True Places(62)

Suzanne held her breath. A crack had opened in the veneer that separated her from her own most honest self. She blinked back tears and reached for Mia’s hand.

“Thing was, they were mine. They were all mine.”

Suzanne said, “Tell me.”

Mia straightened her shoulders and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You know how I joke about my father.”

Suzanne nodded. “Cy the Cyborg.” She couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

“Exactly. I joke about him. I joke about everything.” Her face became grim. “My father’s not funny. I didn’t realize until Zane, but they are the same, Suzanne. The same.”

Suzanne tried to picture Mia’s father, details about him. Nothing specific emerged, only a persistent feeling of unease in his presence, which she’d always ignored.

“Zane got it from me, through me. I should’ve seen. I should’ve known and not have been blindsided. And now Alex is suffering because I couldn’t figure out what to do. I’ve ruined both my sons.”

Mia’s distress was so vivid and unexpected, Suzanne faltered. “You haven’t.”

“Haven’t I?” Mia wiped her eyes with her napkin. “Isn’t this what you’ve been saying? We agonize over every decision, every damn detail, and we still get it wrong. We lose them, Suzanne. No matter what, we ruin them and we lose them.”

Suzanne went to her friend and held her. She knew she should make an effort to dissuade Mia, but she couldn’t think of what to say.





CHAPTER 27

Reid carried the last of the card tables to the storage room and hiked up the slope to the Birdwood Grill to meet his grandfather, as he had promised. He wasn’t looking forward to it. He had nothing in common with Anson Royce and had already wasted an entire day helping out with a golf fund-raiser. At least the cause was legit—an Alzheimer’s foundation. But he didn’t understand why all these people had to go to the trouble of organizing a golf scramble, chewing up the time of club personnel and volunteers, when they could have simply written a check. Like they couldn’t let go of their money without having an event to draw attention to how generous they were.

He rounded the clubhouse and made his way to the restaurant patio. His grandfather sat at a large table with several other members. Reid had helped draw up the teams and recognized two of the women as part of Anson’s foursome. Reid didn’t know the others, but why would he? He wasn’t exactly a regular at the club.

Anson spotted him and waved him over. “Have a seat. Everyone, this is my grandson, Reid.”

Reid dragged a chair over from another table, shook hands with the man nearest to him, and nodded to the others.

Anson handed Reid a menu and signaled to a waiter. “Take a look, but the burger’s what you want.”

Reid ordered French fries and a lemonade.

Soon after the food arrived, two men dressed in tennis gear approached the group. Reid recognized the older guy as his father’s new business partner, Robert Shipstead, who had been over to their house a couple of times. The younger guy had to be his son, given their identical Brooks Brothers, don’t-touch-my-hair look. They had tennis shoes on at the moment, but Reid would bet a limb they wore their Sperrys without socks.

Anson introduced Robert and his son (“Robby”—what else?) to each person at the table, unlike the blanket introduction Reid had been honored with. Robert moved around the table for a prime spot next to Anson, but Robby, to Reid’s surprise, pulled up a seat next to him.

Robby eyed his plate. “Mind if I snag a few fries? I’m starved.”

Reid nudged his plate toward him. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Bro? Reid had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Truth was, the rate at which Robby the Bro was wolfing down his fries wasn’t funny at all.

The waiter came over and asked Robby if he wanted anything.

“Nah.” He finished off the last of the fries and licked the salt off his fingers. “I’m good.”

Reid couldn’t wait to leave but needed a ride from his grandfather, or his dad, who was playing tennis. No choice but to hang here.

Robby leaned back in his chair and fished his phone out of his pocket. “Want to see something?”

Reid shrugged.

Robby’s thumbs worked the screen until he found what he was looking for. He tipped the phone so Reid could see.

“Check out this piece.”

A girl, naked except for a white bra and matching underwear, was sprawled on a bed. She had very long legs. Her face wasn’t visible, but some of her straight blonde hair was hanging over one shoulder.

Reid wasn’t sure how the bro expected him to respond. He went with the most innocuous thought that popped into his head.

“Is that your girlfriend?”

“Nah. Just a haul from Tinder. Hey, want to come to a party Saturday?” He tapped Reid on the shoulder with a loose fist. “You should totally come.”

“Where is it?” He had no interest in going but couldn’t see how to get out of talking with this guy.

“Near campus. On Wertland.”

Reid nodded. Everyone knew the party street. He drained his lemonade and scanned the patio for the waiter, thinking he’d order another one, and maybe some more fries. His dad might be a while.