Page 27 of The Right Woman

It’s no big deal, Piper. You can do this. No matter what the answer is, you can handle it.

My mouth gets dry as I reach for the stick laying on the back of the sink. I close my eyes for only a moment, lifting the test up to face my future.

Negative.

“Oh, thank fuck!” With a resounding hoot, I leap and punch the air in a victory dance. “No babies!”

Freckles startles as I snatch my coat from the chair and say, “I live to fuck another day, Frecklepuss.”

On the way to my mother’s, my beater of a car rattles and groans, giving me another hint that it’s on its last days. It’s never sounded so loud before and the steering feels a bit off, as well.I guess that’s what I get for being in the house for two days and not driving it anywhere.

Squeals and shudders emanate from the engine when I finally stop in the driveway of Cora Hendrick’s brick colonial. I don’t call it the house I was raised in because my parents never did any raising. I hate the place, and I haven’t set foot in my old bedroom since I moved out. The place where everything happened.

Since the last time I was over, there are more shudders hanging on tilt and peeling paint clinging to the porch. My mother owns a spa and salon, and even though she pretends it’s doing so well in her ads plastered on the bus stops, I know she’s barely making ends meet. Hence, another reason she hates my father, whom she feels owes her for cheating on her repeatedly.

Perfumed air assaults my nose when I enter and head to the kitchen in the back, where my sister and mother are talking over mugs of tea at the kitchen island.

“Finally. You’re late,” my sister says with an eye roll. She dressed as casually as I’ve seen her, in jeans and her pink ONE T-shirt with her hair in a slick ponytail. She wears her shoes in the house, and I don’t know why, but it really bothers me.

Sliding onto the barstool next to her, I grab a mug and pour myself a cup as my mother eyes me scrupulously. “Piper…please dye your hair back to your beautiful blonde.Please? Do it for me?”

I try to think of anything to change the topic, anything so they don’t focus on how I look. The newspaper catches my eye with its headline article about Rainy Day’s grand re-opening. “Any word about that woman who died? Sean’s stepmom?”

My mother’s green eyes lock with my sister’s and the two exchange a meaningfullookthat I don’t understand. It’s like they’re careful to talk because I’m too young and dumb to know stuff.

“Sean hated her. He doesn’t even consider her astepmom, you know?”

With a snorting laugh, my mother spits out, “That’s because she was cheating, the little hooker.”

“Cheating? Who was she cheating with?” The vision at the table that morning comes back to me. My father was there first with his co-worker. Employee? It seemed innocent enough, but they were talking pretty in depth to each other.

A dramatic sigh is the answer my sister gives as my mother snaps, “Your father, of course.”

Tilting my head, I try to reserve the irritation in my voice. “You always think he was cheating with everyone.”

My sister sips the last of her drink and smiles around the rim of the mug. “Maybe she got what she deserved.”

I scoff. “Are you serious? You think the woman deserved to die because she may have been having an affair with someone?”

“Oh, you don’t believe me, Piper? I’m not the one who tells lies around here,” my mother says pointedly.

Maeve chimes in with a shake of her head. “For real. So dramatic.”

Vitriol, rage, and hate bubble in my stomach. “Fuck you. Fuck you both. Ineverlied.”

The stool rattles to the floor as I push away from the island, then sprint up the stairs to my old room. With a scream, I throw open the door. I can’t even see straight. The blood pounding through my arteries causes momentary blurs before my eyes. I grab the standing mirror and toss it with a primal roar. Rip the curtains from the windows. Pick up my dancing figurines and launch them against the wall one at a time as they shatter into a trillion pieces.

Then, I face the bed.

I lunge on top of it and kick and punch and cry until I’m worn out, heaving sobs crashing through my tight chest. But Islither to the floor, taking every piece of fabric with me, trying to shred it with my hands. Instead, I end up in a blubbering mess and wipe away the dripping tears on my cheeks with the horrific memories of my youth.

My mother and sister watch me with terror on their faces from the door. “How dare you! Clean this mess up!”

“Piper, what did you do?”

Maeve acts shocked, but I brush past them as my mother yells, “Do you need to go back to the hospital?”

My sister mumbles, “She may hurt herself again.”

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