Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“TELL ME EVERYTHING,” Megan demanded over the phone that night while Bailey searched the refrigerator for the ingredients to make a salad.
Since her mother left, there hadn’t been much in the way of fresh food in the house unless Bailey remembered to stop at the grocery store herself.
Her father could say what he would about her mom, but she’d run the house with precision.
And made baked goods that were the first to sell out at school fund-raisers.
Prepared healthy food with separate menus for newly vegan Bailey and her meat-eating father.
There were always clean clothes and clean sheets.
She’d always been available to proofread homework.
But lately the McCord household had taken a decided downturn.
After rejecting an old carton of wilting spinach, she closed the fridge with her hip and took the phone out onto the back screened-in porch, dragging a heavy wool blanket from the couch to take with her.
She slept out here in the summer sometimes, listening to the crickets and the wind in the leaves.
Now, even when it hovered around sixty, she liked the rush of fresh air.
With her father out for his poker night and her mother banned from the house even though she’d apparently been sprung from jail today, Bailey had free run of the house to take Meg’s call.
Well, except for Hazel, her father’s Irish setter, who thumped her tail on her dog bed for three swishes before she got to her feet to greet Bailey.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Scratching behind Hazel’s silky right ear, Bailey thought back to the quiet car ride home with Dawson that morning. “He brought me home from school since I was so rattled about seeing J.D.”
Thank goodness she’d left before the drama with her mother had unfolded in the school parking lot. She’d received a whole slew of texts reporting the news.
She climbed into the porch swing that was actually a twin-size mattress on a flat frame to keep it level.
The sheets that were normally on it in the summer had been traded for flannel—something her mom had done before her arrest. The rest of the cold-weather blankets were folded on the end of the mattress, including a down comforter with a denim duvet.
She kicked her shoes onto the planked floor and then tucked herself between the piled blankets.
Hazel leaped up beside Bailey despite the arthritis in her hips and the stepping stool that was there to help her onto the swing. Stubborn dog.
“But how did he know to bring you home? Where did you see him?” On Megan’s end of the call, Bailey could hear electronic gunfire and explosions from whatever video game she was playing.
“He was in a back room in the guidance office, filling out paperwork to go to school at Crestwood.” At first, it seemed like incredible luck to run into the boy she’d been crushing on.
But after the quiet and awkward drive home, she wished she hadn’t accepted the ride.
Had he regretted offering? “And he knew I was freaked out because we could hear Mrs. Covington yelling at everyone that J.D. had every right to be in school.” She’d started shaking as the woman got all riled up—remembering what it felt like to be around someone who could get angry so fast. “I told Dawson I needed to leave, and he offered to drive me.”
It had been really nice of him. So why had he been so quiet after that? She doubled up a pillow behind her head, staring out at the purple streaks of twilight while Hazel circled her feet and tried to find the best possible spot to lie down.
“Well, he’s not a taxi service. He must have wanted to hang out with you. Or help you. Or get your attention. Right?”
“Wrong. He just happened to be stuck in the same room as me when he overheard me having a personal crisis.” She felt the dog freeze. “What guy wants to get involved with a girl whose ex-boyfriend will only stay away if she has a restraining order on him?”
Headlights shone along the side of the house, and Hazel leaped off the bed to stand at the back door, her tail wagging.
Was her father home early? It didn’t sound like his truck in the driveway.
Bailey hugged the throw blanket around her shoulders and slipped off the swing to see who it could be, sliding her shoes back on her feet.
“With all respect to guys, do you really believe they consider things that carefully? He’s eighteen, Bailey. He thinks you’re cute. End of story.” A happy electronic tune chimed on Megan’s end of the call, signaling a victory in her game.
But by now, Bailey could see the outline of a figure coming around the side of the house. Toward the rear door.
“Someone’s here.” Panic made her throat close. It couldn’t be J.D. Could. Not. Be. She backed up a step, closer to the door to the house.
But Hazel had never liked Bailey’s former boyfriend. And the dog’s tail was still in motion. Her arthritic legs high-stepping in excitement.
