Until Friday Night (The Field Party #1)(54)

Today was a big day for me. Today I would stop hiding. I’d make real relationships with my family. I was excited about that. But I was also scared. Afraid of what they’d ask me. Terrified they’d want me to speak of that day. I didn’t want to describe that day again. Ever.

Having West beside me while I told them would help, and it would explain a lot about my relationship with him that I knew they didn’t understand. But I needed them to be clear that I wouldn’t talk about that day to them or anyone else. I never wanted to mention my father again. If they wanted to talk about my mother and fond memories of her, I could do that. I wanted that now.

I was ready for that now.

Brady was sitting at the table, his hair sticking up in random places, wearing only a pair of plaid pajama pants while he ate a bowl of cereal and drank a cup of coffee. The newspaper was open to the sports section, and he was reading it intently.

Aunt Coralee was standing at the bar in the kitchen, writing down a list. It was for groceries. I knew that list. She did it every Saturday. She looked up at me when I entered, and beamed a bright, cheery smile.

“Good morning. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t cook any breakfast. We’re out of most everything. I’m going to run to the store this afternoon and get what we need. But for now you’ll have to make due with cereal or toast. I think we have some fresh fruit, too.”

I was good with a bowl of cereal. It was what I’d lived off of during my two years with Jorie. She hadn’t cooked at all. But she’d also rarely been home. I’d lived alone for the most part.

Brady glanced up at me then went back to reading his paper and eating.

I walked over to Aunt Coralee and laid down the note I’d written about talking to them today. I figured walking down here and announcing we needed to discuss the fact I was talking again would be too much of a surprise. I also wouldn’t get a chance to tell them what I was willing to talk about and what I wasn’t.

I didn’t want to go to a counselor, therapist, shrink— whatever you call them. I’d been to ten of those. None of them had helped me at all. I wasn’t going back, and they needed to know that.

Aunt Coralee read the note then looked up at me with a concerned frown. “Sure, sweetheart. We can talk now if you like,” she said.

Brady jerked his head up and looked back at us. “Talk about what?” he asked.

“Maggie wants to talk to all of us about something,” she said, glancing at him for a moment before looking back at me. “Here, you can use my pen.” She handed me her pen.

I shook my head. Then I pointed to the part in the note that said all three of them.

Her frown deepened. “Okay. Yes. Well, let me go get your uncle Boone. He’s outside, cutting grass.”

She patted my arm and hurried for the door. She wasn’t going to give me much time to get West here. I didn’t try texting him in case he was asleep. I called instead.

He answered on the first ring.

She’s Just Like Her Momma

CHAPTER 40

WEST

Maggie was waiting outside on the porch swing when I pulled up. She’d called me just as I was getting out of the shower. Somehow I’d made it here in ten minutes. My hair had still been wet and I hadn’t been able to find any underwear, but I’d made it.

She stood up from the swing and walked over to the top of the steps. “Hey,” I said, pressing a kiss to her lips. “You ready to do this?”

I could see the anxiety in her eyes when she nodded. I slipped my hand over hers. This time I would be the one holding her up. She’d make it through this. I wouldn’t let go.

“They’re waiting. Brady heard me call you, so he explained that I was waiting on you and I wanted you in on this conversation. But I think I’ve worried them. Brady knows, but Aunt Coralee and Uncle Boone look really concerned.”

I tilted my head toward the door. “Let’s go do this, then. I’ll be right there the whole time.”

She gave me a relieved smile, and my heart thudded against my chest. She made me feel things I’d never felt before. Things I wanted more of. Things I didn’t want to live without.

I followed her inside and, sure enough, all three Higgenses were sitting in the living room, waiting. Brady was the only one who was relaxed and looked bored. His parents were on the edges of their seats. There was a note pad and a pencil on the table in front of Coralee. I wondered if she’d brought that for this discussion.

Maggie walked to stand in front of them all, and I squeezed her hand. She could do this. I’d make sure she could.

“I want to talk again,” she said in a soft voice that startled both her aunt and uncle. I’d never seen Boone’s eyes get so wide.

“I want to be a part of this family. I’m ready for that. But I need you to understand something,” she said to them, then glanced at me. Her hand was still tucked inside mine, and I nodded to reassure her. “I don’t want to talk about . . . that day. I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to talk to a therapist. I do want to talk about my mom. Good memories. I like thinking about her, and I’ve talked about her with West a lot. He listens, but I’d like to share memories with other people who knew her and loved her. But the rest . . . I can’t. I stopped talking to protect myself. From me and from everyone else. It’s how I survived.” She stopped and waited.