Her grandmother was of the mind that this tall, dark Yankee from the North wasn’t good enough for her fragile Southern rose. And she never let an opportunity pass without letting Mason Bodine know exactly what she thought of him.
As it turned out, Blue’s grandmother was sadly mistaken. Blue’s mother, Lila, was more than a match for Mason Bodine. Both of them were self-centered, narcissistic, and, at times childish human beings who had no business having babies of their own. Had they ever known the damage they’d done? No, she thought bitterly. People like her parents never owned up to their mistakes, and the memories they created would never go away. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block them out, but it was no use.
* * *
The cicadas were loud—their call sharp and sweet at the same time—and the air was heavy with the late-evening fragrance of summer. Purple wisteria climbed along the trellis that bordered the Bodine backyard, along with roses, moonflower, and the low-lying gardenia bushes in the corner. The summer before, Mason Bodine had spent a small fortune installing an in-ground pool along with a lovely patio made of flagstone—shaded by a pergola, of course—and an outdoor kitchen any chef would drool over. It didn’t matter that neither Mason nor Lila cooked all that well or even enjoyed spending time creating culinary masterpieces. What mattered was the impression it gave anyone lucky enough to snag an invite to the Bodine backyard.
On this particular afternoon, the Bodines had the place to themselves. Lila was stretched out on a lounge chair, her long, trim legs shown to perfection, her skimpy bathing suit showing more than it hid. Some would think it was a play to get attention from her husband, when in fact it was more or less Lila’s vanity and her love of self. The woman liked nothing more than to admire all the gifts her genetics had given her.
Gifts that had been passed along to her daughter. Already the young girl was a beauty, with her Nordic blonde hair, stunning eyes, and a rosebud mouth. Lila loved the attention Blue created, because that attention reflected positively on herself. But on this afternoon, there was no company. No one to primp and preen for. What did she care how adorable her offspring was if there was no one there to see it?
As Blue happily splashed in the pool, her four-year-old body rambunctious with more energy than she knew what to do with, her mother read a magazine while occasionally staring down at her perfectly pedicured toes and admiring her calf, sculpted to perfection from years of dance. Her father was on the telephone, deep in conversation with someone who mattered more than his family, and her brother, Cash, was covered in shadows, playing war with his toy figures in the far recesses of the yard.
Blue wore two floaties on her arms, white with pink flamingos, but one of them started to lose air. She was in the deep end of the pool and started to panic because it was harder for her to keep her head above water. Her voice was impossibly soft, and at first, no one noticed her peril. Mason Bodine was still wrapped up in his conversation as he prowled the edges of the patio, and her mother was too wrapped up in herself.
Blue went under several times, her arms flailing, her little legs kicking. She screamed as loudly as she could, and finally, Lila Bodine looked over. Blue locked eyes with her mother, by then hoarse and unable to utter a word. She willed her terror to be felt. Lila turned from Blue and yelled across the way.
“Mason, grab that annoying child. I can’t relax with all that fuss.”
But Mason didn’t bother to investigate. His body was turned away, and he motioned wildly with one arm as he growled into his phone.
“Mason!”
Knowing his wife wouldn’t stop shouting—God forbid she actually do something—he glanced over and covered the speaker. “Shut that kid up. This is an important call, and I can’t hear shit.”
By this time, Blue was losing strength. She gulped for air, terrified of going under again. Then she stopped moving. She had no more strength left. As the water closed over her head, she caught sight of her parents arguing instead of helping her, and the pain inside expanded until it threatened to weigh her down so badly, she knew she wouldn’t break the surface again.
Her vision blurred. Her chest felt as if it were going to explode.
And then two arms wrapped around her and hauled her out of the pool. Coughing up water and struggling to breathe, she clung to her brother, shaking, crying hysterically. Cash hugged her and told her she was okay. He got her out, and she didn’t have to be scared anymore. Cash was seven.
Neither Mason or Lila noticed.
* * *
Blue shook her head and sighed. Her parents had been a volatile combination of impossibly good looks (so they were used to getting what they wanted, no matter the cost) and huge egos (being wrong was a state of mind they didn’t tolerate), with the ability to avoid consequence to action at any cost. Some days, Blue wondered how in hell she made it out with her own humanity intact.
Some days, she wondered if she ever had. There was always a black cloud, it seemed, and today was no different.
Her mother had left a nasty voicemail first thing this morning. It had been Lila’s birthday the day before, and Blue hadn’t called to wish her a happy birthday. In Blue’s defense, she’d been busy, out with a property agent looking at buildings for a project she was considering—a project sparked by none other than little Tawny. It didn’t matter that Lila never called Blue when it was her birthday. That would be the whole narcissistic thing. It had set the tone for the day, and nothing seemed to go right.
Things had gotten worse when, after work, she’d rushed home to shower and change for her date with Cam and Tawny, only to find Edward Barnes waiting for her.
“Where the hell have you been?” he barked, pushing off from his car and rounding hers before she could let herself out. It was always a pissing contest with the man, and he loved to lean over her—his attempt to make her feel small and insignificant. The whole bad-mood thing? It exploded into something else entirely, and she pushed against her door, making him stumble back and nearly trip.
She was done taking crap.
Except that Edward was taller. Stronger. And he was definitely much angrier.
“Tony Palitto called me today,” he said, taking a step forward. Blue saw the veins bulging in his neck and the way his eyes glittered. Somewhere deep inside her, alarms bells began to clang, and she clutched at her purse.
“He said you’re looking at commercial space.” Edward leered at her. “For a fucking dance studio? Are you kidding me?”
So that’s what this was about. She glared at the man.
“I’m not sure why or how this isn’t getting through to you, Edward. What I do with my time and money isn’t any of your concern.”
“Everything you do is my concern, because everything you do affects me.”