Page 57

CHAPTER 56

CU NEXT TUESDAY

CASS

W hen I finally wake for the day, it’s closer to lunch than breakfast, and my first thought is how grateful I am that I finally fell asleep. Vaguely, I remember Wilder leaving when it was still dark out, kissing me gently before he went to work.

My heart sinks when I realize I’m home alone all day. No job. No Cricket. No Wilder.

Just me and the empty house for the next twenty-four hours.

Pouting, I pull the covers over my head and curl up in a ball around Wilder’s pillow. Everything smells like him—greedily, I inhale, my eyes closing and pout softening. Maybe I can just stay here. Here is nice.

The sound my stomach makes roughly translates to, Nah, bitch .

Sighing, I flip off the covers and drag myself out of bed. Phone in hand, I wander around, pulling on pants, peeing, making coffee, texting Jessa all the while.

Cass: Hi ily wyd

Jessa: OMG hi! Thank God you found Cricket quickly. I’m so glad she’s alright. Are you okay?

Jessa: Wait, why are you texting me on a Tuesday at eleven?

I sigh, the coffee pot gurgling as I launch into the update—all she knew was that Cricket ran away and that we found her. So I catch her up about getting fired, Trent, Paul, the whole gunpoint situation. At first, she was reacting and responding to every message, but for a few minutes, she’s been quiet.

Cass: Is it that bad? You don’t even know what to say, do you?

Jessa: omw

My heart flutters in bestie knowing she’s on her way, and I pour my coffee, setting out a cup for her in case Remy has convinced her to start drinking what she fondly calls hot sludge . Then I dig out the tea kettle I know she’ll really want.

I throw all my energy into thinking about her instead of Cricket’s backpack by the door or her sneakers behind the couch. I nearly eat shit and burst into tears when I find her stuffed ladybug, sick that she doesn’t have it, wondering how she ever left without it. But somehow, I manage to put it away with only a couple of silent tears.

Thank God I’ll have a distraction today.

When the doorbell rings, I bound to the front door, grinning ear to ear as I whip it open, cheering, “My favorite bitch!”

Standing stiff and proud on the stoop is Avery’s mother.

My eyes pop open, the blood draining from my face so fast, I feel dizzy.

Nicole Franks is pristinely beautiful, her hair in that perfect, golden ponytail. Cool blue eyes look down her nose at me.

I blink at her like an idiot and stammer, “Uh, I’m sorry, I thought you were my friend. I mean, not that you aren’t my friend. I mean I thought you were someone else.”

When a smile flickers across her face, I’m confused. “Clearly. May I come in?”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out until I clear my throat. “Um, yes. Yes, of course.” I move out of the way to let her in, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the wall, eyes widening at the sight. Because I am a sight, just a pile of tangled red hair, braless in one of Wilder’s Dodgers tees. You can’t even see my shorts.

Nicole, on the other hand, is in a beautiful cobalt suit and red-bottomed heels. Pretty sure the bag hooked in her elbow is worth twice what I make in a year. I shut the door as she waits expectantly for me to direct her.

“C-can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

I head for the kitchen, trying not to let her see me frown as I pour her coffee into the cup I’d set aside for Jessa. “Ah, so…why are you here? Also, how do you know where I live? And lastly, milk and sugar?”

“Both please. My father-in-law has a directory. And…well, I’m here to apologize.”

I drop the carton in my hand, and when it hits the counter, milk shoots out the top. “Jesus,” I hiss, scrambling for a towel to blot at it awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” I say as I finish making her coffee and hand it to her. “I…why?”

She takes the mug, which I just realized says UNT really big on one side. The handle is the C. Not sure how I stay in solid form rather than disintegrating into the floor where I can die in peace.

After taking a sip with the word cunt directly under her face, she finally resolves to speak.

“I owe you an apology. More than that, frankly, after all the trouble we’ve caused.”

Confused, I just wait.

“After the…incident between our husbands at the baseball game, Avery has been distraught. Yesterday, when she learned you were terminated and why, she broke down completely. She…she confessed that she was the one to blame. For all of it.”

