Page 4 of Darlin'

"That was uh—" I swallow, putting on a smile. Screw it. I'm sure there's some kind of exception for these sorts of things. "That was Beau."

CHAPTER 2

Hell or High Water

Under normal circumstances,I avoid fibbing, not because I'm morally against lying at all costs but simply because my memory reflects that of a goldfish. But some lies are necessary. Justifiable even. As long as I don't fall entirelythroughthe rabbit hole, what's the harm in squatting inside for a little while, right?

"He's in California, apparently," I continue, keeping my voice level. Momma's like a bloodhound when it comes to deceit. "Can you believe it?"

I'm really counting on her believing it. Perhaps if she and daddy think Beau called to make amends, they'd assist me in bringing him home. Three years is too long to go without my best friend. Beau was like the sunshine to my rain, always bringing light and laughter. I've had to make do without him. I managed fine for a couple of years, but recently it feels like I've been living in the dark.

I want my little night light back.

"California..." The color drains from Momma's face as she nods slowly. "Oh." She clears her throat, patting herchest. "Well, that's nice," she says casually, as if I just told her my lunch order. She turns on her heel, straightening out her shoulders. "Let's go inside. We're late."

"That's nice?" I expected a frosty reception, but this? "That's all you've got to say?" I know she's hurt that he left without saying goodbye, but this is her own flesh and blood. How can she dismiss his reappearance so easily? "Aren't you relieved, momma? He's alive. Yoursonis alive."

"Well, he better be," she says, hustling toward our house. "I can't imagine that the dead can make phone calls." She glances over at me. "Hurry up, Savannah, we can't leave daddy waiting."

"Why aren't you happier, momma?" I ask, following her to the front door. It's getting darker by the second. "You'd think after three years of living in the unknown, you'd be over the moon finally hearing from him."

My mother's expression hardens as she glares at me. "Your brotherabandonedthis family, Savannah; I do not feel strongly towardstrangers."

"Strangers? He's still your son.” A foul taste coats my tongue. "Just because?—"

"Enough now," she hisses as our housekeeper opens the front door for us. Momma shoves her purse into Lucy's hands, storming through the foyer as I speed walk behind her. "I want no mention of this at dinner, you hear? Your daddy's under enough stress as it is."

"How is telling daddy that his only son is alive and well addingstress?" I ask in utter disbelief. "If anything, it should ease that big ole head of his."

"I saidenough." Momma comes to an abrupt halt,spinning around. I swallow as she marches up to me, waving that index finger of hers. "I understand what you must be feeling right now, but your daddy and I have come to terms with the fact Beauregard is no longer a part of this family. Ifyouwish to maintain a relationship with your brother, that isyourprerogative, but as far asthisfamily is concerned, Beau made up his mind on the eve of his graduation."

"He wasseventeen, momma," I argue, crossing my arms defensively. "You can hardly hold his actions against him. He was just a kid. Probably felt a littlesuffocatedby your vice grip and all."

"Suffocated?" Momma huffs. "Your daddy and I dideverythingfor that boy. Everything! Don't you dare stand there and tell me that his leaving hadanythingto do with my parenting style!"

"Oh, Godforbidany of the responsibility falls on you, huh?" I scoff. "I think you and daddy ought to change your campaign slogan fromhigheraccountability tonoaccountability. That'd be more accurate."

"Why you little—" Momma winds up her hand but freezes as Daddy's voice echoes in the grand entrance.

"Caroline, Savannah, you're home," he says, and my mother spins around, morphing into an entirely different person. She runs into his open arms, kissing his cheek. The woman should've gone into theatre. Academy Award-worthy performance, yet again. Daddy laughs, smiling. "Well, I've missed you too, pumpkin." He looks over Momma's shoulder, giving me a careful once over. "What's wrong, Savvy? Why so glum?"

"She's just worried about the pageant," Momma lies,looping her arm through Daddy's as she guides him toward the dining room. "I told her that Jeffery wasn't available, so I think she's in one of thosemoodsagain."

"Oh, who cares? She doesn't need that hack anyway," Daddy says, glancing back at me with a cheesy grin. "Savvy could win with her eyes closed and a potato sack as a dress, isn't that right, baby?"

"Sure," I mumble, dragging my feet as I bite my tongue. "Whatever."

"Savannah." Momma sighs as we reach the dining room. Daddy pulls out her chair and she sits down, placing a cloth napkin on her lap. "Your daddy's only here for the night, alright? Let's try our best to enjoy the next few hours, hmm? You can go and sulk in your room later."

I roll my eyes, smashing my purse on the table as I aggressively pull out my own chair and plop the half-drank latte on the table. Anger stews in my belly as I sit down and glare at the Queen of Bullshit. It's wild that she can flip on and off so easily. I wish I had that gene.

"Don't slouch," Momma whispers as Lucy and Rick emerge from the kitchen, platters of food in their hands. Rick serves my parents piping hot plates of chicken cordon bleu as Lucy places a garden salad with one, two, three, four,fiveprawns on top. "This looks delicious, thank you."

"Yeah," I mutter, picking up my fork and tossing the salad around. I stab a cherry tomato with a little too much force before popping it in my mouth. "Simplyscrumptious."

"So, how were the massages?" Daddy asks, holdingout his glass. Lucy pours him some whiskey. "Are you feeling rejuvenated?"

"Of course, I feel fantastic." Momma smiles, taking a tiny bite of creamy chicken. My own mouth waters and I look away. "We might have to start booking weekly appointments."

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