Everyone … everyone heard her, and the room broke out into laughter. The whole room was high on food, buzzed from a long week, and drunk on wine.
I was ten shades of red, pitting out, and unable to breathe as Kael stayed right behind me where I couldn’t gauge his reaction.
“If Mrs. Smith needs a private trainer, I can check my schedule.”
More laughter. A few really embarrassing whistles. And Mrs. Smith dying. Seriously … I was dying.
I used to be the Queen of Snappy Comebacks, but I had nothing except fire in my cheeks, sweat pooling between my cleavage, and a dry mouth.
“Kidding.” He rested a hand on my shoulder for several seconds before his presence behind me vanished and I could breathe again—but just barely.
My hand gripped Amie’s arm. “You are dead to me.”
She snorted, wiping her mouth before reaching for my wine since he did, in fact, cut her off. “Our teacher likes you. Oh my god … does he ever.”
Way too much wine for her. And I thought chiropractors were a little more health oriented than four glasses of wine on a Friday. I stood, grabbing my purse and hers, slinging both over my shoulder. “It’s past our bedtime. Thank you, everyone, for accommodating us tonight.”
“Our bedtime? Are we sleeping together now?” Amie stood on weak legs and looped her arm around mine. “I knew we would be lovers someday.”
Giggles ensued as I dragged her toward the door.
“Thanks for coming, ladies. Kira is out there if you want to make any purchases before you leave. Everything purchased tonight is twenty-five percent off.” Kael had the nerve to make a last-minute sales pitch as I struggled to get my drunk BFF out the door.
Classic …Chapter SixI hated the way he couldn’t make one freaking decision by himself. I’m not saying his mama failed him, but … yeah, she failed him.* * *Epperly got its first snow of the season in early November, and it was a big one.
Ten inches.
Like everyone else, I anticipated a dusting but woke to plows on the streets and my driveway covered. After Craig died, Finn made sure he was up and running the snowblower early in the morning. His natural instinct to step up and be the man of the house brought me to tears. He took off a semester of school to grieve and be with me and Bella. But he was no longer at home for the man-of-the-house call of duty.
“I’ll never get out.” I frowned, peering out the window as I sipped my lemon water.
Bella slid her eggs onto her plate. “You have four-wheel drive. You’ll get out. But I’ll help shovel the driveway.”
I shook my head. “No. I’ll do it. I need to figure out the snowblower since Finn is not here this winter.”
“Have you used the snowblower before?”
“No. Hence the figure it out. Your dad didn’t like—” I stopped myself. It wasn’t that I was getting ready to say anything that I wouldn’t have said in front of her when Craig was alive, but it suddenly felt disrespectful to say anything negative about him in front of our children—especially since she and Finn knew the truth.
“Say it.”
I shook my head.
“Jeez, Mom … just say it. I didn’t think Dad was perfect. I hated the way he always rolled his eyes when I wore something sexy or too much makeup. I hated the way he acted like I was going to be this irresponsible teenager getting pregnant and ruining my life. I hated the way he couldn’t make one freaking decision by himself. I’m not saying his mama failed him, but … yeah, she failed him.” She sighed. “Too soon?”
I snorted, shaking my head slowly. She had no idea I initiated major venting in my grief group. “His mama? That’s your grandma.”
Her serious face cracked, revealing a smile. “I know. But it’s the truth.”
My eyes narrowed as I sat opposite of her at the kitchen table. “Did you hear me say that?” I couldn’t remember saying it, at least not in front of her. But I thought it. Oh boy, did I ever think it.
“No, Mom. I have my own superpower of observation. Everything was ‘ask your mom.’ And he asked you what he should have for a late-night snack. He’d ask you if he should shave his mustache or grow out his beard. He’d buy three pairs of shoes and wear each pair around the house for a week before making a final decision and taking the other two back. And even then, he’d ask all of us, a million times, which pair we liked best.”
I laughed. She was right. Very observant.
Craig liked to be the man of the house—in theory. Basically, he liked to have the appearance of being the man of the house. Consequently, I never used the lawn mower or snowblower. Except I did mow his parents’ yard, and sometimes I shoveled their driveway if his dad was having knee issues. But at our house, appearance meant everything. Craig hated the idea of the neighbors seeing me instead of him doing the “manly” chores around the house.