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“Sorry, I couldn’t reach it,” I lied. I’d lost count, but this had to be her eighth call checking on me since I’d left Boston.
“You know, Kevin is such a great guy. I don’t think he deserves this.”
She had no idea what a monster Kevin was, or how bad our relationship was, and that was my fault. I’d hidden my mistake from her, and from everybody else. I’d talked up my situation so often that she thought I lived a fairy-tale life with him—a coping mechanism my friend Debbie had admitted she used as well.
“Not again, Grace.”
When I’d told her I wanted to come down, she thought I was getting away for a while and pulling a stunt to make him want me more when I went back.
“Well, I still think it’s a mistake. You shouldn’t make him wait long. Tell him where you are, and I bet he sends you flowers tomorrow.” She sighed, and her tone shifted. “How much longer will you be? We have to leave for the airport.”
I’d hoped for some overlap, but her trip had already been planned, and my departure date had been set by the completion of the Cleveland project.
“I’m hurrying, but I’m stuck behind an accident.”
“Where exactly? I have to leave.”
I inched the car forward. “I’m not far.”
“You better be quick. This is my first vacation in, like, forever. St. Thomas here I come,” she singsonged. “Sun, sand, and surf.”
She’d told me the hotel she managed had been sold, and her new boss was paying for this trip for her. She sounded as happy to get away from Clear Lake as I was to get away from Kevin.
“For a whole month,” she added.
“You told me two weeks,” I said, trying to limit my voice to up only one octave.
“Well, Dirk wanted to change it, and so we did.”
“You should have told me.” If she had, I wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place. I figured I could stay hidden for two weeks, but four?
“We were so excited, I guess I forgot.”
Thanks for nothing.There was no turning back now, and already by pristine escape plan had hit a snag.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Why don’t you get going and leave the keys under the doormat for me?”
“I can’t do that. I don’t have a doormat.” My stepsister could be way too literal. “And I have to run you through how to feed the kids.”
“I’ll be there soon. Write instructions for me. I’ll call if I have trouble with them. Promise. And put the key under the flowerpot.”
Wasn’t that where everyone put the spare key?
“I don’t have a flowerpot outside.”
I blew out a breath. “Then pick a spot.”
“I’ll put the key under the rock.”
I’d count that as a major success. My stepsister didn’t make decisions easily. “Good idea.”
“Oh, and my friend Callie called to say you should meet her at The Peanut Barrel when you get in.”
“What’s that?”
“The bar.”
I sighed.Thebar, notabar. Of course, her tiny, one-horse town would have only one bar. We’d grown up one town over in Peterville, but it had at least four bars that I remembered. “I’m tired.”
