Page 6 of The Wish List
She released Ash and tried to tamp down the urge to wipe her palm on her sweatshirt.
“May has three daughters,” he said. “I’ve met Beth, of course.”
“I’m Trinity,” she told him.
He nodded. “The one who lives out West. Your mom talks about you.”
Another shock. May wasn’t known to talk about anyone but herself, and Trinity couldn’t imagine what her mom even knew of her life. The truth certainly wouldn’t sit well.
“Thank you,” she said, gesturing to the broken wine bottle. “I appreciate it.”
“Let me know if there’s anything you need while you’re in town. We’re just next door.”
“The Amermans don’t live there anymore?”
Emotion flashed in his dark eyes and then was gone before she could decide what might have put it there.
“They do. Well, Helena does. Chuck passed away a few years back. They’re my in-laws.”
Trinity tugged at her hair again. The hot police chief was Stacy Amerman’s husband. They’d been friends back in high school, although Stacy had been more popular than Trinity. Another car sped by, and she smiled as Asher shook his head slightly.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she told him. “I bet Beth has everything under control.”
He stepped toward the road so Trinity could pass in front of him. It was an inherently gentlemanly thing to do. By the look on his face, Asher Davis didn’t even register the minor consideration.
Trinity did, and the gesture helped her make up her mind that she would keep her distance from Magnolia’s police chief this holiday season and beyond. The last thing she needed was the reminder that there were good men in the world when she only seemed to pick the bad.
CHAPTER THREE
FREYACARLYLESATin the quiet, private room at the rehabilitation facility. She watched over her mother, who slept peacefully in the twin bed, chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm.
Although Freya had been back in her hometown for the better part of a week, she hadn’t grown accustomed to her mother being still. In all of Freya’s childhood memories, May was a whirlwind of energy and spontaneity, fun and chaos.
The fun had come to an abrupt halt once May had published her runaway bestseller on rediscovering the wild woman within after divorce.
She’d become the poster single mom for rebirth and renewal after heartbreak, somehow making her singular brand of narcissism seem desirable. Something to strive for according to a generation of discontented divorcees and unhappy homemakers. May had been the original proponent of self-care, long before it became a buzzword.
Freya hadn’t realized it consciously as a child, but her mother cared for herself at the expense of her three daughters’ emotional well-being. They were a millstone around her neck, weighing her down.
Beth had taken on the role of the responsible one, and it still chafed how much she’d relished bossing around Freya and Trinity. With her sunny disposition and natural peacemaker tendencies, Trin had only noticed when Freya pointed it out. Freya had never liked anyone telling her what to do and certainly not her older sister.
She hadn’t rebelled in the obvious ways with drinking or drug experimentation, although as an adult, she’d made plenty of lousy choices in men. As a teenager, Freya had acted out in a way that would hurt her mother the most.
She’d become an amateur beauty queen, relying on her looks and charm to slide through school and part-time jobs. She’d even managed to wrangle herself a spot at the University of North Carolina journalism school, more due to the promise of her potential than any actual broadcast talent.
May had suddenly approved because her middle daughter was making something of herself. Freya couldn’t have that, so she’d dropped out of college after a semester.
That had been close to the straw that broke her mother’s back, and they’d basically cut off all communication other than a perfunctory call on Christmas each year. It suited Freya and her lifestyle. She’d never relinquished the desire to disappoint her mom.
May had about suffered a coronary when Freya took a role on a reality dating show. For her mother, who was “a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” type of feminist, it had been the actual last straw. Which meant, of course, that Freya had built her entire career—such as it was—on a variety of reality show appearances with the occasional stint as arm candy for a not-so-famous or failing Hollywood star.
When Beth had called to tell Freya about their mother’s stroke, it shamed Freya to admit she’d almost wanted to ignore the summons home.
Her sister, Magnolia’s answer to Florence Nightingale, could certainly handle May’s recovery on her own.
Yet Freya had come when Beth called. At the end of the day, she had been conditioned to do what her sister said.
Plus, she cared about her mother, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Even if she was afraid that being home would expose her to judgment from both Beth and her mom. So far, Beth had been quiet about anything except May’s recovery and the fact that their mom wasn’t herself.
