“Yes. I just wanted to talk,” she whispers, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the sofa so we’re eye level. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“I think I’m going to pick Texas,” she says, swallowing. “For my destination.”
“Why in the world would you do that?”
“Lainey’s sisters live there. I just did some digging. One lives in Dallas—the other one is in a small town called Dripping Springs.”
“And? So?”
“I think Lainey needs to meet them. Her mother’s gone. She has no family left. It’s a gaping hole in her life—and I really think she needs to try to fill it….”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say. “And maybe it would help with her drinking.”
“Exactly,” Hannah says. “I’ve tried to talk to her about that—”
“So have I—”
“But she refuses.”
“I know.”
“Maybe if she got this big family secret out in the open—she could…I don’t know…rest a bit,” Hannah says.
I nod. It isn’t the first time that Hannah and I have discussed Lainey’s drinking—which seems to have gotten worse since the pandemic and her mother’s death. But it’s the first time it’s occurred to me that it could have something to do with a vacuum in her life. I think of my own parents and shudder just imagining what it will be like when they’re gone.
“That’s really nice of you, Hannah. But you’re the one in the middle of a crisis. Not Lainey. You should pick somewhere you want to go.”
“Maybe so. But if you think about it, Lainey’s crisis was her mother passing. And we couldn’t be there for her.”
“We did what we could,” I say, thinking of how often I called Lainey during that time.
“I know, but we can do more now.”
I nod, feeling a surge of admiration for Hannah’s big heart.
“I guess it’s worth a try,” I say.
“Definitely.” Hannah smiles. “And it will be an adventure.”
“It’s always an adventure with Lainey,” I say. “But I really don’t think she’ll agree to this.”
“Well, she’s going to have to,” Hannah says with a worried smile. “No vetoes. Remember?”
“Diabolical,” I say, reaching out from under my blanket to give her a fist bump. “Downright cold-blooded.”
Chapter 6
Lainey
The following morning, I awaken to the sound of Hannah crying. I reach across the bed and drape my arm around her.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper.
“No, it’s not,” she sobs. “Grady called my mother. Before I could talk to her. He’s already turned her against me.”
“How can that be?” I ask. “Did he tell her what he did?”
“Of course not,” she says. “He’s blaming everything on me. I’m the bad guy. He’s the victim. So my mother is livid. With me.”
“Oh my God, Hannah. That’s awful. I’m so sorry…. And could Grady be any sleazier?”
“He’s the worst!”
As Hannah continues to vent, reading aloud Grady’s latest text rant, I discreetly check my own phone. I am delighted to discover that I have not one but two responses to the messages I sent last night to Grady and Munich. Even better, it appears that they have failed to compare notes. Rookies.
As Hannah gets out of bed, I nonchalantly ask if I can borrow her car to run a quick errand.
“Sure. What do you need? I might have it here.”
“I feel like I’m getting a UTI,” I improvise. “I just want to get some cranberry juice and knock it out. Do you need anything?”
“I don’t think so,” she says. “But I can go with you—”
“That’s okay,” I quickly say. “You stay here with Tyson. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
—
