Chapter 23
As Merritt got ready for the fundraiser, it felt like every winged insect in the greater Silverton County area was throwing their own party inside her stomach.
For most of the day, she’d been too busy to ruminate, as she, Pam, Freya, Larry, and half the SummerFest board had spent it transforming the Crested Peak Performing Arts Center for the opening-night gala and silent auction.
Once she was home, though, her anxieties had no other outlet and began to percolate as soon as she stepped into the shower.
It wasn’t Niko she was concerned about, though she had no doubt she was absorbing some of his nerves about being onstage. If she was being honest, it had started the night before, when she’d gotten a text from Nora confirming she was in town and would be bringing her entire blended family tonight.
Of course Merritt was looking forward to seeing Nora.
She’d invited her, after all. But at the same time, her life in LA felt so disconnected from the life she’d been building here, and apprehension rippled through her at the idea of bridging the two.
In so many ways, Nora was inextricably tied to the version of herself she wanted to bury, the one she was ashamed still had witnesses.
But what was she really worried about, when she drilled down to it?
That just the sight of Nora would be enough to send her backsliding to square one?
She had to stop thinking of the worst version of herself as the real one, any progress she’d made since then a mask flimsy enough to be blown off at the slightest breeze.
By the time she’d finished blow-drying her hair, she’d talked herself down enough to apply her makeup without her hands shaking, making her eyes wide, lashes full, cheeks flushed.
She slipped on the same dress that Niko had remembered from two birthdays ago—dark red with a low scoop neck, tight around her waist and flowing loose around her hips.
She rode over with Dev and Olivia, quiet and preoccupied in the back seat.
The PAC had been built only a few years ago, a sprawling, rustic-meets-modern building replacing the smaller bungalow that had been around since the eighties, and the glow from its massive asymmetrical windows spilled out into the street as they pulled up.
The atrium was already packed when they walked inside, full of familiar and unfamiliar faces alike, perusing the silent auction items and snagging appetizers catered by Gwendolyn’s as a jazz trio from Silverton played softly in the background.
Olivia reached over and squeezed Merritt’s shoulders. “It looks incredible in here,” she said, beaming. “You did it.”
Merritt resisted the urge to brush off the praise, to point out how many other people had been involved in putting this together.
Obviously, Olivia knew that. So she just squeezed Olivia right back, allowing a sense of accomplishment to fill her up until she was sure she must be glowing as warm and bright as the building itself.
After visiting the bar to get drinks, the three of them slowly walked down one line of tables displaying the listings that Merritt had set up only a few hours previously.
“How is Al’s Big Basket of Hats already up to four hundred dollars?” asked Dev, eyebrows raised.
“Well, apparently the retail value is double that, so it’s still a bargain,” said Olivia, leaning closer to examine it.
“I mean, of course it says that. Al sets the prices,” Dev grumbled.
Merritt felt a hand on her shoulder, so unexpected that she jumped. She turned to see Nora, tall and lithe and knockout gorgeous as ever, smiling back at her.
It felt like Merritt had been plunged into an ice bath at the sight of her—bracing, refreshing, and a complete shock to the system.
She couldn’t stop from throwing herself directly into Nora’s arms, taking a shaky, gulping inhale of her familiar perfume and all the complicated memories that came with it.
Nora held her tightly for a long moment, enough for Merritt to know that the feeling was mutual.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Merritt said, her voice thick. Nora nodded against the side of her head.
“You, too.” As they pulled away, Nora held on to both her hands, appraising her from head to toe. “You look really good.” The way she said it, Merritt knew she wasn’t just referring to her outfit.
She’d put on at least thirty pounds since she’d gone into treatment, and she’d needed every last one of them—bones no longer protruding where they weren’t supposed to, hair and skin no longer dull and lifeless.
Even though they’d seen each other a handful of times in the interim, it was clear which image of her was still dominant in Nora’s mind.
“Mountain air and sunshine, who knew?” said Merritt with a laugh.
She looked over Nora’s shoulder, taking in the group clustered around her.
She immediately recognized Nora’s husband, Jeff, whom she’d met a few times and who was hard to miss even if she hadn’t—he was six-five, covered in tattoos, and currently holding the hand of Nora’s younger daughter, Elle.
Merritt greeted him with a smile and a wave before he pulled her in for a gruff half hug, too.
