The Deal(35)

There’s another long pause. “Is that what you really want? Because if it is, then we’ll welcome you home with open arms, you know that, sweetie. But if you’re not one hundred percent comfortable with it, then I want you to stay at Briar.”

Comfortable? I’m not sure it’s possible for me to ever feel comfortable in Ransom again. I was a pariah before I left, and the one time I came back to visit, my father landed in jail for assault. So no, going back is about as appealing as cutting off my arm and feeding it to wolves.

My silence, however brief, is all the answer my mother needs. “You’re not coming back,” she says sternly. “Your dad and I would love to see you on Thanksgiving, but I’m not putting my own happiness ahead of yours, Hannah.” Her voice cracks. “It’s bad enough that we’re still living in this godforsaken town. There’s no reason for you to ever step foot here again.”

Yeah, no reason for me to do that at all. Except for my parents. You know, the people who raised me, who love me unconditionally, who stood by me through the most horrific experience of my life.

And who are now stuck in a place where everyone despises them…because of me.

God, I want them to be free of that town. I feel so guilty that I was able to leave, and worse, that I left them behind. They’re planning on moving the first chance they get, but the real estate market has been on a downswing, and with the second mortgage they took in order to pay our legal fees, they’ll go bankrupt if they try to sell the house now. And although the renovations my dad is doing will boost the house’s value, they’re also taking money out of his pocket in the meantime.

I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing like hell that circumstances were different. “I’ll send you the money I’ve got saved up,” I whisper. “You can put it toward the mortgage.”

The fact that she doesn’t object tells me they’re in an even worse position than they’ve been letting on.

“And if I win the showcase scholarship,” I add, “I’ll be able to pay my residence and meal fees for next year, so you and Dad won’t have to worry about it.” I know that will help them out even more, because the full scholarship I got from Briar only covers my tuition. My folks have been taking care of the other expenses.

“Hannah, I don’t want you worrying about money. Your dad and I will be okay, I promise. Once we finish the updates on the house, we’ll be in a much better position to list it. In the meantime, I want you to enjoy college, sweetie. Stop worrying about us, and start focusing on you.” Her tone becomes playful. “Are there any new boyfriends I should know about?”

I smile to myself. “Nope.”

“Oh come on, there has to be someone you’re interested in.”

My cheeks heat up as I think about Justin. “Well. There is. I mean, we’re not dating or anything, but I wouldn’t be against it. If he was interested.”

Mom laughs. “Then ask him out.”

Why does everyone think that’s so easy for me to do?

“Yeah, maybe. You know me, I like to take things slow.” Or rather, not at all. I haven’t gone on a single date since Devon and I broke up last year.

I quickly change the subject. “Tell me about that new manager you were bitching about in your last email. It sounds like he’s driving you nuts.”

We chat about Mom’s cashier job for a while, though it hurts like hell to hear about it. She used to be an elementary school teacher, but she’d been let go after my scandal, and the bastards in the school system had even found a loophole that made it possible for them to pay her the shittiest severance possible. Which had gone straight to my family’s mountain of debt—and had barely made a dent in it.

Mom tells me about my dad’s new obsession with building model planes, regales me with the antics of our dog, and bores me with details of the vegetable garden she’s planting in the spring. Noticeably absent from the conversation is any mention of friends or dinners in town or the community events all small towns are known for. Because like me, my parents are also the town pariahs.

Unlike me, they didn’t race out of Indiana like their asses were on fire.

In my defense, I had desperately needed a fresh start.

I just wish they were able to get one, too.

By the time we hang up, I’m caught between overwhelming joy and profound sorrow. I love talking to my mother, but knowing I won’t see her and Dad on Thanksgiving makes me want to cry.