Page 27
Story: Tiny Precious Secrets
Bug can swim. She can surf. Hell, we’ve even been scuba diving. But I’m not about to stand here and let everyone think I’m a loser for not ‘rescuing’ my daughter.
I run over, tossing my phone and wallet on the ground before jumping in and ruining one of my best suits as I swim out to the deepest part of the massive pool where Bug grabs onto me for dear life. She’s very convincing when she sputters out water. “I thought I was drowning. My feet got caught in my dress.”
I don’t reply. I tow her to the side where a dozen people help pull her out and cover us with towels. They’re all asking if she’s okay and if we need help.
“I’m fine,” she says. “We were playing tag and I slipped.”
“Who was playing tag?” I ask.
“Me and the other kids.”
I glance around, seeing no other kids. I pick up my things, take her elbow, and say sternly, “Come with me.”
Allie is looking at me as we pass her. Guilt is written all over her face. It’s quite possible we’re the only two people here who know we’ve just been played. “Guess I’ll see you at the wedding,” I tell Allie.
Sorry, she mouths.
I close my eyes and sulk, embarrassed that Bug caused a scene and ruined the rest of our night.
And I dread what’s going to happen next. Because I know it’s time to grow some fucking balls and stand up to my manipulative daughter.
Chapter Eleven
Allie
I haven’t slept much. Guilt has wreaked havoc on me. It was my fault Asher’s night ended early. It was such an adolescent thing to do, asking him to kiss me right there in front of everyone. And the worst part, the part that makes me a terrible human, is that I knew Darla was there. I caught a glimpse of blue hair right before I challenged him to kiss me.
I roll over and watch the sun rise through my bedroom window knowing I royally messed up.
I could very well have, in one fell swoop, ruined not only his relationship with Bug, butourrelationship—whatever it may be.
The other thing that had sleep eluding me, and something that’s occurred to me more than once over the past twelve hours, is what if somehow I wanted it to happen. Us being put in a precarious situation that could potentially blow up this thing we have. I mean, the stuff he’s been saying recently. The way he’s been acting and looking at me. It’s all so intense. Am I subconsciously ruining this? Am I sabotaging it?
Even as all of that was going through my head, I was also disappointed. I wanted a replay of the night before. Us on the beach. Him making love to me. The two of us wrapped up in each other so tightly nothing was between us. Not my past. Not his daughter. Not my inability to let him in.
I crawl out of bed knowing there’s somewhere I need to be. My brother’s wedding. It’s at eleven o’clock this morning. An unconventional time, but they wanted Charlie and all the kids to be able to enjoy the reception, which will be a champagne brunch on the beach right after the ceremony.
Everything about this wedding is the complete opposite of when Dallas married his first wife, Phoebe. That wedding took place at the winery at sunset and was a very formal occasion. Nobody wanted any similarities to the wedding where Dallas married his high school sweetheart—the woman who died tragically a few years later, along with their infant son.
Their infant son.
My eyes close and I hold back the tears that threaten every time I think about Dallas’s son. Because thoughts of DJ inevitably lead to thoughts of Christopher. I push away the flashbacks that start creeping into my head. Today is not a day for mourning. It’s a day of celebration.
After a long, hot, soul-cleansing shower, I grab my makeup bag and head over to Mom and Dad’s bungalow where they’ve set up the bridal suite in one of the bedrooms.
Mom greets me at the door. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Don’t ask.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulder, escorting me inside. There’s a huge spread of pastries along with coffee and mimosas in their kitchen. She picks up a mug. “Coffee?”
I sit on a barstool, noticing I’m the first one to arrive. “Please.”
“You and Asher were quite the topic of conversation last night.” She hands me the mug. “You’d have known that if you hadn’t rushed out so quickly. But it’s not like it really came as a surprise to anyone.”
I let my head fall to the countertop and bang my forehead against the unforgiving granite. “Can we not talk about this? There are more important things going on today.”
