asked her to live with him—well, not with him but with him. God, she hated men.
“I’m Regan Martin.”
Isabel gave Regan a long, thorough examination, her brows furrowing, which looked bizarre since her forehead didn’t move. “Have we met?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Stanford, class of—”
“Nope.” Try Clovisville High, class of not all that long ago.
There went the unmoving forehead again. “Are you sure? You look so familiar and I never forget a face.”
Maybe it was when I was dancing with your date? God, even if the woman grated on Regan’s every nerve, no one deserved to see another woman dancing with their date. Time to say sorry. “I think we may have been at the same party—”
“Mommy,” Holly called, she and her three friends bounding up, their little pigtails and curly poofs bouncing with every step. “This is Summer, Lauren, and Chloe. And we’re the...” Holly stopped.
All four girls looked at each other for a quick second, their faces scrunched in confusion, then Lauren directed as they scrambled around until they were in a straight line, ranging from shortest to tallest, with Holly being on the shortest side and Lauren on the tallest. Isabel smiled proudly at her daughter’s ability to lead.
“And we’re the...” Lauren repeated Holly’s earlier words.
“B.” Holly punched her fist forward like she was some superhero. There was a blue B drawn on her knuckles.
“F.” Summer followed with the announcement and fist pump.
“F.” Chloe pumped.
“Ssssssssss...” Lauren finished, dragging out the letter like a snake. All four girls slithered down to the ground before erupting into giggles once more.
God, she loved her kid.
Isabel, however, made a horrified gasp. Her hand, shy one wedding band, clutched at her surgically enhanced chest. “Lauren, you were always the B.”
“But Holly’s the smallest so we gave her the biggest letter. It’s only fair.” Lauren beamed. The kid obviously had a great father.
Isabel stood behind her daughter, eyes firmly on Regan. “She’s been the B since Mommy and Me.”
“Mrs. Abby said it was a good friend thing to do,” Lauren said, her smile dimming.
Regan’s smile did more than dim. “Abby?”
“Our music teacher,” Holly said, looking at Regan as if she had lost her mind.
Her mind? No. But her breakfast? A distinct possibility.
“I thought her name was Mrs. Dee.” Because the universe could not be that cruel.
“D,” Isabel once again enunciated slowly, this time as if Regan was phonetically challenged. “As in DeLuca. Abby and I go way back. She was the F to my B.”
“I didn’t know she taught here. Wait, doesn’t she live in Santa Barbara?”
“She moved back a few months ago and, no, she doesn’t work here. The play is held in the school’s performing arts center, but it is a community event, and the DeLuca family has always been amazing about giving back. And as you could imagine, I was ecstatic when good old Abs volunteered to run the musical this year. Just ecstatic. Isn’t that right, Lauren?”
Lauren nodded hesitantly, her little eyes darting back and forth between the adults. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but the girl instinctively knew that something was off in Frogtown. And that she had just been pushed neck deep in it.
Had Regan not been hyperaware of every adult in the hallway with dark curly hair and brown eyes, or scanning for every exit within a fifty-foot radius, she would have said something to break the tension. Instead she kissed Holly’s head and hugged her tightly.
“I have to get to work, angel. See you after school.”
“Aren’t you coming to the parent meeting?” Isabel asked. “It concerns the Christmas musical. We’re doling out what still needs to be done. Every year the parents rally together and volunteer for various positions. It’s what makes St. Helena such a wonderful community.”
Holly looked at the floor. She knew the drill. Working mommies didn’t go to midmorning meetings. They didn’t have time to make sets or sew costumes. They barely made it to the performance.
Regan wanted to go to that stupid parent meeting, just for Holly, but as it was, she was already going to be late for her first day of work. Not to mention, she would rather eat glass than face Abigail right now. She had no idea how much Gabe’s sister knew, if she would even recognize Regan, or if she knew Holly was Richard’s. The month after Regan discovered Richard was married, she had sent Abigail a letter apologizing and explaining that she hadn’t known he was married. The letter had come back unopened: Return to