Stunned, I lean against the counter. “All…all of it? What does that mean, exactly?”

Nicole’s face scrunches with concern, embarrassment. “The terrible things she said when we spoke last. All the times she’s goaded your daughter. Her hair.” The color in her cheeks flares with that last one. “She did it herself. Mrs. Panko told me about her friend Mackinzie’s haircut—when I brought it up to Avery, she broke. She confessed to everything.”

I fucking knew it.

Her eyes are bright and sharp with regret against the flush of her skin. “I…I had to be the one to tell you just how sorry I am. For what I said, for not believing you. For how far it’s gone. After the situation with Avery’s hair and then the fight…” She sighs, shaking her head. “It was beyond my control, what my husband and his father did. Men like that aren’t used to being humiliated, never mind with an audience. I’m not sorry to say that Jared earned that hit. Not that any of them would listen to me.” She sits up a little straighter at the admission. “But to his credit, the second Avery confessed, my husband called his father to reinstate you. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I needed you to know that we’re sorry. I wish things had been different.”

“So do I,” I say, stunned. “I’m sorry, I think I’m in shock.”

“I know we must seem like horrible people. Maybe we are. My husband is proud, just like his father, entitled. But when he learned that Avery lied about it all, he was beside himself. I mean, I think he still wishes he’d landed the punch he swung for, but…” We chuckle. “I didn’t come from this life—I had to scratch and scrape and fight my way through life, through school, through college where I met Jared. When I came into that meeting and you were there, I thought…I thought I’d have to fight again, this time for Avery. I thought Avery was telling me the truth—she’s never done anything like this before, never at this level. Never this extreme. But I was wrong. She lied. She hurt your little girl, and I hurt you, and that just…” Her eyes glitter with tears, and she swallows hard. “I’m just so sorry. I’m so sorry that Jared and his father did what they did. I hope we’ve started to make it right. And I hope it never, ever happens again.”

I’m left reeling, shocked to the core. But this? Her apology and support? It’s all I wanted from the beginning, and she came in here and all but begged for forgiveness. So for that, I give her grace. “I…thank you. Maybe now we can work together and help the girls sort all this out. If we’re on the same team, we’ll be able to be there for them if it happens again.”

Relief washes over her. “I hope it never does. Thank you for being more understanding than I’ve been.” She sighs and looks away. “I don’t know what to do with Avery. This goes so much deeper than a playground lie. Something drastic needs to happen, but I don’t know where to go from here. Do you…do you have any advice? Being a teacher, being a mother, I thought maybe…” She trails off, shaking her head into the cunt mug.

But I’m too moved to joke.

A teacher. A mother. Things I am, things I’ve always wanted to be. Things I’ve gained and lost and never appreciated more than I do right now.

So I do my best to help her, starting by giving her Cricket’s therapist’s information.

I’m smack in the middle of explaining rewards charts to Nicole when Jessa busts through the front door.

“I’m here and I have vodka!” she declares, her arms full of bottles. “I brought a shiraz too, and some whiskey. I wasn’t sure how deep it was—oh!” Her whole face shoots open when she sees Nicole, then quirks with confusion as she looks her up and down. “Ah, hello there. And, um, who might you be?”

Nicole stands and picks up her bag. “Nicole Frank. And also, leaving. Miss Winfield, thank you again. For everything.” With that stiff sort of grace she possesses, she sees herself out.

Jessa turns, the bottles in her arms shifting. “And who in the world was that?”

“The bully’s mom!”

Her eyes widen. “No.”

I’m nodding, reaching for my phone and pulling up Wilder’s thread in my texts. “Yes! She just…she apologized. Her daughter fessed up, admitted she was guilty of everything, and she got me my job back.”

Now Jessa’s mouth pops open. “Really?”

“Really! Oh, fuck it, this is too much to type. Give me a second, would you, Jess?”

“Of course.” She sets the bottles down on the island and snorts a laugh, picking up the cup. “You gave her the cunt mug.”

“Happy accidents!” I say over my shoulder, then call my husband and tell him the good news.

God knows we need it.