Page 54 of The Sun and the Moon
“I thought Scorpios were steel vaults with secrets.”
Cadence is fighting back the cutest smile ever. That crescent-moon dimple is in danger of popping right out and making me want to kiss it. “Her chatty Sagittarius rising isn’t.”
We both take sips of our wine as we chuckle.
“Pam has always had a soft spot for me,” I say, and my stomach flips for a way less fun reason than wanting to tangle my fingers in Cadence’s hair.
Greg and Pam were my parents’ closest friends. Their son, Luke, and I were besties, too—until we hooked up senior year and, no surprise, I wanted it to stay no-strings-attached. But in the year before Mom passed, when Dad was still flying and we didn’t yet know how truly awful things were about to get, Pam was kind of a rock for me and Mom. And, of course, her swimming pool and the fact that she always had Hot Pockets in the freezer didn’t hurt, either.
“Good. Then, what do you think about a divide-and-conquer strategy?” Cadence asks with a teeny waggle of her brows. I grin.
“Excellent, Ranger Girl,” I say, extending my glass for her to cheers.
We walk in the direction of the rest of the party. Everyone has full to semifull glasses of wine, which means everyone is likely about to disperse to explore the grounds. I have to get in with Pam and get her walking off on her own.
Moira, Greg, and Dad stand in a group with another couple I don’t recognize, who must be friends of Moira’s. The woman from that couple and Moira are currently having an aside, while the man and Greg have become absorbed in one of Dad’s newest tricks. He’s been trying to master different sleight of hand illusions using cards, and recently he’s focused on a trick called the Four Appearing Aces.
They are engrossed, or at least actively humoring him.
Pam is only halfway engaged. Her other half is heavily invested in her wineglass.
I approach, waving to get her attention and flashing her a smile.
“I haven’t had a chance to say hi,” I say, opening my arms for a hug before I even reach her. She brightens as I approach, letting me wrap her in a light embrace.
Pam is your classic LA suburbanite. A little frumpy but still trying to stay hip since she lives near a city obsessed with youth. Her recent switch to shoulder-length braids makes her look fresh.
“Wanna walk around the vineyard and gossip?” I say in a low, conspiratorial tone that makes her chuckle. I extend her the crook of my arm.
“You know the answer to spending time with you is alwaysyes,” Pam replies, taking my arm.
We set off down a winding walkway that spills us out into the vineyard. The sun is just starting to edge toward the hills, so the light is slightly less harsh than it was when we first arrived. I know I can’t broach the subject of the texts Cadence saw between Dad and Greg, not outright, so my armpits are sweating and not because it’s hot. I wore a bodycon gray t-shirt dress, steel-toed Alexander McQueen booties, and a loose-fitting denim jacket because it’s actually quite a cool afternoon.
No, the sweat is my pits’ reaction to my brain telling my mouth it has to be reserved. Lie if need be. I’m here for answers, and I won’t get them with blurting. But Icannudge her about what she thinks of Moira. Maybe if I let my skepticism show, she’ll be more inclined to spill some beans.
“It’s really beautiful here,” Pam says, eyes misty as she looks out on the horizon.
“It’s great that Moira knows the owners so well. Probably got them a discount on the party,” I say, taking a ginger sip of wine. Pam’s lips tighten ever so slightly.
“She seems to have a way with people, doesn’t she?” To someone who doesn’t know Pam, she’d sound neutral. Admiring even. But I can read between the lines, and what I’m getting from her is far more emotional.
“I have to confess,” I say, pausing just so. She cuts her eyes over, ready for my tea. “I was really thrown by the engagement invitation. I hadn’t even had a chance to meet her because of my schedule.”
“It didn’t surprise me in the least,” Pam replies as we take a turn at the end of this row of grapevines, walking along a path that leads us toward the barrel room, where the engagement party will be held.
“Really? It’s not like Dad to move that fast,” I say, letting the hurt bleed through in my voice. Because it does really hurt that he made this massive decision without coming to me first. Maybe it’s childish, but I feel like that wholeus against the worldthing should apply to him, too.
“Oh no, I agree with you there, Sydney. I just mean it’s not a surprise that it happened lightning-quick—not to me, anyway. Not after I saw the two of them together,” she says, and actually,what the fuck?Her voice sounds all dreamy and soft. There’s no way she actually thinks Moira is good for my dad.
I fight the urge to throw a fit. I am a grown-ass adult woman with a career and a 401(k) and a whole apartment and rent. (Okay, I split those last two with my best friend, but rent in LA is high.)
“When did you see them together?”Pam and Greg met Moira before me?
“Last month, right before they got engaged. Greg had some things…” She struggles a bit over the word and I take notice. “To chat with Rick about, so we stopped by his place and wound up splitting a bottle of wine with the two of them. Played cards.”
“And you left that impromptu meeting feeling good about her and Dad?” I am stuck on this. It’s kind of derailing my fact-finding mission. She and Greg met them a month ago! Dad didn’t tell me it was serious! He didn’t tell me they’d gotten engaged!
What else isn’t he telling me? Even if Moira isn’t conning him, the fact that he kept this from me makes me feel confused and angry—I just don’t know exactly who to direct that anger at.
