Chapter Thirty-Eight
Honor felt as if she hadn’t slept for days. In fact, she calculated fuzzily, battling a luggage cart that wanted to travel in circles, it was only about a day-and-a-half. It just felt like more. After lying awake all night at the hotel, she hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight, staring at movies without taking them in and picking at the airline food, tension banging inside her head.
Still, it was good to be home. Even if it was odd to be home.
Most of the voices around her were American, but she’d grown used to the pecking English accent and the ironic humour. And everyone was dressed for summer here because there would definitely be one, unlike the crazy English weather that would fry you one day and drown you the next.
Exiting the Arrivals hall she sagged, wishing she’d booked her transportation between the airport and Hamilton Drives ahead. But then she heard her name and suddenly there was long-haired Jessamine in shorts, waving, and even grinning Zach home from Texas, looking too big and manly in black denim cut offs to be her little brother.
And her dad, buttoned up in a tan golf shirt, who crossed the polished floor, yanked her from behind her luggage cart and into a bear hug. ‘When Will rang last night and said that Stefan had just gotten home, alone, I nearly lost my mind. If Jessamine hadn’t found out about the same time that you were on your way, too, I would have jumped on the first plane to England.’
He sounded so fiercely protective that Honor felt fresh tears prickling. ‘Well, here I am,’ was all she could whisper.
The arms tightened. ‘It’s so good to see you, honey.’
In no time, she found herself packed into the front passenger seat of her dad’s blue Ford Escape, though Zach-long-legs should have been awarded that prime spot. Zach tugged her ponytail and said, ‘Did you get to see many castles, Honor?’ And everyone talked about England and history and Honor’s trip, lightly, neutrally. Nobody mentioned Stef or jail or the way that Honor had taken off without a word.
Next thing, they were drawing up outside the double garage doors at her father’s house and Honor realised that somewhere, as the Escape rolled soporifically along route 7, her eyes had closed. She’d zoned out of the family conversation, missed the sunlit lake flickering through the trees and missed driving through her home town and seeing the mall and the church and all the places that she’d known since she was a child. Already, Zach was dragging out her cases while Garvin put his arm around her and steered her indoors.
In the large, well-remembered kitchen, Honor stood still, just letting home flood into her. A tall woman was waiting, smile at the ready. ‘Karen! How are you?’ Guiltily, Honor realised that she hadn’t asked after Karen on the whole trip north from the airport.
Karen gave her a hug. ‘Hi, Honor. Welcome home.’ And, miraculously, she didn’t give out any lectures. Karen might have a certain ‘my way or the highway’ aspect to her personality, but at least she wasn’t asking why Honor had run home. Like, had she done anything stupid. Like falling in love with someone when you weren’t completely free to. Like messing up that person’s life. She just glanced at Garvin with something like relief.
In an instant, Honor saw not a partisan mom — or not only a partisan mom — but a woman who had taken on someone else’s kid, a kid who had never hesitated to remind her that she wasn’t her real mom, even though she was the woman who had made Honor’s dad happy.
She felt a twinge of shame. ‘It’s good to see you, Karen. I guess I’m imposing on you—’
‘Not on family,’ said Karen, simply. ‘I got your room ready for however long you want to stay.’
That’s when Honor began to cry.
Jessamine dragged her into her arms. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Wildly, Honor shook her head.
Garvin: ‘You maybe ought to, honey.’
Zach: ‘Can any of us do anything to help?’
Honor gulped. ‘No-o-oo.’ But their sympathy and love made her cry harder, blubbing great sobs around sentence fragments. ‘Ru won’t know I’ve gone . . . I feel so bad about him.’
‘Is Ru a guy you hooked up with?’ asked Jessamine, so obviously trying her hardest to understand.
‘Nooooo,’ howled Honor, laying her head on Jessie’s shoulder. ‘My bro-oth-ther. Rufus Gordon.’
‘Oh, yeah, Rufus the brother,’ breathed Zach.
Jessamine patted Honor’s back. ‘Oh no, another brother! No wonder you’re upset.’
‘This must seem really weird to you two,’ Honor hiccupped. ‘But he’s fourteen and Robina isn’t the ideal mom. I got to really love him.’
‘It’s only a little bit weird,’ soothed Jessamine. ‘We know what a good big sister you are.’
Honor unwound from around poor Jessie, who must be feeling hot and damp, and took a deep breath. ‘I have to find Stef.’ She ignored the exchange of dubious glances around the table. ‘Dad, do you know if he’s staying with Will?’
‘I guess he is. Should I call Will and check?’
Honor rubbed her eyes. ‘No, I’ll just go on over. There’s no telling what he’ll do if he gets advance notice I’m going to show up.’
* * *
She borrowed her dad’s car, even though she knew by that spaced-out, distant, grit-eyed feeling that she was way too exhausted to drive. Her dad knew it, too, because he’d said, ‘I’ll drive you when you’re ready.’ But she waited until he was on the phone and slipped his keys off the row of hooks in the kitchen and sneaked out.
Now she thought that maybe she ought to have sneaked Jessamine or Zach out to drive for her, too, because driving when she was too tired to think straight couldn’t be good.
Luckily, Will’s house wasn’t far — what was far, in Hamilton Drives? — and so she wasn’t a public menace for more than a few minutes. And, whaddya know, there was Stef, sitting on the porch on the swing seat, eating ice cream with one hand and tapping away on his laptop with the other, looking up with a crooked grin as she barrelled into the drive and as close as she could get to the porch without running over the flower beds.
She put the car in park and jumped down.
‘Hey, babe,’ Stef called, cautiously, as if weighing up her mood.
Set-faced, she marched up and glared down at him. ‘Put them back.’
He paused. ‘Put what back?’ Thoughtfully, he gave a couple of taps to the keyboard.
She sent him a death glare. ‘Don’t mess with me over this, Stef. Put them back. Put all those websites and Twitter and Facebook accounts back exactly as you found them. Get rid of the porn and the fake sites. Put. Them. All. Back.’
Stef lifted his brows, his eyes calculating as he absorbed her words. Then he smiled. ‘If you’re going to get a divorce, why should I do anything for you?’
‘Because what you’ve done is wrong, you’ve threatened someone’s career and you want to put it right?’
He pulled a considering face and then shook his head. ‘Nope. That isn’t it.’ His fingers tapped some more. Then a slow smile spread over his face. ‘OK, I’ll make sure all those sites are exactly as they used to be. All you have to do is stay away from that pretty English boy and give our marriage another go. Come back to me, babe. You’re “Honor-bound” to.’ A joke, but his eyes told her that he was deadly serious.