Chapter 24
Logan sat upright and stoic after his announcement, his forearms on his armrests as if he were strapped to the electric chair. Even the dog seemed shocked and gazed steadfastly at the wall as if to point out this awful business was nothing to do with her.
“Eh? What’s that?” said Stan confusedly.
“Now just seemed like as good a time as any to mention it,” said Logan.
“Oh, Logan.” Amy looked back down from the balloon. “We love her.”
When Logan had arrived today and said that Indira was at home sick, Joy had a thought, a deliriously hopeful thought: Maybe she’s feeling sick because she’s pregnant.
That cryptic look on Indira’s face the last time Joy saw her had not been the indication of a special secret announcement she was waiting for the safe twelve-week mark to make. She’d been getting ready to leave. The flower magnet Joy had so hoped was an ultrasound picture had been a farewell gift.
“I loved her too,” said Logan.
“Did she know that?” asked Amy.
“Should have put a ring on it.” Troy shook his head in mock exasperation.
“Says you,” said Logan.
“I’ve been married.”
“You haven’t stayed married.”
Brooke opened her mouth as if to say something and then briefly closed her eyes.
“Have you got a migraine coming on, Brooke?” asked Joy. A cramping sensation hit her lower abdomen again. She suppressed a groan. “You mustn’t drive home if you do. You must never drive when you’re suffering a migraine.”
“I’ll drive her home,” offered Savannah.
“I don’t have a migraine!” snapped Brooke. “We’ve talked enough about migraines today.”
Joy didn’t believe her. She really didn’t look well. “If you do, maybe you should stay here. Grant won’t be much use to you if he’s sick.”
“GrantandIhavebrokenuptoo.” Brooke spoke so rapidly it took Joy a moment to separate out the words.
“I beg your pardon?”
Brooke exhaled, and her shoulders sagged. “It’s a relief to say it.” She looked at her father. “Sorry to ruin Father’s Day.” She looked at Logan. “Although Logan started it.”
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” said Stan with deep sadness. He patted Brooke on the shoulder before slumping back in his chair. “These things happen.”
Joy said, “You mean you’re getting a divorce?”
“It’s just a trial separation for now, but…” Brooke squinted as if at a sudden brig
ht light. “It looks that way.”
Joy should have realized this was more than a migraine. The poor girl looked exhausted, pale and haggard, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was just so lank.
Troy put his arm around his sister.
“How long?” he asked.
“We’ve been separated for six weeks.”
“Six weeks?” Joy didn’t mean it to sound like an admonishment, but how could Brooke have been separated for six weeks without saying a single word about it to her parents?