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Carla wished that Abby hadn’t followed in her footsteps by marrying young and having kids so quickly.She would’ve wanted Abby to experience more of life first and be able to follow her passion for acting.Carla knew Abby could’ve been a star.Unlike Beverly, who never would have made it big, Abby had talent and that special spark.If she only had half the confidence that Beverly had and more time, she would have been famous.

When Carla looked back on Morgan’s drinking, Charlie’s staying with Rick, and Abby’s need to create an instant family, she wondered if she’d done the right thing keeping their father from them.Did her lies predetermine her daughters’ lives?

The one thing Carla knew for sure, was if anyone discovered what she’d been hiding all these years, she’d have to disappear.And until that viral video of the fire, no one had found her.

CHAPTER 33

Morgan

Morgan woke up—if you could call what she’d done sleeping—before sunrise and walked the two blocks to Starbucks.It was so early that she thought she would be the first customer there, but the place already had a handful of people waiting for their morning pick-me-up.

The espresso machines gurgled and hissed as each barista politely took ridiculously complicated orders from picky customers.The microwave dinged periodically as it warmed up croissants and egg tartlets for those same people.The baristas called out the customers’ names while Morgan waited for her cappuccino with no extras, under the name Pumpernickel.She realized she wasn’t alone in giving a fun fake name.Today, she heard Radcliffe, Obama, and her new all-time favorite, Uncle Mikey.

The tables around Morgan began filling up with early risers infused with liquid energy.Some were already clicking away on their laptops, two clusters of moms chatted and laughed— probably about their kids, and an earnest man in an ill-fitting suit discussed his resume with an intense red-headed woman in black slacks and a silk blouse.

After Morgan had been sitting at the same table for two hours with her hands wrapped around a cold cappuccino, she considered ordering another one, but the line had stretched out the door and into the parking lot.She knew if she got up, she’d lose her table, and she was enjoying the time alone.

In Brooklyn people patiently waited in long lines in the cold to order their coffee,Morgan thought.It’s rarely under sixty degrees In Los Angeles, and I can hear complaints every time the door opens.

The sun had finally emerged from behind a cloud, so people inside began shedding their hoodies and light jackets and draping them off the backs of their chairs.

The chatter inside grew louder as each new table became occupied.The voices rose and fell like Muzak to Morgan but less annoying.She eavesdropped on the couple next to her having a heated discussion about who would get custody of the parakeet if they decided to separate.She tried hard to use all the background noise as a distraction from the thoughts doing somersaults in her head.

How will I ever trust anyone again when my own mother lied about the most important things?How could someone supposed to love us betray us and then kill herself so we can’t ask why?

She wanted to scream, and she would have if she didn’t think the baristas would call the police or kick her out.Morgan rubbed her forehead hard, trying to push the thoughts onto a more productive path, but like ornery children, they refused to listen.If nothing else, maybe all the rubbing would help smooth out her wrinkles so she could at least look like a youthful, crazy person.

Morgan had always thought Carla was rational and made good decisions, so she had to have had a valid reason for hiding Brian from them.Now, she and her sisters would only know his side of things, and after this many years, how would that explain why Carla took her own life?

Morgan pondered what it might be like if they met their father in person.What if he didn’t like them?She and Charlie aren’t the cute toddlers he remembers.What if we don’t like him?Has too much time passed to have this man, a total stranger, come into our lives?

Her thoughts were interrupted by two college-age girls standing in front of her table glaring at her.She knew they wanted her to relinquish her seat.Although Morgan took pleasure in the mere implication that they thought they could influence her with their stares, she decided she’d been there long enough.

As she reached behind her and took her purse off the back of her chair, Morgan noticed a young man looking for a table coming up beside her.He was the epitome of the guys she wished liked her.He wore a polo shirt but had hair down to his shoulders and a tattoo of a roaring lion on his upper arm.She would have flirted with him if he had been ten years older and didn’t look like he drove a muscle car.

“Would you like this table?”she asked him, “I’m about to leave.”

He thanked her and she stood up so he could sit down.The girls sneered at Morgan.You snooze you lose,she thought as she gave the girls a big smile.Learn to be more polite to older people, then next time, maybe you will have won out over the cute guy…although I doubt it.

By the time Morgan had walked back to Carla’s house, it was nine o’clock.She assumed her sisters would be awake, but the house was silent, and even Albert was asleep in his furry bed.

Morgan needed to vent to someone.She returned to the front door, opened it, and then slammed it so hard the walls rattled.

Within seconds, Charlie and Abby sprinted into the living room.Charlie rubbed her eyes, and Abby stretched her arms over her head.

“What was that banging?”Charlie asked.

“I heard it, too.It woke me up,” Abby said.

Morgan shrugged her shoulders, hiding a smile.“I didn’t hear anything.But, since you’re both up, we have some things we should discuss.”

“Okay, but we need coffee first,” Charlie said, yawning.“Do you want any, Morgan?”

“I’ll have a little,” Morgan said, then realized she had forgotten to bring back their vanilla lattes.

Charlie made coffee and then handed Abby and Morgan mugs.Morgan rarely drank more than one cup because it made her jittery, so she pretended to sip hers, but then she let out a loud belch.

“Nice manners,” Charlie said.