Her hand brushes across my back. “Just because your brother is getting married doesn’t mean we can’t figure out your problems.”
I run over, tossing my phone and wallet on the ground before jumping in and ruining one of my best suits as I swim out to the deepest part of the massive pool where Bug grabs onto me for dear life. She’s very convincing when she sputters out water. “I thought I was drowning. My feet got caught in my dress.”
I don’t reply. I tow her to the side where a dozen people help pull her out and cover us with towels. They’re all asking if she’s okay and if we need help.
“I’m fine,” she says. “We were playing tag and I slipped.”
“Who was playing tag?” I ask.
“Me and the other kids.”
I glance around, seeing no other kids. I pick up my things, take her elbow, and say sternly, “Come with me.”
Allie is looking at me as we pass her. Guilt is written all over her face. It’s quite possible we’re the only two people here who know we’ve just been played. “Guess I’ll see you at the wedding,” I tell Allie.
Sorry, she mouths.
I close my eyes and sulk, embarrassed that Bug caused a scene and ruined the rest of our night.
And I dread what’s going to happen next. Because I know it’s time to grow some fucking balls and stand up to my manipulative daughter.
Chapter Eleven
Allie
I haven’t slept much. Guilt has wreaked havoc on me. It was my fault Asher’s night ended early. It was such an adolescent thing to do, asking him to kiss me right there in front of everyone. And the worst part, the part that makes me a terrible human, is that I knew Darla was there. I caught a glimpse of blue hair right before I challenged him to kiss me.
I roll over and watch the sun rise through my bedroom window knowing I royally messed up.
I could very well have, in one fell swoop, ruined not only his relationship with Bug, butourrelationship—whatever it may be.
The other thing that had sleep eluding me, and something that’s occurred to me more than once over the past twelve hours, is what if somehow I wanted it to happen. Us being put in a precarious situation that could potentially blow up this thing we have. I mean, the stuff he’s been saying recently. The way he’s been acting and looking at me. It’s all so intense. Am I subconsciously ruining this? Am I sabotaging it?
Even as all of that was going through my head, I was also disappointed. I wanted a replay of the night before. Us on the beach. Him making love to me. The two of us wrapped up in each other so tightly nothing was between us. Not my past. Not his daughter. Not my inability to let him in.
I crawl out of bed knowing there’s somewhere I need to be. My brother’s wedding. It’s at eleven o’clock this morning. An unconventional time, but they wanted Charlie and all the kids to be able to enjoy the reception, which will be a champagne brunch on the beach right after the ceremony.
Everything about this wedding is the complete opposite of when Dallas married his first wife, Phoebe. That wedding took place at the winery at sunset and was a very formal occasion. Nobody wanted any similarities to the wedding where Dallas married his high school sweetheart—the woman who died tragically a few years later, along with their infant son.
Their infant son.
My eyes close and I hold back the tears that threaten every time I think about Dallas’s son. Because thoughts of DJ inevitably lead to thoughts of Christopher. I push away the flashbacks that start creeping into my head. Today is not a day for mourning. It’s a day of celebration.
After a long, hot, soul-cleansing shower, I grab my makeup bag and head over to Mom and Dad’s bungalow where they’ve set up the bridal suite in one of the bedrooms.
Mom greets me at the door. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Don’t ask.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulder, escorting me inside. There’s a huge spread of pastries along with coffee and mimosas in their kitchen. She picks up a mug. “Coffee?”
I sit on a barstool, noticing I’m the first one to arrive. “Please.”
“You and Asher were quite the topic of conversation last night.” She hands me the mug. “You’d have known that if you hadn’t rushed out so quickly. But it’s not like it really came as a surprise to anyone.”
I let my head fall to the countertop and bang my forehead against the unforgiving granite. “Can we not talk about this? There are more important things going on today.”
Her hand brushes across my back. “Just because your brother is getting married doesn’t mean we can’t figure out your problems.”
Table of Contents
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