Nora directed her next words to her daughters. “Elle, Sydney—do you remember Merritt? She’s one of my oldest friends.”
“How old is she? A hundred?” asked Elle, then cackled at her own joke.
“Almost.” Merritt grinned, then looked back at Nora. “It’s been a while, it’s okay if they don’t remember. Last time I saw all of you, I don’t think Elle could talk.”
“You were in a music video together,” said Sydney, the older one, who looked about twelve, with a sassy matter-of-factness. “You were kissing.”
Merritt stifled a laugh, glancing at Nora, who had a world-weary parent-of-a-tween expression. “Where did you see that?” asked Nora, trying and failing to sound stern.
“YouTube,” said Sydney smugly, like she knew she’d caught them doing something they shouldn’t. “I looked her up when you said we were seeing her.” She directed her next question at Ethan, Nora’s ex-husband, who was standing on her other side. “Did you know about this?”
“I did,” said Ethan, who also seemed like he was trying not to laugh. “Your mom was just doing her job.”
Sydney crinkled her nose but didn’t say anything, still studying Merritt with apprehension.
Nora turned back to Merritt, lowering her voice. “She’s at the stage where she wishes we were both accountants or something. Everything we’ve ever done embarrasses her. Especially now that it’s all so easy to find.”
“Can’t say I blame her,” Merritt replied with a grin.
Her attention shifted to Ethan next. Nora was right: he did look better than she’d seen him in a long, long time.
He’d always been freakishly handsome, even greasy and waxen the morning after a bender, but now, practically glowing with health and contentment, he was almost unrecognizable from the sullen, brooding man she’d last known.
Well, he was still a little brooding.
A long-suppressed memory bubbled up as if through shifting tectonic plates: the three of them in the back seat after a night out, Merritt and Ethan screaming at each other across Nora, the kind of slurred, incoherent fight that only happened when the evening had worn out its welcome and they were too many drinks (and bumps) deep to even know what they were upset about, like babies squalling because they’d been awake too long.
Nora, stuck in the middle seat, had been silent, head leaned back, eyes shut tight.
That was the last time they’d all gone out together.
Merritt’s cheeks burned with shame. She was really, really fucking lucky that Nora still wanted her in her life. They both were.
She raised her tiny compostable cup of sparkling water at Ethan, and he did the same with his, a sardonic—but not unkind—smile of recognition curving his lips. He turned to loop an easy arm around the shoulder of the younger woman next to him.
“This is my wife, Grey,” he said. “Grey, this is Merritt.”
Just letting you know that I’m prepared to hate her, Merritt had texted when Nora had told her they’d all be coming.
Haha. not necessary, but I appreciate it, Nora had responded.
Merritt reminded herself of that as she shook the woman’s hand.
She was blond and beautiful, as Merritt could have predicted, but in a slightly offbeat way, radiating an aura of calm, reserved intelligence, not unlike Nora’s.
Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched that the two of them would get along, after all.
“Nice to meet you,” Merritt said.
“You, too,” said Grey, her voice deeper and sultrier than Merritt had expected. “I’m trying to play it very cool right now, is it working?”
Merritt laughed, already more disarmed than she wanted to be by her deadpan delivery.
“I did her braid,” Elle said proudly, and Grey turned her head to show off Elle’s handiwork in her curls as Merritt dutifully cooed over it.
She turned and introduced Dev and Olivia to everyone, exchanging an amused glance with Olivia behind Dev’s back as he shook Nora’s hand; it was obvious only to the two of them how much he was internally freaking out.
Nora quickly fell into a side conversation with Olivia, which, even though Merritt couldn’t hear, involved all four of their hands resting on Olivia’s stomach, trading earnest nods while the other one spoke.
She turned back to Dev, who was telling the others, with some reluctance, about his ghostwriting career.
Ethan’s face lit up. “You know, I’m normally not into spy thrillers, but I’ve probably read a dozen of those Jack Cobalt books. When did you start? I was just saying to Grey that I thought the last few were some of the best in the series.”
“Oh, uh, thank you,” said Dev, clearly unsure what to do with the compliment. “Yeah, I’m in copyedits for my fourth one. They’re a lot of fun, if you want to turn your brain off for a while.”
“I’m always looking for any opportunity to do that,” Ethan said, with a wry chuckle.