Maybe none of this would’ve happened if she had, but I can’t say that to her. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”
She hangs her head. “The last thing I said to them was that they should leave partying to the grown folks who could handle it. It was such a nasty thing to say rather than find out why they were acting that way.”
“Honey, you have to let yourself off the hook. We all say stupid things and stuff we regret. This just reminds us how important it is to treasure the time we have with people.” I sound like a Hallmark card, but she’s gobbling it up. Her body slowly relaxes into the bed. She deserves the absolution she came for. I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her frail body close to mine. She’s skeletal underneath her clothes.
“That’s everything I’m going to tell Detective Locke today, but I’m sure he’s heard most of it by now anyway.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“He’s been interviewing everyone who was at Delta Tau when Sawyer got into a fight in the kitchen.”
“He has?”
She nods.
Detective Locke hasn’t shared any of this with me. We speak every day, usually multiple times a day, and my questions are the same every time. I never waver. Are there any new leads? Where are we in the investigation? Anything I can do to help get information? There’s been no mention of a party. Nothing to speak of with drinking other than the full toxicology report that we’re waiting to come back from the lab. He hasn’t said anything about the boys being somewhere else besides Dani’s that night or about other kids—college kids, for that matter—being involved.
We’re not on the same team. It’s never occurred to me that we weren’t on the same team, even when Paul hinted at it the other night. What else does Detective Locke know that he’s not telling us? More importantly, why is he hiding it?
TWENTY
LINDSEY
Wyatt and Sutton went back to school today. They’ve missed almost three weeks, so it will be good for them to get back into the routines of their daily lives. Sutton couldn’t wait to go and got insulted this morning when I put my hands over her face to shield her from any of the media that might be lining the intersection before the school. Thankfully, they were gone. Maybe they’re finally ready to leave us alone.
“But we’re famous, Mommy,” she said as she sucked in her cheeks and gave me her best pout.
I explained that the media hounding us are different from the paparazzi, and we aren’t any kind of famous that anyone ever wants to be, but it didn’t matter. Right before I dropped her off, she proudly announced that she’d selected her printed pink romper with her favorite Mary Janes in case any of the photographers managed to get into her school.
Wyatt’s a different story. He complained all last night about having to go and insisted he should be able to finish school online this year. Andrew wouldn’t hear of it, even though I was open to the idea. He thinks online education is a joke.
“Seriously, go around back. I don’t care if they said you can’t drop anyone back there,” he moaned from behind me when I was dropping him off. Normally, he would ride in the passenger seat, but he had no interest in getting his picture taken.
“Once you’re there and inside, nobody’s going to care,” I said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. He hid in the back seat the entire ride. “Mr. Williams sent an email to all the parents and kids stressing the importance of no smartphone use during school hours and absolutely no pictures.” They threatened to take away the phone of anyone caught breaking the rule. I couldn’t think of a worse punishment.
He rolled his eyes. “They always say that like it’s going to stop anything. Remember Stacey Meid?”
She’d been last year’s scandal. She’d hid her pregnancy all year and given birth after gym class in one of the showers in the locker room. One of her lacrosse teammates had helped her. They’d disappeared from school for a month, and we’d gotten the same email the day they’d returned to class, but pictures of them had been smeared all over social media within hours of their arrival. Teenage girls can be especially cruel, and they’d ripped Stacy and her friend to shreds. Neither of the girls had lasted more than a few weeks before transferring to a different school on the east side.
“This is different. They’ll respect the fact that someone died,” I said, but I didn’t believe myself any more than he did. I haven’t read anything about the case, and I won’t. I don’t need other people’s lies and fabrications swirling around in my mind, and once they’re in there, my brain grabs them and doesn’t let go. Nope. Social media warnings are wasted on me.
His face paled as the school came into sight.
“Find Reese. He’ll help you.”
Reese and Wyatt are in the same grade. They’re exactly six months apart, but they’ve never been friends. Kendra and I were thrilled to be pregnant together for a second time, since Jacob and Sawyer are only two months apart, but Reese and Wyatt never bonded like their older brothers. Reese has a hard time bonding with anyone.
Wyatt snorted. “I’m better off alone.”
I pulled into the car pool lane. A horn sounded behind me as someone grew frustrated with how long it was taking me to get over. “I don’t know why you can’t give Reese a chance. You’re always so hard on him,” I said as I stopped alongside the curb.
“Maybe if he put any kind of effort into being a regular person, I would.” He opened the door and hopped out before I could respond.
I wanted to roll the window down and tell him I loved him, that he’d be okay, but he would’ve been mortified, since people were everywhere, so I kept my mouth shut.
He wasn’t any happier when I picked him up. He said he’d only gone to first period and then had hidden in the library for the rest of the day. At least he’d gone. Hopefully, things will go better tomorrow.
I wait in our driveway as he hurries up to our front door, anxious to get inside and away from this day. He gives me a quick wave and heads in. I shoot him a text reminding him to set the alarm before pulling out and heading back to the hospital to relieve Andrew. He’ll pick Sutton up from ballet and grab dinner on the way back to the house.
