“Well, sure, I can imagine that. You’re pretty irreplaceable.”
I smiled. That was nice.
Then I marched back upstairs and was startled to find that, in the time I had been gone, Kitty, Thad’s grandmother—wearing her choker pearls and pearl earrings instead of rhinestones—had appeared and was now sitting on the couch underneath her portrait, which was a little creepy.
She patted the space beside her. “Hi, Kitty,” I said.
“Hi, darling.” She leaned over, offering a cheek for a kiss. She smiled at me disapprovingly. “You’re making a mistake. That’s a good boy in there.”
I wasn’t just losing Thad. I was losing his family. His grandmother, his parents, his brother and sister, his aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews.
“Amelia, dear,” she continued, “I know that girls these days have certain ideas about their lives…” She trailed off, pursing her shockingly red lips. “But men have always had their little…” She waved her hand with a flourish. “Dalliances. But that’s all they are. Dalliances. You’re the wife.”
I rolled my eyes. Was she serious? “Kitty, I’m not going to spend my life as the woman who looks the other way.”
She gave me that vivacious smile of hers that I loved so much. “But, darling, you’re not looking the other way. No, no. This is freedom. While he’s doing what he wants to, you’re doing what you want to. No harm, no foul.” As she was painting the picture with her hands, it all started coming together for me. All the glamorous pictures of the sophisticated pool parties and Kitty and Bob arm in arm at galas and fund-raisers, drinking champagne and dancing and laughing. It was an arrangement; it was not forsaking all others until death do us part. My heart sank. Kitty and Bob weren’t true love. Thad and I weren’t, either. Maybe the mere idea of that kind of love was as fake as the rhinestones Kitty wore in that portrait.
Kitty interrupted my thoughts. “Do you understand, darling?”
I searched for someone to share a look of disbelief with, but the room was empty. Was she serious? All the pieces of the puzzle were coming together now. Kitty was funding Thad’s carefree “aspiring novelist” lifestyle—well, Kitty and I were. And if he didn’t do what she wanted, that was going to be over. Maybe Kitty didn’t want a divorced grandson. Maybe she didn’t want a gay grandson. Whatever her reasons, she wanted her grandson to stay married and had somehow persuaded him that he should try to do so. It was absurd, but not surprising. Kitty had Thad wrapped around her little finger, and if she was upset he could barely function.
Thad emerged from the bedroom, looking sheepish. I glared at him and said, “So this is why you want me back?”
I became even surer of my theory when Kitty chimed in, “I’m willing to make this worth your while.”
I locked eyes with Kitty and said, “If you think I can be bought, you don’t know me at all.”
Thad said, “No one is saying you can be bought, Amelia.”
Parker emerged from the bedroom, too, out of breath, his arms full and a duffel bag hanging off each shoulder. “I think that’s the last of it,” he said, huffing.
“It sure as hell is,” I said, following him out and slamming the door.
Embarrassingly, I burst into tears as I got into his front seat. Parker, sweaty, out of breath, and so cute it defied explanation, put his arm around my shoulder. “Anyone who cheats on you isn’t worth the price of the paper they’re printed on, Liabelle.” It didn’t make sense, but I found it oddly comforting. He removed his arm, started the ignition, and said, “You know what we’re going to do?”
I shrugged sullenly.
“We’re going to go pay a visit to my friend Hannah.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“She is the most vicious divorce attorney you’ll ever meet.”
I sniffed and nodded.
Parker added: “Then we’re going to go get Sheree and Philip, and I’m going to take you all to dinner to celebrate that Amelia Saxton is free, and the world is hers for the taking.”
My life, in less than a week, had gone to hell in a handbasket. But I had to admit that, when he put it that way, it didn’t sound half-bad.
* * *
Parker Thaysden can dance. I don’t know why I was so surprised by that. Sure, I figured he’d learned to waltz at cotillion. But I didn’t know he had, like, moves.
When we got back to Philip and Sheree’s place and were about to call it a night, I was only half-surprised to find twenty-plus cars in the driveway and all the furniture in the front two rooms moved out.
“It’s the Amelia Saxton Freedom Festival!” Philip shouted.
I laughed at the Old School reference, and, before I could worry about a party of this magnitude on a work night, realized I didn’t have a single place to be. “Philip, will you two ever grow up?”
He nodded emphatically. “Most certainly not, if we can help it.”
I kissed him on the cheek. “You are amazing. Thank you for letting me crash.”
I felt Sheree’s arm appear from behind me. Her curly hair was long and free down below her shoulders, and her pale skin was flushed from dancing. “Friends don’t let friends stay at cheap motels while they are having major life crises.”
I smiled, and she whispered, “I think Parker likes you.”
“Sheree, you’re a little tipsy.”
“Even still…” She trailed off as Parker came up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out into the empty living room-turned-dance floor.
“I love this song!” he shouted to me.
I smiled at his enthusiasm as he spun me around and Fergie shouted through the speakers, “Tonight’s gonna be a good night. Tonight’s gonna be a good, good night!” I could never have imagined when I woke up this morning that I would have agreed with her.
“Thank you for tonight,” I said in his ear as he pulled me to him. “I feel much better.”
“Was it the champagne, the sushi, or the fact that Hannah thinks you can weasel cash out of Kitty if you sign an NDA?”
I laughed. “Thirty-three percent, thirty-three percent, thirty-three percent.”
Parker laughed, too, with a laugh I hadn’t seen since we were kids, throwing his head back, dimples showing. He was just too adorable for words. I was glad to see him a little bit happy after so much sadness.
A couple hours later, I walked him to his car. “Thank you again for everything, Parker. There aren’t a lot of men who would give a woman who woke them up and chewed them out such an amazing day. I couldn’t have faced all the hard stuff without you.”
“Cape Carolina peeps have to stick together,” he said, raising his hand for me to give him five. When I did, he clasped his hand around mine, and our eyes locked. For the tiniest of instants, I considered what might happen if I kept holding his hand, if I took one step toward him, if I leaned in just a little. Which would have been absurd, since I hadn’t even begun to mourn my separation and Parker was considering becoming a single dad. But the moment passed as quickly as it came, clearly nothing more than my imagination—and the wine.
“Plus,” he said, breaking the tension, “I really needed a day off from work.”