Page 57 of The Moment They Can Never Forgive
Nina, who had been sucking on her pink drink while swaying to the music, shot her a look. She then lowered the drink to the table beside her and grabbed Leah’s shoulders. Leaning in until her eyes were inches from Leah’s, she said, “I’m so sorry you lost Cassie.” She then hugged her close. Grabbing her shoulders again, she added, “Have you cried and grieved yet?”
“What?” The words had her stumbling back a step and out of the grip Nina had on her. “Wh-why would you ask me that?” Suddenly, it felt like there was a whooshing sound in her ears, and her knees felt weak.
“For Cassie. Have you had time to let out some of the pain and sorrow, Leah?”
She tried to force words past her lips but managed nothing.
“You haven’t, have you? I can see it in your eyes, even if mine are a bit fuzzy.” Nina leaned in close again so their faces were inches apart.
“You can’t see anything in my eyes,” Leah said, backing away. “I’m dancing.” She then threw the entire contents of the vile pink drink down her throat and gagged, but she kept it down.
Someone bumped her hard, sending Leah sideways into Zoe. Regaining her balance, she turned to find Sydney Jane’s narrowed eyes on her as she danced with Betsy Regal. Back in school, both had been trouble, especially SJ, who’d hunted men like sport even then. With time and distance, Leah had learned SJ’s bravado came from a bad childhood, just like hers. But that didn’t give her the right to come after Leah.
“Sorry,” SJ said, a mocking smile on her painted lips.
“Still rocking the same look, SJ? Good to see some things haven’t changed,” Leah said. She never backed away from confrontation.
“Why’d you come home, Leah? There’s nothing for you here,” SJ hissed.
“SJ!”
They both turned to find Phoebe standing behind them.
Hands tugged at Leah, pulling her into the crowd. She didn’t look back, instead diving back into something she’d always loved: dancing.
For a while, she even convinced herself she was happy, surrounded by those she’d grown up with and others who had shaped her when her father hadn’t. If a piece of her was still missing—a piece that had once loved this too—she could live with it. Leah always did.
“Shots!” someone shrieked, and once again they all headed to the bar.
Leah used to hold her alcohol, but she hadn’t touched a drink in months, so her head was feeling light, but she needed this. Hudson was asleep and with good people. He’d be safe until she picked him up tomorrow.
You can do this.
“I need food,” Birdie said, slumping onto a bar stool beside the one Leah’d fallen onto.
“Shisken sticks,” Zoe slurred into her sister-in-law’s face, wafting pink punch fumes over them.
Leah closed one eye and focused, her head suddenly spinning. “What is a shisken stick?”
“Awesomeness,” Zoe answered.
“Don’t you mean shisken strip?” Leah asked.
Zoe shook her head. “Dee thinks sticks sound fancier, because an English professhor passing through Lyntacky told her that’s what he’d call them.”
“This town is weird,” Leah muttered.
“I’ve only just seen that,” Cill said, looking up.
Dutifully the others did, too, and there, hanging above them, was a large inflatable phallic symbol.
“Dee had it modeled on mine,” Red said, smirking.
“It’s a penish,” Phoebe whispered.
“It is,” Leah said, steadying her as she pitched forward. “A Danish version of one by that pronunciation.”
“How come you’re not slurring?” Zoe asked her.