Dani texted earlier and asked what time she should come today, but I haven’t responded. We’ve had zero communication since she told me Kendra couldn’t talk to Caleb because Bryan won’t allow it. We used to joke about his controlling behavior to make light of it because it embarrassed her so much, but it stopped being funny a long time ago. Thoughts of her upset me, and I don’t want her to visit. I just can’t see her. Not today. Andrew thinks I’m overreacting, but he’d say that no matter what because he hates conflict.
Kendra’s name flashes on my screen, and I quickly transfer her to my Bluetooth.
“How’d school go?” she asks when I answer.
“Lovely,” I say, and she laughs at my obvious sarcasm.
For a second, things feel normal, but it’s gone in the next second when she asks, “Any press outside the school?”
“Nope, and Sutton was really disappointed.” She doesn’t laugh this time. Maybe I’ve overstepped. It’s so hard to tell. I quickly switch gears. “The security will do a great job keeping them out. You know how they are.”
We were one of the only private schools that didn’t have security when the kids started high school at Pine Grove, and we moved freely around campus, but all that changed once we got our first celebrity kid. Easy accessibility was on the top of their list of things to change. Pictures and social media use at school were a close second.
“That’s good.” She pauses a second before continuing as I pull into the parking lot of the hospital. “I had an interesting visitor over the weekend.”
“You did?” I put the car in park. “Who?”
“Luna.”
“Luna? Why’d she come to see you?”
She waits a few beats before continuing. “She was with the boys the night Sawyer died.”
/> “Really? Are you serious?” What would Luna have been doing with them? They never hung out together. Not even when they were little.
“Yeah, the boys went to a party at the Delta Tau house, and Sawyer got really drunk. Apparently, he got into a fight with some guys in the kitchen, and they got kicked out of the party. Luna showed up right as they were leaving and helped get them home.”
I wait for her to go on, but she doesn’t. That can’t be the end of the story. “So then what happened?”
“She doesn’t know. She dropped them at the Schultzes’ and went back to the party.”
“Did you tell Dani?”
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
“No,” she says quietly. “Luna needs to trust me.”
Which means Luna’s trust is more important to her than Dani’s. Guilt tugs at my conscience even though I’m mad at Dani. I’d want to know if one of my kids were talking to them about what happened. It doesn’t feel right keeping it a secret. But maybe that’s why she’s telling me. Maybe she wants me to be the one to tell Dani.
“They were all wasted that night.”
“Are you sure? Jacob drank, but he didn’t like to get drunk.” He’s like me that way, but I don’t expect her to understand that. Kendra’s always liked to party hard. They probably got the alcohol they were drinking from her bar in the same way we used to break into her parents’ liquor cabinet when we were teenagers.
“Right.” There’s a strange tone in her voice. “Except sometimes he did.”
“What do you mean?” A knot of anxiety balls in my stomach. Static air stretches between us. Is she trying to torture me?
“I’ve found him in the bathroom throwing up before,” she finally says after what feels like an eternity has passed.
“Maybe he was sick.” He’s got a sensitive stomach. Dairy can do horrible things to him.
“He wasn’t sick. He was drunk.” She says it like there’s no mistaking it’s true.
My head swirls with possibilities. None of them good. “When did it happen?”
“Once after homecoming last year and another time after the spring formal.”
“Twice? It happened twice, and you never told me?” How could she not tell me that? I’d call her immediately if I found Sawyer drunk enough to throw up in my bathroom. In fact, I don’t think I’d do or say anything to him until I’d consulted with her about how she wanted me to handle it. That’s the adult thing to do, but she’s way more invested in being the cool mom than she is in setting limits.
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal?” I want to lunge through the phone and grab her, shake her, tell her to wake up. Grow up. But I rein myself in. It’s wrong to fight with someone when they’re at their weakest. That’s been my mantra with her these past few weeks.
“I’m sorry. He made me promise not to tell you.” I detect a hint of smugness.
Ignore it, Lindsey. She’s been through a lot.
I draw in a deep breath and roll my shoulders, trying to calm myself before speaking. “Well, what happened?”
Both nights were school formals, and I love everything about the dances. I have the best staircase for pictures, so everyone meets at my house beforehand. All of them slept over at Kendra’s afterward, and I thought nothing more of either event besides creating a reminder to add a picture of Jacob in his tuxedo to our Christmas card this year.
“The night was fine. They came in a bit earlier than I’d expected. Remember we gave them a later curfew?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Anyway, I got up at three and heard noises coming from the guest bathroom. It was obvious someone was sick, so I went in to check on him. He was hugging the toilet like it was moving and holding on for dear life,” she jokes, then giggles to ease the tension. “I sat with him for a few hours, rubbing his back and getting him to drink water. He was fine by the morning, especially after I gave him a Bloody Mary for breakfast.” She laughs again, but there’s nothing funny about it.
How could she not tell me something like that? But I already know the answer. It’s the same reason she didn’t tell Dani about Luna.
