But we can't leave.
The parade has to go on.
"We should go," I say, grabbing Holden's hand and reaching for Kane. I only manage to grip onto his big bulky jacket. "The rig is moving on."
They both turn to see Harris has passed us by. Kane is still clutching his charity bucket. Karter's shoulders are rising and falling with agitation.
Summer moves closer to Blake, and I start to wonder whether she's changing her mind about pursuing Holden. Would she seriously consider dating Blake after all of this? Probably. The thought makes my stomach roil.
"Let's go," I urge and start walking, praying that they'll follow. For a moment, they stand motionless, engaged in a staring contest with their father, while disappointment, hurt, and anger bubble between them all. Just like with my father, I wish things could be better, but I really can't see it changing.
I keep glancing back, and my heart flips with relief when they start moving. Kane's gray eyes meet mine, and he smiles. It's pained and apologetic, and I want to throw my arms around him and tell him that I don't care what his dad says about me. All I care about is that my boys are okay.
Seeing their hearts hurt is like a physical wound to me.
If we thought our relationship would remain mostly private, we were mistaken.
Now it's out for the whole town to see, and all I can wonder is what will happen next.
25
On my lunch break, I'm standing in line for a coffee and sandwich in Roasted, which has now become my favorite place to be outside of my home with the Banbury Boys. The Summer situation means I won’t sit here to eat but I’m damned if I’m going to miss out on a take-away.
When my phone rings, I draw it out of my purse, seeing that it's my sister.
"Carmella!" I'm surprised that she's calling me in the middle of the day. She's usually working too hard and takes her professionalism way too seriously to deal with personal matters during working hours.
"Connie, hi!"
She sounds breathless and like she's smiling. Also strange.
"What's happened?"
Her laugh is high and rippling and maybe a little unnatural. "I'm engaged!" she squeals.
"Oh my God. What?"
"To Derek. You know, he's the son of dad's friend Powel."
"Derek. But I thought you guys had only been dating for a few months."
"It's been eight months."
Has it really been that long? I met Derek once, and he seemed great, but I thought Carmella was dating him to pass the time. I was not expecting her to commit her life to him. "Eight months…wow. Congratulations!"
"Thanks. I think. You do mean it, right?"
The uncertainty in her voice surprises me. Carmella usually seems confident about everything she does. "Of course. I'm so happy that you're happy," I say.
Carmella clears her throat. "You know, I went to your apartment last night to share my good news. I thought it would be nice to do it face to face."
"My apartment?" I don't think Carmella ever visited my apartment while I was living there, and she chooses now to make an appearance.
"Yeah, but it isn't your apartment anymore, is it? Then I called your office this morning, and they said that you don't work there anymore either."
"My office?"
"Where are you, Connie? How have you moved to a new house and gotten a new job, and I don't know anything about it?"
I don't know why she's seeing it as a surprise. We've never been close. There has always been too much tension between us brought about by Dad's toxic parenting. I've always felt as though Carmella disapproved of my decisions and was disappointed by my lack of drive and success. It's not easy being the younger sister, always living in the shadow cast by an older, better version of yourself.
"I moved three months ago," I tell her. "And quit my job at the same time."
"Are you crazy?" she says. "You had a position with an awesome company, and you'd been there for ages. They owed you a promotion."
"They might have owed me a promotion, but they were never going to pay up."
"And your apartment was in a great building."
"It was tiny and cost a fortune," I say. "And I wasn't happy."
"Happy?" Carmella says the word as though it's a strange concept, or at least a feeling she wouldn't make decisions to achieve. "So, where the hell are you? It's not safe for you not to tell your family where you are. Haven't you watched those true crime shows? Sometimes people disappear, and they're never seen again, and their families don't have the first clue about where to look for them."
"I've moved." I'm stalling for time, but I don't think I'm going to get away without telling her everything. If I don't tell her, she'll call Natalie, and that will put my bestie in an awkward position. She'll have to promise not to tell Dad, though.