’ll say yes
THANK YOU!!!
I climb out of the car and head into the house. I’m digging into the fridge when my mom walks into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I say, popping my head around the side of the door.
She jumps back with a hand against her heart. “Harriet! You scared me. What in the name of god are you doing?”
“I live here?” I say, a noodle dangling from my lips.
She continues. “And where have you been? I cannot believe you disappeared from your father’s memorial—”
“Stepfather!” I can’t help but interject.
“—and after yet another person was murdered! You didn’t come to check on me. You just took off! What could you have possibly had to deal with that was more important? You don’t even have a job, for crying out loud.”
“I had to go see someone in the city,” I say.
“For what? You got fired!” Thankfully, her phone buzzes in her hand before I can respond. “Hang on.” She squints at the screen, then mutters, “Your aunt. What is she…” She types something and shakes her head. “Well. Vicky claims I’m the only one who—” Her phone buzzes again. “Oh, good grief.”
“What is it?”
My mom sighs. “It appears I have to run out for a bit. But when I get back, we are going to finish this conversation.”
As she gathers her purse from the counter, a thought occurs to me.
“Hey, Mom?”
She glances at her watch. “Yes?”
“Did Luke and George have a good relationship?”
Now she looks at me, frowning. “Excuse me?”
“Like, were things going well between them? With their business?”
She looks thoroughly annoyed by my questions. “Of course they were, Harriet. Luke adored George. George was a mentor to him. A father figure!”
“Right, okay.” I figured that was probably the answer I’d get, but I thought I’d try my hand anyway.
“Have some respect,” she snaps and then departs, leaving me alone in the house for the first time in two weeks.