TWENTY-ONE
KENDRA
I shocked them both today. Turns out their boys’ stainless lives weren’t so clean after all. I drain what’s left in my wineglass and scan Sawyer’s room for my bottle. His room tilts and images blur in front of me.
Dani’s terror was palpable through the phone after I told her Luna had sneaked over to my house. I wasn’t going to tell her. I don’t know what changed my mind. She swears Bryan doesn’t hit her. Something about psychological abuse and gaslighting, but come on—he can silence her with a look, make her completely tongue-tied. There’s no way he doesn’t smack her around at home.
Shame on me.
Pretty sure I called Detective Locke too. Oh well. He’s a traitor.
There it is.
The auburn glass peeks out from underneath a pile of Sawyer’s flannel shirts. He had a better collection of bottles than me. It must’ve rolled. I don’t remember putting it there. I crawl over to the clothes and dig out my bottle. Screw off the top. This one is empty too.
I stand. The world spins with my movement. I steady myself against his dresser.
“Make sure you don’t drink on the pills.” That’s what the doctor said.
She was worried about this?
This is wonderful.
I’m not going downstairs for another bottle. Paul will say I’ve had enough. That’s what he’ll say. He hates seeing me like this. I don’t care.
Sawyer’s closet door is open. I make my way to the back, where he keeps his old toys. He still has his Little League mitt. He was talented enough to play soccer or baseball. I toss the mitt aside and rummage through old superhero figurines until I get to the bin of LEGO. Red lid off. Bottles inside.
Two fewer.
He’d been busy.
Is that what they drank that night?
I pull out a bottle. Château Margaux. Expensive tastes.
Mine.
Uncorked.
I take a pull.
Mine.
TWENTY-TWO
DANI
I hold the ice pack up to Luna’s split lip, and she pushes it away, cringing. “It’s too cold,” she cries out in pain. Her face is streaked with tears and blotchy red spots.
“It doesn’t matter. You have to put this on it to keep the swelling down.” Years of soccer injuries have turned me into a skilled nurse. I gently place it on the opening again. The bleeding has finally stopped. The trembling in our bodies hasn’t. My insides are jumping like there are a thousand volts of electricity shocking me. I’m doing my best not to cry. She just stopped, and she’ll start all over again if I do. I have to keep it together.
Oh my God. What am I going to do?
I apply light pressure. “Is that too much?”
She shakes her head.
Bryan has never hit me or the kids. Kendra and Lindsey don’t believe me when I tell them that, but he hasn’t. He told me once that I was too pretty to hit, and I felt flattered at the time, like I was somehow better than other abused women. He spanked the kids when they were toddlers, but that’s different. I didn’t like it and asked him to stop, but he swore he had a right to discipline his kids in whichever way he saw fit, and who was I to argue with that?
But tonight?
He slapped her. Hard.
I’ll never forget the sound of the smack when his hand connected with her face or the horror in Luna’s eyes when she realized what he’d done. For a minute, she was too stunned to speak, and then she crumpled to the floor in tears.
It started when she strutted into the house after her meeting with Kendra. Her eyes immediately met Bryan’s with a challenging glint that I’ve seen before, but she’s never come at him with it. I knew where she’d been by the look in her eyes before Bryan ever asked the question. Why couldn’t she have been like every ot
her teenager and lied when he asked if she’d gone to Kendra’s and talked to her about the accident?
“What are we going to do, Mom?” She sits on the toilet, holding the ice pack to her lip and searching my eyes for an answer. I’m her mom, and it’s my job to have answers. I’m supposed to make them up if I don’t have them, and most of motherhood feels just like that—pretending like I have a clue what I’m doing.
“I don’t know.” The words feel foreign coming out of my mouth, but tonight has stripped me down to nothing but raw honesty.
“What about Caleb? Are you going to tell him?”
I’ve never been so grateful that he barely leaves his room as I was tonight. He slept through the argument and missed the whole fight. This will break his heart. How do you shatter someone’s heart when it’s already in pieces?
“I’m not sure, honey.” I kneel beside the tub and start running her a bath. I put my wrist under the faucet, making sure it’s the temperature she likes. I can’t remember the last time she let me take care of her, but it comes at too great of a cost. I turn my head so she can’t see the tears making their way down my cheeks again. “Why don’t you take a nice long bath, and then I can lie with you until you fall asleep?”
Her back straightens with anger. “Sleep? That’s what you want to do? Put me to bed? Jesus, I’m not two.” She pushes my hand off her face and storms out of the bathroom. She stomps down the hallway into her bedroom and slams the door behind her.
I quickly grab a towel from the rack above the tub, roll it up, and tie it around my mouth like I’m about to kidnap myself, then cry as hard and as quietly as I can. Gagging into the terry cloth as I sob. I flush the toilet to muffle the sound and let out one more wail before turning off the bath and hurrying to the sink.
I turn on the faucet, refusing to meet my eyes in the mirror. None of this is supposed to be happening. I splash cold water on my face and pat my skin dry, hurriedly applying concealer underneath my eyes even though it’s after midnight. I take a deep breath and head down the hall in the opposite direction of Luna’s bedroom and into ours.
The Best of Friends Page 9
