The Last of the Moon Girls(59)

They were all looking at her now—Andrew, Evvie, Rhanna—waiting for her to say something that would ease the tension. They’d be waiting a long time. “Leave them right there,” she told Andrew grudgingly. “Near the door. I’ve got the supper to finish.” And with that, she turned and walked away, praying that no one followed her.

In the kitchen, she took a gulp of her now-tepid wine, then picked up her knife. She needed time to absorb this new development, and figure out what happened next. She had more than enough on her plate. She didn’t need a drama queen with a predilection for meltdowns added to the mix. And that’s precisely what she’d get if Rhanna was allowed to hang around any length of time.

While generations of Moon girls had grown up knowing the risks of making waves, Rhanna had honed the subtle art of not giving a damn, of poking a finger in the eye of convention, creating a scene, saying the unthinkable. Like the time she’d been suspended for reading tarot cards in the school talent show and predicting that her PE teacher would be discovered rolling a joint in the janitor’s supply closet. Or the time she’d painted a peace sign with a middle finger in the center, on the wall of the First Presbyterian rectory. Recklessness and rebellion. Those were Rhanna’s superpowers. And now she’d brought them back to Salem Creek.

One night, Lizzy reminded herself as she downed another sip of wine. That was all she’d promised. And what then? By the look of things, Rhanna didn’t have two nickels to rub together. She had no job, and certainly no friends in Salem Creek. Which left . . . what?

The thought was interrupted by another smack of the mudroom door. She hoped it was Andrew leaving. Instead, she spotted Evvie through the kitchen window, heading toward the garden with a basket over her arm. Apparently, Lizzy wasn’t the only one who needed a little alone time.

As if on cue, Rhanna wandered into the kitchen, trailing her fingers along the counter like a bored child in search of distraction. “Andrew’s gone out to the garden with . . . Evvie, is it?”

“Yes,” Lizzy answered tersely. “Her name is Evvie.”

Rhanna was up on her toes now, craning her neck for a better view of the garden. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes. Andrew, I mean. Not Evvie. He was still at UNH when I left, but he turned out real nice.”

Lizzy stopped chopping and turned to stare.

“What?” Rhanna pouted, all innocence. “I’m old, not dead.”

Lizzy opened her mouth, then closed it again, and resumed her chopping.

“So what’s the deal with her?” Rhanna asked, filching a bit of green pepper from the cutting board and popping it into her mouth. “Why’s she living here?”

“The deal,” Lizzy said dryly, “is that she was Althea’s friend. She was with her till the end.” She paused, looking up at Rhanna. “She’s like us.”

Rhanna’s brows lifted. “By like us, you mean . . .”

“Yes,” Lizzy answered pointedly. “I mean like us.”

“Wow.” The corners of Rhanna’s mouth turned down thoughtfully. “There’s something you don’t hear every day.” She reached for the glass of chardonnay on the counter, but Lizzy checked her, sliding the glass just out of reach. Rhanna sighed. “Is this how it’s going to be? You treating me like I’m some unwanted guest who just turned up on your doorstep?”

“Isn’t that what you are?”

“This is my home, Lizzy. I grew up here—just like you.”

Lizzy stared down at her glass, twirling the stem between her fingers. “You grew up nothing like me.”

“Lizzy . . .” Rhanna’s eyes were soft, pleading.

Lizzy sidestepped her. “Let’s not do this, okay?”

But Rhanna seemed determined to have her say. “What I did, when you were a baby, giving you to Althea—I know it seems horrible. But I also know I was right. I wasn’t . . . equipped. I was selfish and thoughtless, and so screwed-up. That’s why I did it, Lizzy. Not because I didn’t care—because I did. I was afraid . . .” She closed her eyes, her slender shoulders sagging. “I was afraid I’d hurt you.”

“Right,” Lizzy shot back before swallowing the last of her wine. “You certainly wouldn’t have wanted that.”

They were still glowering at each other when Andrew reappeared. Lizzy turned, eyeing him frostily. “You’re still here.”

“Evvie asked me to bring you this.” He handed her a trug of freshly picked lettuce. “She said she’d be in shortly to do the salad. Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you to set a fourth place for supper. She asked me to stay.”

Lizzy eyed the basket, then Andrew, wondering how she’d managed to lose complete control of the situation. “Terrific.”

“I carried your mother’s things up. I didn’t know which room she’d be in, so I left them at the top of the stairs.” He paused, leaning in, dropping his voice. “I need to talk to you.”

There were things she needed to say to him too, but now wasn’t the time. She jerked her chin toward the counter, littered with chopped vegetables. “I’m a little busy just now. It seems I’m giving a dinner party, and I need to go kill the fatted calf.”

Andrew let the prodigal-daughter reference pass. “After supper then. It’s important.”