so dramatic.”
“Someone in this family has to be.”
“You compensating for your parents’ absolute dedication to being down to earth always gets me into trouble.”
“Now who’s being dramatic?”
“I have things to do.”
“Yes, you do. Byeeeeeee,” Chloe signed off.
After she’d disconnected, she made her second call.
“Oh shit,” her baby sister Sasha answered.
“It didn’t go well.”
“Poor Mom,” Sasha whispered. Then, “Is Mary on it?”
“Totes.”
“Mom’s gonna be pissed.”
“Yep. Then eventually, she’ll be happy.”
“You know…”
Sasha trailed off and didn’t start up again.
“I don’t know unless you tell me,” Chloe prompted.
Sasha sounded like she was sharing a guilty secret when she said, “Uncle Corey, he always gave me a bit of the heebie-jeebies.”
Sasha was not alone in that estimation.
“He was into her,” Chloe stated.
“So into her.”
The sisters were silent.
Sasha broke it.
“Okay, take good care of her, okay?”
“You know I will,” Chloe assured.
“Should I fly home this weekend?”
“No. I got this.”
“Are you going to tell Matt?”
“Absolutely not.”
Their brother, annoyingly upright, responsible and protective, would ruin everything.
“Right,” Sasha muttered.
“It’s going to be okay, la petite amie.”
“Yeah,” Sasha said.
“Stay cool.”
“Stay smart.”
“Au revoir.”
“You’re such a goof. Ciao, sis.”
Chloe disconnected that call, and then hit more buttons.
“Did you talk with her?” her dad asked in greeting.
Not exactly, she did not answer.
“Well…”
That was all she was going to give him.
For now.
“Tell me. How’d it go, kiddo?” he pressed, knowing mother and daughters had always been close, but once she and Sasha grew up, Mom shifted, and Mom-Mom became Mom-Friend.
Chloe could not say they told each other everything.
But they shared.
A lot.
And Mom had shared this, maybe because she was hurting and fragile after Uncle Corey died.
But mostly because they were tight, and honesty had always been encouraged in their family.
In fact, as far as she knew, it was only Chloe who played fast and loose with that last, occasionally roping her sister in on the act (though never her brother—solid, dependable, do-the-right-thing Matt was apparently working toward sainthood, and it was vastly irritating).
And, it couldn’t be avoided, in one terrible instance, her father had done the same.
“Not too good, Dad.”
“Hell,” he whispered.
“She went right to the hotel.”
“Hmm.”
Hmm was right.
After whatever happened, happened, Mom not asking Rodney to take her right home was telling.
At least Chloe thought so.
In fact, it was lunacy (and also telling), that before she even headed up, she had Mary make arrangements so Mom could hit that hotel and book a facial for this afternoon, while Mom made plans the next day with friends who lived up in Prescott, all of this after taking that box into the mountains.
If Mom was over that guy, she’d just come up and do what Uncle Corey wanted done and go back down.
And after they’d done whatever Uncle Corey wanted, if Mom was pissed and over it, Mom would cancel everything and drive right back down the mountain and be done.
But she wasn’t.
She was sticking close.
In Prescott.
To him.
All right, so it was less telling and more Chloe twisting it to what she needed to be.
But she didn’t think she was too far off the mark, if not hitting the bullseye.
“You’re not to get involved,” her father said in Dad Voice.
Uh-oh.
“Dad—”
“Chloe, I know you. If there’s no drama, you create it. And losing Corey, especially him taking his own life, now whatever happened with this, she’s had enough drama for a while, don’t you think?”
“There’s good drama and bad drama, Dad.”
“Says only you.”
Chloe could debate that, but now was not the time.
“I’m driving, so maybe now isn’t a good time to have an annoying conversation with my dad.”
“Honey, leave it alone.”
She was not going to lie outright to her father.
But she was not above a sin by omission.
Thus, she said nothing.
“Chloe, did you hear me?”
“I heard you, Dad.”
“Christ, I could have skipped a generation of another one of your grandmother. It’d be cute, having a granddaughter who was a pain in her parents’ ass. A daughter, not so much.”
Chloe fake gasped and said, “I’m wounded, mon père bien-aimé calling me a pain in the ass.”
“Stop speaking French at me.”
“If you didn’t want me to speak French, you shouldn’t have sent me to France.”
“We didn’t think you’d stay there for three years.”
“I can’t imagine why, you’d both been to France, repeatedly. And you both know me, through and through. You knew, once France met me, and I met France, if I didn’t love you so much, which necessitated me returning home occasionally, I would never leave.”
“The worst part about that is, I can’t argue it.”
Chloe grinned.
“Honey, seriously,” he said, and he did it sounding serious, “think