“Can’t you appeal? This is awful!” I was at a loss. I knew Mom was having financial difficulties after Dad died, but I had no idea it was to the tune of $250,000.
“I have! It was the first thing I did. Didn’t matter. The insurance won’t pay. Now the hospital is coming after me threatening to send it to collections. I asked to be put on a payment plan, but the only one they’d consider, given the amount owed, was way more than I can afford. This is why I need to sell the house.”
I could never remember seeing my mom so stressed.
“How much are you hoping to sell the house for?” I was terrified for my mother. What was she supposed to do? She was sixty-two years old. She only had so many working years left in her. At this rate, she would have no nest egg, nothing to retire on.
Mom ran a hand through her greying curls. “The realtor that came around said I could get $350,000 for it. That’s enough to pay off the hospital bills and get a small studio apartment in town.”
“A studio apartment?” I tried not to sound as horrified as I was.
Mom’s expression shattered for the briefest of moments. “I’ll do what I have to do, Meggie. I don’t have many options here.”
“Why didn’t you say something to Whitney or me?” I hated the thought of Mom worrying herself sick and not letting her daughters know.
Mom put her hands over mine, leaning back into me. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. I didn’t want to worry you and your sister. I’ll figure something out. I always do. Don’t forget who’s the parent here.” She patted my arm. “Now go meet Skylar. Bring her by if she’s not busy. It’s been too long since I’ve seen that girl.”
“Mom, we need to talk about this. I’ll call Whitney; we can brainstorm—”
“Don’t you dare tell Whitney,” Mom said vehemently. She turned around in her chair to look up at me. “She’s doing so well in France. She needs to focus on herself and not worry about me.”
“She only ever focuses on herself,” I muttered, though loud enough for my mom to hear me.
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be like that about Whitney. She deals with things in her own way, and it may be different than how you cope, but it doesn’t make it wrong. I think you need to remember to look at things from another perspective, Meghan Ann. It seems you’ve forgotten how.” Then her face softened, and she stood up to give me a hug. “Now go and spend time with your friend.”
I knew that was the end of the conversation. “Do you need me to get you anything while I’m out?”
Mom shook her head and all but shooed me out the door.
I felt agitated on my drive to the coffee shop. Mom was in a lot of financial trouble, and I had to do something to help. The problem was I didn’t think the town of Southport boasted a job for my credentials that would pay me what I needed to be paid to help Mom out. I chewed my bottom lip as I pulled into a parking space outside of Nat’s Coffee. I needed to come up with some cash, and I needed to do it fast. But in the meantime, I put a smile on my face for my newly single bestie.
I spotted Skylar immediately. She sat in a booth toward the back, a pair of large, dark sunglasses covering half her face. Her black hair hung in straight, sheeny strands on either side of her pale face. She still looked as if she drank vinegar to get that white, ghost-like complexion, though I knew she had outgrown that particularly gross habit years ago. No one could ever accuse Skylar of not being committed when she put her mind to something. I could tell she was trying to blend into the scenery. The problem was Skylar could never blend in. She stuck out in the Americana normalcy of Southport like a sore thumb.
She was tapping furiously at her phone, her face a thunder cloud. I made my way over, slipping into the booth across from her. “Hey, dollface,” I greeted.
Skylar looked up and gave me a small smile. “Hey, prima donna.” She pushed a steaming cup towards me. “I ordered your usual. One caramel latte with extra caramel.”
I lifted the hot mug and took a long, luxurious drink. “You know me so well.”
Skylar was typing away on her phone again, gritting her teeth. When she was finished, she threw the phone into her massive black bag, zipping it up with ferocity.
“Dare I ask what that was about?” I raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Skylar ripped off a piece of the donut on the plate in front of her and shoved it in her mouth. “It was Mac. He says he wants to take Morla. I said over my dead body. I’ve already had his care put into my will for God’s sake. He’s mine. Plus I made sure to bring him with me today because I don’t trust the asshole not to abscond with him.” She bared her teeth, and if she wasn’t my best friend, I would have been terrified of her. Hell, I was still terrified of her sometimes.
Morla was Skylar and Mac’s twenty-year-old tortoise that they had gotten on a vacation in the Florida Keys. Skylar had named her pet after the ancient turtle in her favorite childhood movie, The Neverending Story. She doted on that tortoise more than some people did their children.
“Good thinking, Sky.” I tipped my drink in her direction.
Her phone buzzed from her purse. Instead of looking at the screen, she turned it off. “I told him to take his shit and get out. He has seven hours to do it. He’s haggling over every tiny thing like the selfish dick he is.” She looked ready to spit nails. “I told him to take it all; that I didn’t want anything that reminded me of him. I’d rather buy all new stuff than fight with him over the fucking toaster.” She drank the rest of her black coffee in one gulp, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. I felt her tense. Skylar hated touchy-feely crap, but I also knew that she was hurting. And she knew I was into the touchy-feely crap. “He’s a jerk who doesn’t deserve you, babe.”
She gave me a lopsided grin. “That’s right. Mr. Three Nipples isn’t worth my time.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Three nipples?”
Skylar smirked. “Oh yeah. I thought it made him unique. I should have seen him for the freak he is.” She ran a hand down her face. “I’m angrier than anything.”
“As you should be! What he was doing is—”
“No, not at him,” Skylar interrupted. “I’m angry at myself.”
I squeezed her hand. “Sky, don’t be like that. You couldn’t have known he’d turn out to be such an asshat.”
Skylar shook her head. “Maybe not, but I should have known better than to try and have a relationship with anyone. I’ve seen firsthand how shitty loving someone is. I can’t believe I thought I could do healthy and normal.”
I was taken aback by her attitude. Skylar wasn’t the kind of woman to sink into self-pity. She was strong and confident and took no bullshit.
But I also knew that she had witnessed firsthand the havoc a dysfunctional relationship could cause. Her parents had divorced three times over the years and always managed to get back together—not that they should have. They spent most of their time yelling and screaming when they weren’t completely ignoring each other. Her father had cheated on her mother, and her mother had cheated on her father. They hadn’t even tried to hide it from their impressionable daughter. It was no wonder she developed a jaded view of love and relationships.