Page 16 of The Moment They Can Never Forgive
“Being a kid isn’t an easy gig. I get that, Ally. All this be my friend and not his sh… stuff messes with you. It was no different for me. I didn’t get an invite to Jack Ray’s birthday, and Jay did. I was pissed.”
“I love Uncle Jay, and I’m glad he’s back in Lyntacky for good now,” his niece said, hoping to distract him from their current conversation.
“He’s the best, and yeah, me too.”
“What did you do to Jack Ray, Uncle Dan?”
“It doesn’t matter what I did?—”
“Something bad, right?” his niece continued. “Because you, Dad, and the others did bad stuff all the time, but I’m not allowed to.” She had her arms folded now.
“Do as we say, kiddo, not as we do. The point here is, if you’re okay with what you did, you wouldn’t be feeling bad, but you are. So what are you going to do about it?” Dan said.
“I shouldn’t have said that because Bobby is my friend.” She looked ready to puke. “I knew it was wrong when I was doing it.”
“Peer pressure is hard, but I thought you didn’t care about that kind of thing. What changed, Ally?”
She sighed again, like her mortgage payment was due and she was already working two jobs.
“I don’t usually, but they’re having a band, and it’s at night with lights and stuff. Plus, Mabel’s got lots of money, so we get all the good food,” Ally said defensively.
“Because you’re hungry and you don’t get treats?”
“I didn’t say that, Uncle Dan.” She sighed.
“Because I know different. You’re the most spoiled older kid in this family.”
“The others are too young to understand someone can spoil them,” she protested.
“No matter how hard your daddy tried to tell us not to give you things when you were little, we still did—and still do it, when he’s not looking.”
“I feel bad,” she said finally, all the fight gone. “I don’t know what to do.”
Dan started the car moving again and turned into the Beckers’ driveway. “Yes, you do.”
“But I want to go.”
He pulled the car up alongside the open window Klaus Becker was leaning out of and had been since Dan was a teenager. The coffee shack, as some in town called it, was painted with flowers, as was the house not far away.
“Got a question for you, Mr. Becker,” Dan said.
“Klaus will do. Hi, Ally.”
“Hi, Mr. Becker.”
“I’ll make your order while I ponder this question. Coffee and a hot chocolate coming up.”
“I’ve finally reached the age to call you Klaus. I feel like I’ve just been given the keys to the city.”
Klaus smiled.
“What’ve you got in there to eat today?” Dan asked.
“Apple strudel muffins. Best in town, but don’t tell your brother I said that.”
Dan mimed zipping his lips, then turned to his niece, who had her arms folded with a belligerent expression on her face, which her father and stepmother said seemed permanent these days.
“You want a muffin?”
