Begin Again (Again #1)(50)

On the other hand, I wanted to kill my mother.

But she was nowhere to be seen.

Dad plopped down on the white leather sofa and looked at me expectantly. I collapsed in the armchair next to him, taking a moment to collect myself.

Nothing had changed here. The luxurious decor seemed much more decadent to me now, compared to Woodshill or even Rachel’s home in Portland.

Dad picked up a carafe of water from the table.

“Want some?” he asked. I nodded.

Calmer now, I felt how dry my throat was. I pulled my legs up under me on the chair, then took the full glass and put it to my lips, gulping down the cool water.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. If Dad found my haircut or lack of manners surprising, he didn’t let on.

“You know her. Probably getting ready for tomorrow night,” Dad answered.

Which meant she was at the beauty salon or meeting friends for coffee. Good for her. Because if she were to come through the double-winged door right now, there was no telling what I’d do.

“So you only came because you thought I was on my deathbed?” asked my father, taking a sip of water and putting the glass back down on the table.

“Mom cried on the phone,” I said, avoiding his question.

Dad raised both eyebrows. “She’d do anything to get you to the gala.”

I just snorted in response. To be honest, there was nothing to say. “But your leg is okay, right?” I finally asked.

“It’s good to know that my daughter cares about me and comes right away if she thinks something happened to me,” he said with a pinched smile.

“Don’t be that way, Dad. Of course I care, and you know it,” I shot back.

“Really?” he asked, leaning back.

I sighed. Now he was making a dig about my having left home. “Wanting to be on my own doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Even if it might be better to care a bit less. Less pain that way.

Dad’s expression didn’t soften. “It would have been nice if you’d gotten in touch once in a while. Voluntarily,” he added, when he saw my mouth open.

“And what about you? Have you forgotten how to use a telephone?” I counted to five before speaking again in a more forgiving tone. “Anyway, what’s the use of calling if all I hear is accusations about making the wrong decision for my career? You and Mom were never okay with my moving. Hearing that over and over again doesn’t help.”

“Of course, I wanted you to do something sensible with your life, Crystal,” he said, and I winced.

By now I was used to being called Allie, and it was strange to hear this other name—one that didn’t fit me anymore. Like this house. His words stung me. That’s how it always was when he talked down to me. As if his way were the only right way, the only way to get ahead in life.

Trying to keep my cool, I hadn’t yet formed an answer when I heard the front door open. Mom’s high heels clacked across the marble floor. Then she appeared in the doorway.

As always, everything about her was perfect, from hairstyle to pedicure. Her perfection was broken only for a fraction of a second, when her fake smile wavered at the sight of me sitting next to Dad.

“Crystal!” She pretended to be surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”

Now I lost my composure and jumped up. “But you were sure I’d come.”

She sighed. “Of course I was hoping you would. But I’m not going to spoil my evening just because your childish pride keeps you away on Thanksgiving.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Dad, who was just picking up his cell phone from the table. Then he stood, nodded apologetically and disappeared into his study. I uttered a joyless laugh. Wasn’t it always like this? Mom and I would fight, Dad would disappear. He avoided any quarrel that did not directly involve him, and as a businessman he always had a ready excuse.

“I can’t believe you outright lied to me,” I hissed, addressing my mother. Actually, I didn’t want her to notice how furious she made me. That would only get her going. “Why’d you do it?”

Mom’s frozen smile grew even wider. “I want nothing more than to spend Thanksgiving with my daughter. Is that too much to ask?”

The nerve!

“You don’t think I’d go to your fucking gala now, do you?”

Mom gasped. “Don’t you dare speak to me like you grew up in the gutter, Crystal. This is beneath your dignity. It’s not how you were raised.”

I snorted. “Beneath my dignity … ” I murmured. “You’re out of your mind if you think that your plan worked, Mom.” I noticed with some satisfaction how she backed away from me. “I’m only here because you hooked me with a nasty trick. Not because I want to play happy family with you on Thanksgiving and dance around in front of your friends like a doll. The only thing I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving is that I don’t have to live here anymore.”

These were my last words. I ran into the foyer, grabbed my bag, and left, slamming the door behind me, hoping it made the walls shake.





Chapter 20


The Bellverton was the most expensive hotel I knew, and I booked the most luxurious room available. Mom would probably never notice the money missing from her account, but it still felt good to put the credit card into the reader. A friendly porter brought me upstairs, and I thanked him with a nod and an oversized tip. Throwing Mom’s money out the window was my way of getting revenge for what she’d done to me today. And I wanted to enjoy that to the hilt.