“Bailey?” Her mother stepped out of the shadows. She wore a man’s-style trench coat over pale jeans and a white T—clothes Bailey didn’t remember her wearing before.
“Mom?” Her father had changed the locks after her mother was arrested. “I heard you were out and that you went to the school first.”
She hadn’t been surprised to learn her mother had been released on bail.
Her father had been saying Mom’s expensive lawyer would win his appeal for bail sooner or later.
But it bugged Bailey to think her mother’s first stop was to make trouble with Mrs. Covington instead of trying to see her own daughter.
At her feet, Hazel whimpered and scratched to get out.
“My worthless lawyer finally made good on his promise to free me before the trial.” Her mother shrugged.
Seriously? Her mother deserved to be behind bars for what she’d done to Megan.
How could a grown woman harass a teenager like that, pretending to be a peer?
It was totally sick. And her mother had never apologized, never tried to send her a letter from jail explaining why she’d done any of the horrible things she’d done.
Bailey said nothing.
“I hoped I could see you,” her mother said finally, perhaps guessing Bailey wasn’t going to let her off easily. “I knew tonight was your dad’s poker night, so I took a chance.” She smiled at Hazel through the screen door. “Could you let the dog out at least?”
“I might as well since she’s the only one who is happy to see you.” Bailey cracked open the door so Hazel could greet her mother. “Meg, I’d better call you back,” she said into the phone, feeling her friend’s disapproval even if Megan didn’t discourage her.
“Be careful, okay?” Megan warned her. “Want me to call someone? Let your dad know she’s there?”
“It’s okay.” No matter how angry she was with her mother, she felt like she deserved an explanation for some of the things that had happened. “I’ll be fine.”
“Call me back when she leaves, okay?” Megan asked. “I have something to tell you.”
“For sure,” she said absently.
Ending the call, she stepped out into the dark evening, still holding her blanket around her shoulders like a shawl.
“I picked up some groceries.” Her mother pointed toward the driveway, where her car was still running, the headlights on. “I’ll get them for you before I go.”
“Yeah?” She watched Hazel rub her doggy face against her mom’s right knee and then her left one, happy as a dog could be. It was easier for Hazel, who didn’t know Mom’s villainous side. “I was just trying to make a salad a second ago. There’s nothing.”
Her mother pursed her lips and frowned. She looked strangely good, though.
Like she’d been to the spa for three weeks instead of prison, which seemed weird.
The little worry lines that used to be around her forehead all the time had eased.
She wasn’t moving around at a mile a minute trying to get things done.
“Bailey, I’m so sorry for everything. I don’t expect you to forgive me.
I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness.” She rubbed the dog’s head, and Bailey noticed her wedding ring was gone.
“I’m going to try to patch up whatever I can fix, but.
.. I don’t know. I just wanted you to hear it from me directly that I understand what I did was so wrong, and I’m going to try hard to be a better person. ”
“Dad is crazy angry.” She’d listened to his tirades—ugly stuff about her parents’ marriage that she wished she’d never heard. She knew her father would never take her mother back in a million years.
“Rightly so.” Her mother’s expression was unreadable, but she didn’t look away.
“But setting aside all the ways you hurt Dad? I’m so angry about what you did to my best friend.” Her mom had made the anonymous texts sound like they’d come from one of the girls at school. “You told Megan she might as well die.”
Her eyes burned to think that level of hate had come from her mother. The person who was supposed to love her the most in the world.
“I have regretted that every day since I sent it.” She straightened from petting the dog, folding her arms tight. “Every hour. I knew it was stupid at the time. I knew I was stupid for letting Jeremy talk me into it.” She frowned as if she still didn’t understand it herself.
This conversation sucked for about a million reasons. But it was really strange to stand there and be disappointed with her mother for acting like the most idiotic teenager on the planet. Since when was Bailey the adult in this relationship?
“Did you ever stop to consider what could have happened if Megan had taken the message to heart? Like, what if she was having a bad day and she got a note that said ‘You might as well die.’” Her mother had—as she was fond of reminding people—run a major electronics company at one time.
How could someone so smart do something so dumb just because her boyfriend told her to?
“What if she decided her life was shit and she should end it all?”