Page 89 of The Sun and the Moon
Maybe it’s sick of me pressing snooze on the truth. Right now, I feel it like a siren scream.
The sun’s light touches everything. Your secrets aren’t safe.
But it’s too late.
Cadence releases my hand to knock on the door. I tighten my fingers into a fist. The string is still threading us together, and I don’t fear who knows it.
Moira’s laughter cuts through the thickness of the door as she approaches, her voice audible. “We aren’t getting one, you goose,” she says, I assume to Dad. I assume she’s referring to their surreptitious invitations. The handle turns. The door opens.
Her eyes land on us. Cadence first, then me.
I feel a shiver up my spine at the look on her face. Steady gaze, her brow set, her lips curling ever so slightly upward. She can cut through defenses with a look, a heat-seeking missile that never, ever misses its target.
There’s no way Dad tricked her into a single fucking thing.
“To what do we—” she begins, her tone as neutral as Switzerland.
“We need to talk to you,” Cadence says, and then her eyes shift behind Moira to where Dad sits at the small round table in their room. “Both.”
Moira’s hip cocks out, but her expression shows no waver. It gives me the distinct feeling that she knew this was coming—planned it to happen this way or, at the very least, expected it. I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea that this whole week has been orchestrated by her to play out this way, but I can’t deny there have been signs.
There are moves that feel too perfect to be coincidence.
She steps aside to let us in the room. It’s bigger than ours, with a seating area and a small dining table. The bathroom, including the mirror and vanity, are in a whole separate room with a door.Above the bed hangs a watercolor print of the Danish countryside, complete with a windmill and a herd of goats.
Dad has a deck of cards in his hand, which he doesn’t set down but shuffles robotically. He was probably practicing some sleight of hand. His eyes are on me, and I’m sure he’s picking up on the tension in my body. There’s no way he doesn’t read it on my face. I just wonder if he’s put together that the reason for it is him.
Moira shuts the door behind us and comes around in a fluid movement toward the table. A bottle of wine sits, corked but already opened.
“Is this the kind of conversation that requires liquid courage?” Moira asks, reaching for the glass before she hears our answer. Cadence takes a step forward, her hand clenched at her side. Her body is rigid.
“We know about the wedding,” Cadence says without preamble. “I saw the invitations. I saw the cake in the kitchens. I saw the gazebo in the middle of the vineyard.”
Moira’s hand flinches, causing her pour to become uneven. She doesn’t spill, and she doesn’t stop pouring until her glass is half-full, but she takes these few seconds to get her face under control. I watch it shift into a neutral catlike expression.
Dad, however, doesn’t know how to play it cool.
“I was going to tell you today, Birdie,” Dad says, standing from the table. He even abandons the cards, freeing his hands to reach out for me.
I step farther away.
“You had all week to tell me, Dad,” I say. I press my feet into the carpet, planting them. My knees are weak, and I worry my resolve isn’t as strong as it should be. “What happened today withPam, it’s not an excuse.” My voice quivers with anger or sadness, I’m not sure which.
“We wanted it to be a surprise for you.” Moira steps in. She literally comes to stand next to Dad, places her hand on his shoulder. His face has fallen into a desperate, apologetic frown, but when she makes contact I see his shoulders straighten.
“So you lied to us?” I ask.
“We…” Dad struggles.
“Fibbed.” Moira doesn’t.
It’s surprising how fast the rage bubbles up, explosive and unchecked. “Wow. You really are a fucking mastermind.” She smiles at the non-compliment. “Cadence said you were manipulative, but I kept hoping that was personal. Mom shit—not that I’d really know. My mom wasn’t like that.”
“Sydney, I understand that you’re hurt, but Moira isn’t to blame here. I was just as much a part of the decision to make this whole thing a little bait and switch. The perfect magic trick.”
“And was your scheme to get my mom to refinance her house and her business part of that little trick?” Cadence says, her voice razor-sharp.
Their attention shifts to her. Dad looks bamboozled, but Moira? She’s actuallygrinning. Gleeful. This is what she wanted, and I just can’t understand why.
