311 Pelican Court - Debbie Macomber [55]
“Where have you been?” Zach snapped.
Rosie stepped forward. “Don’t give her the opportunity to lie, Zach,” she said, sounding perfectly calm and reasonable. He, on the other hand, was furious and not afraid to show it.
“Why should I tell you?” Allison muttered. She crossed her arms and stared angrily at them both.
“You skipped school and took the ferry over to Seattle.”
That her mother knew was clearly a shock to Allison. The girl’s lips curled as if she were about to ask where Rosie had uncovered that information, but she stopped herself before the question had formed.
“You’re going to have to be smarter than this if you want to fool your parents,” Rosie said smoothly.
Zach was grateful that Rosie was the one doing the talking. In his present frame of mind, he was useless. The urge to take Allison by the shoulders and give her a good shake was almost overwhelming. He’d been worried sick. Apparently she didn’t know what she’d put her parents through; furthermore, she didn’t care. That was the crux of the matter. She didn’t give a damn, and he said as much before he could censor the words.
“That was a crazy, selfish stunt you pulled, and I’m here to tell you it won’t be happening again.”
Allison’s eyes flared with defiance. “I hate you!” she shouted. “I hate you both.”
“You can hate me all you want, but you’ll respect the rules of this family.”
“This family,” she echoed. “What family? You destroyed our family.” She pointed at Zach and then Rosie. “Both of you destroyed our family. I hate you—I hate both of you for what you did.” Whirling around, she raced toward her bedroom and slammed the door with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall. The eight-by-ten family portrait, taken two years previously, swung violently and then crashed to the floor. The glass shattered.
Silence ensued, and Zach collected his breath. “Well,” he murmured, “that’s that.” He wasn’t proud of the way he’d lost his composure. In fact, he didn’t feel proud of much at the moment.
At least Rosie had been with him when he’d confronted Allison and they’d faced her united. She was much better at this sort of thing than he was. His ex-wife knew what to say. He didn’t.
After a few minutes, Rosie gathered her purse and coat and started for the front door. She seemed reluctant to leave and he was equally unwilling to let her go.
“Thanks,” he said, walking with her. “You handled the situation ten times better than I could have. I’m grateful you were here.”
She shrugged, dismissing his praise.
The irony didn’t hit him until after Rosie was gone. It seemed that they got along a whole lot better since they were divorced than they had while they were married.
Twelve
Saturday morning a week before Thanksgiving, Maryellen woke with a mission. Her nails were a mess. She was badly in need of a manicure and polish, and felt eternally grateful that she’d managed to book an appointment with Rachel at Get Nailed. Because Jon’s days off changed from week to week, Maryellen was never entirely sure when to schedule an appointment. As soon as she learned he’d be taking Katie on Saturday morning, she’d phoned the salon. Rachel could do her nails but didn’t have a free slot to trim her hair.
Maryellen never seemed to have time for herself anymore. Being a single mother and holding down a job was much more demanding than she’d ever envisioned. It wasn’t uncommon for Katie to wake up once and sometimes twice a night. If it hadn’t been for Jon taking their daughter on random evenings, Maryellen wouldn’t have slept through a single night in the entire three months since Katie’s birth.
As soon as she’d showered and dressed, Maryellen headed for Get Nailed, her spirits high.
Rachel was finishing with her previous client when Maryellen entered the shop. Her nail appointment had gone from once a week to whenever she could fit it in. This time it’d been three weeks since she’d last seen Rachel, but that couldn’t be helped.
Maryellen loved the “girls” at Get Nailed. They were witty