Page 58 of As a Last Resort
I fought back a smile.
“And look, she’s holding that little loaf of bread,” she went on.“No way she doesn’t get ambushed by all of the ducks once they realize she’s got it.Have you ever fed ducks?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“They’re ruthless.They cometoyou when you have bread, right?Isn’t that the whole point of feeding ducks?She’d be eaten alive in two seconds.The males can get very aggressive.”
“I didn’t realize you were such a waterfowl expert,” I teased.“But I think there’s just one tiny flaw with your whole duck theory.”
“Try me.”She leaned back like her argument was completely foolproof.
I grinned.“I’m pretty sure they’re swans.”
She blinked, turning to the screen, then back at me.
“Well, most of them are swans… and maybe a few geese.But most of them aren’t ducks.Not, like,duckducks.”
The realization slowly crept over her face and it was priceless.I tried my absolute best to just sit and not move but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.I burst out laughing and couldn’t stop.I couldn’t catch my breath.When I glanced over, she had her face buried in the pillow, laughing just as hard.
When she lifted her head, something in her had shifted.The heaviness she’d been carrying from the night—and from her mom—seemed to lift, if only for a brief few seconds.
Sitting there, her face lit up with laughter.She was so radiant, it almost hurt to look away.I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so reluctant to tear my eyes from something.
19
SAMANTHA
Austin was already gone when I woke up.My side still hurt from last night.He had me in stitches.After half an hour of deep dive googling ducks versus swans inThe Notebook, we eventually passed out on the couch foot to foot withSerendipityplaying in the background.A horribly embarrassing night turned into one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.
There were two piping hot lattes on the kitchen counter.How he snuck them in without waking me up is a feat of magic.I’m the lightest sleeper known to humankind.
I looked around for the first time as I sat at the little kitchen bar counter with my coffee.The counter was perfectly spotless and wiped down.A fresh vase of flowers sat on the windowsill.Not a single dirty dish in the sink.One clean coffee mug sat by the single cup coffee maker.A cheery yellow and white striped Williams Sonoma dish towel draped over the sink edge.Perfectly put together and tied up, the way it’s always seemed.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in.”A raspy voice pierced the air from behind me followed by the flop of her slippers.
I took a really deep breath and bit my tongue.“Good morning, Mom.How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful, actually.To what do I owe this special morning visit?”
Was there really a possibility she didn’t remember the night before?From the time we left Mr.Johnson’s house to the time Austin laid her in bed, she was completely and totally passed out.She never woke up.In all the chaos (and unintended distractions) of the night, it didn’t dawn on me she could have no recollection of the evening.
Well.This should be fun.
“The house looks nice.”
“It looks exactly the same as when you lived here.Is this for me?”She held up the latte.
“It is.Compliments of Austin Marcs, actually.”She turned her back to me.“Need some ibuprofen to go with it?”
She completely ignored my question and turned on the faucet.“Well, that was nice of him.”
I raised my voice over the stream of water.“I saw Mr.Johnson last night.”
No response.
“Did you hear what I said?I saw Mr.Johnson.”
“Oh yeah?”she called over her shoulder.
