Shock - Marie Johnston Page 0,13

was just, uh… I was waiting for you.”

“Safety in numbers?” I mutter and she scowls but it quickly disappears. Lia’s hand slips into mine and I give it a squeeze, grateful for the support.

Mom begrudgingly nods. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Or they’ll ignore us and it’ll be painfully awkward.”

“Ford Monroe,” Mom huffs, but she knows I’m right. Trying not to be assholes when they cross paths at the grocery store is different than giving Mom the time of day at a big family event. She glances at Lia. “Thank you for coming.”

The change in Mom is subtle, but it’s there. Pride. A woman of Lia’s caliber is here with me, and now Mom can show us off here, among people she’s forever failed to impress.

“It’s my pleasure,” Lia says warmly. “What’s dating if there aren’t awkward wedding dances involved?”

Mom’s laugh surprises her as much as me and she starts for the door of the venue, her feet lighter than a minute ago. I give Lia a grateful smile and ignore the spark in my chest. Cass would’ve said something vaguely insulting and bitched to me about the wedding all night, if she even talked to me again the rest of the night.

It’s quiet in the event center but an usher waits for us and leads us through to the courtyard behind the building. The sun is out with a few fluffy clouds in the sky, as if one of the guests ordered up perfect weather for an outdoor wedding as a gift to the bride and groom. A white canopy stretches over several rows of chairs with an elegant floral archway on one end. People I don’t recognize mill around, all dressed similarly to me in my casual blue suit and Lia in her soft dress.

Mom’s steps falter when she sees the mother of the bride flitting around the crowd, happier than a hummingbird guzzling nectar. Lia and I fall in step next to her, pillars of support. During her marriage, Mom was vilified by my stepsiblings. All they knew was that their dad had left their mom and moved on to another woman. All they saw was me living with him full-time while they only got him part of the time. They didn’t know he ignored me most of my life—if I was lucky. The unlucky times, he needled and picked at all my insecurities. He was good at that.

After my stepdad’s secrets were exposed, she was humiliated. I only know a portion of her pain. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve known that his business trips were nothing more than stereotypical write-offs with other women.

My stepbrother breaks away from the group. Several years older than me, his eyes crinkle as he greets Mom. His smile seems genuine, and for once I see him as a thirty-six-year-old man and not a petulant fifteen-year-old.

“Maggie. How nice to see you.” Ryan lifts his gaze to me and extends his hand. “Ford.”

“Ryan. This is Lia Wescott.”

Ryan shakes my hand, his curious gaze on Lia, full of obvious questions that are more insulting than I care to admit. Did I pick her up last night at some bar and convince her to come today? Is she the type to get drunk and make a scene? There’s no way she’s as refined as she looks if she’s my date.

I answer some of the questions. “Lia and I are also partners on the ambulance. We’re dating.”

Mild shock registers on his face. “Ah. Lia. That’s why your name’s so familiar. Maggie’s mentioned you a time or two.”

She has? No, I’m not shocked Mom talks about me. But Ryan remembered? I prepare myself for a subtle dig, or a not so subtle one like what he used to do when we were kids, but nothing comes.

“Nice to meet you,” Lia’s warm tone puts all of us at ease. “Lovely venue.”

Ryan shoves his hands in his pockets. “Yes, well, Karoline has exceptional taste. She takes after our mother that way.”

My smile tightens. Ryan might not have meant that as a dig toward Mom, that his dad had shit taste, but I can’t help my reaction.

I take Mom’s elbow and tug Lia with me at the same time. “We’ll find our seats. Thanks, Ryan.”

When we’re several feet away, Mom mutters, “That went better than I hoped, but I guess I haven’t talked to them much in the last few years.”

“I still don’t trust him.”

Mom pats my arm. “He was an angry kid and a bitter young man. Maybe