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Aurelie nodded, her smile still there, still effervescent, but with some of the luminosity diminished.

“Okay,” Paige said. “Rum is now mandatory. C’mon. I want you to meet my folks.”

Paige and Aury walked down the hallway hand in hand, Aurelie gabbing about the small seats on American planes, the “horrendous” airplane food and prices, nothing too serious like her mother’s passing or Paige’s cancer. They had time to sift through all that.

So much time, apparently.

They got to the hall with her dad’s room, Paige laughing so hard tears streamed down her cheeks about an anecdote involving Aurelie, a very cute flight attendant, and some smuggled wine, when Paige came to a halt.

Julia’s mom, Betsy, stood in the room with her mom and dad and none of them looked at all happy to be there.

“Give me a sec, is that okay?”

Aurelie only nodded and nudged her friend forward.

Paige walked in, the small hairs on her arms standing straight up.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Julia’s mom put her hand up towards Paige, a manicured finger raised, but didn’t look at her.

Paige’s heart pounded against her chest, her cheeks flushed, but not at all in the way they did when she thought of Owen. No, this was rage. Its humble beginnings would turn hostile if she didn’t check herself. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to trick her body back to peace.

Paige’s mom walked over to her, put her arm next to her daughter’s so they touched. It had the right effect and Paige calmed.

“You have no right to accuse my daughter of anything. If we’re being honest, I am not sure why she’s still with Bradley. She’s been supporting his dream of being a writer for long enough now, don’t you think? Isn’t it time he got a real job? Started taking care of her?”

Marge’s hand squeezed the flesh above Paige’s elbow, a silent gesture pleading for Paige to be quiet, not say what was on her mind. Paige bit her lip. The apple definitely didn’t fall too far from the self-obsessed tree in that family. Marge never would have let Paige or Brad get away with talking to someone the way Julia and her mother did.

“I think they are adults, and should probably be left alone to decide what’s best for them as a couple.”

Amen.

“Hmph,” Julia’s mom spat. “Says the woman who all but accused my daughter of running around on your son.”

Paige took two steps forward, breaking her mom’s grasp on her bicep. She’d had enough.

“Did my mom mention that it’s because I saw your daughter leaving a hotel and restaurant with Chris? Hand in hand? Her head on his shoulder? That she kissed him? I’d say that pretty much sums everything up, wouldn’t you say?” Marge cleared her throat, but Paige ignored it. She wasn’t remotely close to being done. “And now that we’re on the subject of Julia’s ‘support’ of my brother,” she added, air quotes to emphasize her point, “did you know she’s only been working part time at a damn bed and bath store? That Brad still bought her a new car with the money he’s been saving from his job as afull-time teacher for the past five years? Instead of the truck he’d been trying to buy for himself so he can use it on my parents’ farm that he also helps out at? Oh,” she said, her blood churning to an almost-boil, “and did you also know he wrote a novel despite all of this and is submitting it to publishers? So, worry about your daughter next time and stop trying to bully my brother who’s done nothing but be there for Julia even though it’s killing him.”

She stood, arms crossed and inhaled deeply, proud and defiant.

Julia’s mom clutched the straps of her purse like lifelines, her knuckles white. Paige enjoyed putting this pompous woman in her place. She’d always run around town acting like because she came from city money—not New York, but Helena, which barely counted to Paige—she was better than everyone else. Not anymore.

When she’d regained her composure, Julia’s mom stormed through the door. She looked at Marge, daggers flying from her eyes that had become slits not unlike a dragon’s. It was almost comical.

“I thought we were friends,” she mustered, her voice cracking before she walked out, her chin pointing the way.

Paige turned to her mom and dad, the latter of whom had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, and grinned. Her smile wasn’t returned, though.

“What?” she asked her mom.

Marge just shook her head, reminding Paige of when she was a child. She’d have done something that she thought was good, and her mom’s posture would drip with disappointment. It was a back-and-forth that clouded Paige’s childhood, making her want to run away as far and as fast as she could. All those memories came flooding back, welling behind Paige’s eyes.

“You’ve crossed the line, Paige,” her mom told her, her voice quiet and certain.

“Tell me how, Mom. She was berating you, Brad, and me. What gives her the right?”

“She’s my friend and was just giving her opinion. I had it handled, but you had to take the situation up a notch like you always do and make it worse.”