Page 89 of Until Summer Ends

“That’s close enough,” Eli says as he steps between us.

My father’s nose crinkles. He doesn’t even remember Eli. Ironic, considering he was always my whole world.

“This is embarrassing for everyone,” Eli says in a low voice, close enough to my father that people around can’t hear. “Get out of here.”

My father doesn’t answer. There’s no fighting, not even cursing, but the tension is so palpable that everyone feels it, Zoe included. And the second I hear her cry for her daddy, I snap. The can of maple syrup I was still holding falls to the ground, sticky liquid exploding at my feet. Then, I do what I’m the best at.

I run.

The driveway to Mom’s house is empty. The only silver lining in this situation. She still has time to leave before he gets to her.

I don’t bother knocking, this time. I barge in, my pulse sky-high. “Mom?” I shout.Please, let me be the first one to tell her.

“Cassie?” she says in a voice much lower as she slowly peeks out of the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, thank God.” I rush to her.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

I don’t want to imagine what I look like. Frazzled, breathless, teary. But coming here couldn’t wait.

“It’s…”

My gaze catches on a pack of Marlboro on the console beside the door. Mom doesn’t smoke.

No.

I want to be wrong, but the moment I start looking, I notice it all. The dining table chair that hasn’t been pushed back, in the way for Mom. The dirty pair of socks lying in front of the couch. Theempty bottle of beer besides the bedazzled lamp Ruth had gotten Mom for her birthday one year.

Mom’s shoulders slump.

“Heassaulteda girl. Does that mean nothing to you?” I shake my head, then cry, “What will it take?”

“Cassie—”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” I avoid her reaching hand and walk back outside. “I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

I’m halfway to my car when she calls out behind me, “Do you think I like this?”

I turn.

“Do you think when I was your age, this was the life I wanted for myself?” She’s leaning on her cane, and despite it all, I feel bad for having made her walk so fast with her arthritis.

“Not everything is as simple as you think it is,” she says, sounding defeated. “He owns this house. We have thirty-three years of marriage.”

I know she has a point. Iknowit’s not easy. But this has gone on too long. Now, it just feels like more excuses.

And I’ve heard enough.

“Whatever you say, Mom.”

Chapter 35

Eleven Years Ago

The lady isn’t expecting anyone tonight.

Her friends left half an hour ago after their weekly crochet club that included a lot of snacking and very little crochet. She took the time to clean the kitchen before getting into her pajamas and washing her face, but before she can slip into bed, a knock comes at the door.

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