A Mother's Lie - Sarah Zettel Page 0,63

any media attention that might arise. And it wouldn’t be the first time Beth had needed to finesse her own story for public consumption.

Beth started collecting her things. She needed to get home. She had left Dana alone too long as it was. She lit up her phone and texted:

Heading home. All okay there?

She looked at the emoji for a while, seeking reassurance. There was still this nagging whisper in her head that it had gone too well. That maybe she’d misjudged her father or overplayed her hand.

But she couldn’t do anything more about her parents until tomorrow at the very earliest. Right now, she had to focus on the other half of this fine mess.

She had to find out if Dad really was behind Doug’s money troubles, or if her ex coming to her for help now was just a coincidence. Not that Doug would ever voluntarily admit anything. And of course, neither would Todd.

So, she would just have to go around them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Dana?” Mom knocked on her bedroom door. “Dana, I’ve got some news.”

Shit. Now what?

Worry stabbed at her. Last night, Mom had come home grim but hopeful from meeting Todd. She hadn’t wanted to go into details, but that just made it easier for Dana to put the plan she’d worked out into action.

Step One—explain very calmly and rationally why she should be allowed to go to the Vine and Horn on her own to explain why she was pulling out of the internship at the last minute.

“I still might have a chance to work there,” she’d pointed out. “I can’t go in with my mom following me around like I’m just some irresponsible kid.”

She’d expected hours of wrangling and maybe even having to throw a full-bore tantrum. But Mom had agreed almost right away. In fact, she’d maybe even looked a little relieved.

Except maybe this morning, she’d changed her mind.

“Come in!” Dana called.

The door opened and Dana’s heart sank. Mom really looked like she was having second thoughts. No, no, you can’t. I have to do this…

“I just got a call from the hospital.” Mom cut through her rising panic. “Jeannie’s labs came back this morning.”

“What do they say?”

Mom shook her head. “They can’t talk about it over the phone. Privacy regulations. But after I drop you off at the restaurant, I’m going to talk with the doctors, okay?”

“Can I come meet you after I’m done? I want to see Jeannie.”

Mom hesitated. “I don’t know how long this will take. But text me as soon as you’re done. I’ll come get you, and we’ll head straight back, okay?”

“I can get a Lyft…” But Dana knew that was a nonstarter before she finished the sentence.

“Humor me,” said Mom. “I’m having a tough enough time letting you out of my sight today as it is.”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” Even as she said it, though, Dana felt there was something…off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there. But it wasn’t like she could argue. She had to take whatever breathing room Mom was willing to give her.

Mom was already hesitating. “And swear you’ll stay put until I come get you. You won’t go anywhere with anybody?”

“Swear.” Dana crossed her heart. “Stranger danger. Three steps back and run like the wind. And it’s not like the place is going to be empty,” she added as she pulled on her school blazer. “There’s going to be, like, a zillion people around with knives and fire.”

That actually got Mom to smile. “Phone?” she said.

Dana flipped open one side of the blazer to show her the lining and the hidden pocket.

“Mad money?”

Dana flipped open the other side.

“Text time? Because you’re humoring me,” she added when she saw Dana’s eye roll.

“Four thirty, on the dot,” Dana recited. “Today and every day.”

“Love you, Dangerface.”

“Love you, Mom.

Dana turned away. Time for Step Two.

“Well, we’ll be sorry not to have you with us, Dana.” Ramona Lee, the manager of Vine and Horn, closed the manila folder in front of her. “But we all understand family has to come first. Hopefully, you’ll be able to reapply next summer.”

Next summer. Dana repeated the words to herself. Next summer. First we deal with the shit storm.

Dana smiled and said thanks and sure and good-bye and all the other polite stuff she should. She picked up her purse and let herself be steered out of the cramped office, through the busy kitchen, and into the empty dining room. It was Monday, and the restaurant was closed, although you’d