The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer - Hodkin Michelle - Страница 28

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My mother stood to retrieve more food from the kitchen. “That’s lovely, Marcus,” she said, watching me. I kept my face carefully composed.

“Well, what do you want me to say? Lassiter has an alibi. He has roots in the community. He’s one of the most well-respected land developers in south Florida, he’s given hundreds of thousands of dollars to conservancy groups—”

“Isn’t that, like, oxymoronic?” Joseph chimed in.

Daniel grinned at our little brother, and then piped up. “I think Joseph’s right. Maybe that’s all just a pretense. I mean, he’s a developer and he’s donating to the groups who hate him? It’s obviously just for show—probably bought him good will at his bail hearing.”

I decided to join in, to keep up appearances. “I agree. Sounds like he has something to hide.” I sounded suitably jovial. My mother even gave me a thumbs-up from the kitchen. Mission accomplished.

“All right,” my father said, “I know when I’m being ganged up on. But it’s not very funny, guys. The man’s on trial for murder, and the evidence doesn’t add up.”

“But Dad, isn’t it your job to say that?”

“Knock it off, Joseph. You tell him, Dad,” Daniel said to our father. When my dad’s back was turned, Daniel winked at our little brother.

“What I’d like to know,” my mother said as my father opened his mouth to retort, “is where my eldest son will be attending college next year.”

And then Daniel was in the spotlight. He reported on the college acceptances he expected, and I tuned him out while shoveling some basmati rice onto my plate. I’d already taken a bite when I noticed something fall through the prongs of my fork. Something small. Something pale.

Something moving.

I froze mid-chew as my gaze slid over my plate. White maggots writhed on the porcelain, half-drowned in curry. I covered my mouth.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, then ate a forkful of rice.

I looked at him wide-eyed with my mouth still full, and then back down at my food. No maggots. Just rice. But I couldn’t bring myself to swallow.

I got up from the table and walked slowly to the hallway. Once I turned the corner, I raced to the guest bathroom, and spit out the food. My knees trembled and my body felt clammy. I splashed cold water over my pale, sweaty face and looked in the mirror out of habit.

Jude stood behind me, wearing the same clothes he had on the night I last saw him and a smile that was completely devoid of warmth. I couldn’t breathe.

“You need to take your mind off this place,” he said, before I turned to the toilet and threw up.

25

MY ALARM SHOCKED ME AWAKE SUNDAY morning. I hadn’t remembered falling asleep at all. I was still in the clothes I was wearing the day before.

I was just tired. And maybe a little nervous about meeting Noah today. Maybe. A little. I focused on my closet and surveyed my options.

Skirt, no. Dress, definitely not. Jeans it would be, then. I pulled on a destroyed pair and snatched a favorite T-shirt from my dresser drawer, yanking it over my head.

My heart beat wildly in sharp contrast to the sluggish movement of every other body part as I made my way to the kitchen that morning, as if everything was normal. Because it was.

My mother was putting slices of bread in the toaster when I walked in.

“Morning, Mom.” My voice was so even. I gave myself an internal round of applause.

“Good morning, honey.” She smiled, and pulled out a filter for the coffeepot. “You’re up early.” She tucked a strand of her short hair behind her ear.

“Yes.” I was. And she didn’t know why. Since Wednesday, I’d been trying to think of some way to mention today’s nonplans to her, but my mind kept blanking. And now he was almost here.

“Got any plans today?”

Go time. “Yeah, actually.” Keep it casual. No big deal.

“What are you up to?” She rummaged through the cabinets and I couldn’t see her face.

“I don’t really know.” It was true; I didn’t, though that is generally not what parents like to hear. Particularly not my parents. Particularly not my mother.

“Well, who are you going with?” she asked. If she wasn’t suspicious yet, she would be soon.

“A boy from school …” I said, my voice trailing off as I braced myself for the third degree.

“Do you want to take my car?”

What?

“Mara?”

I blinked. “Sorry … I thought I said ‘what?’ What?”

“I asked if you wanted to take the Acura. I don’t need it today, and you’re off the codeine.”

Daniel must have held up his side of the bargain. I’d have to ask how he finagled it later.

I declined to correct my mother and tell her I’d been off the codeine for days. The burn still hurt, but since Friday, it had subsided quite a bit. And under the dressings, it didn’t look nearly as bad as I’d expected. The ER doctor told me I would probably scar, but my blisters already seemed to be healing. So far, so good.

“Thanks Mom, but he’s actually picking me up. He’ll be here in—” I checked the clock. Damn. “Five minutes.”

My mother turned to look at me, surprised. “I wish you’d given me a bit more notice,” she said, as she checked her reflection in the microwave’s glass surface.

“You look great, Mom. He’ll probably just honk or something anyway.” I was tempted to sneak a quick glance at myself in the microwave too, but wasn’t willing to chance who might be staring back. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the kitchen table instead. “Is Dad here?”

“Nope, he left for the office. Why?”

Because that would leave one less person around to witness my coming humiliation. But before I could translate my thought into acceptable speech, Daniel sauntered in. He stretched, glancing his fingertips against the ceiling.

“Mother,” he said, kissing Mom on the cheek, as he made his way to the refrigerator. “Any plans today, Mara?” he asked, his head buried in the contents of the fridge.

“Shut up,” I said, but my heart wasn’t in it.

“Don’t tease her, Daniel,” my mother said.

Three knocks at the front door announced Noah’s arrival.

Daniel and I looked at each other for a half a second. Then I shot up from the kitchen table and he slammed the refrigerator door. We both bolted for the foyer. Daniel got there first. Bastard. My mother was right behind me, rubbernecking.

Daniel opened the front door wide. Noah was a standing ovation in dark jeans and a white T-shirt, exuding his scruffy charm.

And he was carrying flowers. My face didn’t know whether to blanch or blush.

“Morning,” Noah said, flashing a brilliant smile at the three of us. “I’m Noah Shaw,” he said, looking over my shoulder. He extended the bouquet of lilies to my mother, who reached past me to take it. It was stunning. Noah had good taste. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dyer.”

“Come on in, Noah,” she gushed. “And you can call me Indi.”

I was dying. Daniel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

Noah stepped inside and grinned at my brother. “You must be Daniel?”

“Indeed. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” my brother said.

It was a slow, painful death.

“Please sit, Noah.” My mother gestured at the sofas in the living room. “I’m going to put these in some water.”

I saw a window of opportunity and latched on to it. “Actually, I think we have to—”

“I’d love to, thanks,” Noah said quickly. He was trying to hide a smile and failing, while Daniel looked like a canaryeating feline. They both walked into the living room. Daniel sat in an overstuffed armchair as Noah settled himself into one of the sofas. I stood.

“So, what are you doing with my little sister today?” Daniel asked. I closed my eyes in defeat.

“I’m afraid I can’t ruin the surprise,” Noah said. “But I promise I’ll return her intact.”

He did not just say that. Daniel cackled, and the two of them somehow segued into a conversation. About music, I think, but I wasn’t sure. I was too busy drowning in my embarrassment to pay much attention until my mother returned from the kitchen and breezed past me to sit directly across from Noah.

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