The Neighbor's Secret(74)

“I would like your honest input on how we proceed in the short term.” Nan’s voice was gentle as it pinned her to the wall. “Do you think Abe has plans to hurt his friend?”





CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR



As soon as the Perleys got home from graduation, Mike grabbed Laurel’s shoulders and steered her to the couch in the den.

“Wait right here,” he said.

“Aren’t we supposed to go up to Lena’s?”

“Dad has a surprise first,” Annie said. “A good one.”

They hovered over Laurel, watched as she slid off the silver wrapping paper, creaked open the velvet box, and looked up at them uncertainly.

“What’s this?”

“A family heirloom,” Mike said. He sat next to her on the couch. “It was your great-great-grandfather’s and he passed it down to his oldest son, and so on and so on. Grandma and Grandpa wanted to give it to you in person so badly, but they told us we could. That’s Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of children.”

“And sailors and brewers,” Annie said with a laugh, but Laurel didn’t even crack a smile.

“As far as heirlooms go, it’s a little underwhelming I guess,” Mike said, his voice tinged with hurt. “But generations of Perleys believe it’s good luck. It’s been through three wars and everyone who wore it came back alive, so … put it on and we can send a photo to Grandma and Grandpa.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Laurel snapped shut the velvet jewelry box. “Don’t give it to me.”

“Why not?” Hank said.

“I’m not a Perley,” Laurel said. “You are, Hank, but I’m something else.”

Annie felt the room tilt to the left.

“What do you mean something else?” Hank said.

“Mike’s not my dad,” Laurel said. She looked at Annie, who felt a rushing in her ears. “Tell him.”

“He is,” Hank said. “Yes he is your dad.” He looked from Mike to Annie. Back to Mike. His voice rose with a squeak. “Right?”

“He’s your dad,” Laurel corrected. “My father’s name was Bryce Neary and I’ll never meet him because he’s dead.” Her laugh was sharp. “We’re all supposed to forget about him, apparently.”

Across the room Mike’s face had drained of color. When his eyes met Annie’s, she felt a pinprick of pain drill through the shock.

“Say something,” Laurel said. Her hands rose in frustration. “I’m right. Say I’m right.”

“No,” Annie said. Her voice came out high, strangled. “Not exactly.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE



Lena stood inside the party tent, next to Hilde the event planner.

Around them was the symphony of preparation. Caterers placed down balloon centerpieces. On the southern edge of the lawn, two men rolled the luxury porta-potties down a ramp from a truck bed. By the cottonwood tree, DJ Lightning set up his booth.

“You did a wonderful job,” Lena said.

Hilde allowed a brisk nod. With red-apple cheeks and short ponytail, she reminded Lena of the captain of a field hockey team.

But Lena didn’t know if she’d even played field hockey, or whether she was single or attached, gay or straight, a dog or cat owner. Over the past few weeks, Hilde had been a pleasant efficient hum in the background of Lena’s life, not a new paid best friend.

This felt like progress.

“The caterers will start warming things at five,” Hilde said. She checked her watch, which made Lena check hers, too. The Perleys were running late.

“I need to change,” Lena said.

“Go,” Hilde said. “I’ll talk party pacing with DJ Lightning.”

Lena was on the stairs when Rachel called. She picked up, started speaking immediately. “Rachel, I was thinking about what you said and—”

“I remember Annie.” Rachel spoke in a rush.

“I know, and I want to apologize for what I said about your father. I understand how complicated—”

“I remember her.”

Lena suppressed a sigh. There’s a difference between grief and guilt, Rachel, and you have to let it go. I wasn’t a perfect parent, but you have to let it go.

“Okay,” Lena said soothingly. “I can hear that you’re upset.”

“You’re not listening.” Rachel’s yell exploded through the phone. “She was at our party. I noticed her at the bar, and then later I was getting extra napkins and I saw her sneaking up the back stairway. She looked different then, she had this really long hair, and this short low-cut dress. She looked like, well, she looked like she was going to—”

“She looked like she was going to what?” Lena’s throat tightened around a hard lump.

“Please don’t make me say it,” Rachel said.





CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX



The problem was that Abe didn’t see the problem with his video game. He was proud.

“Dr. Shapiro thinks it’s okay,” he said.

His laptop was open in front of them on the kitchen table, frozen on that last horrific screen. Jen reached out to shut it.