middle of that. “Like you said. Too much energy. Maybe you can go see her when you get your walking cast.”
“Or not,” Cassidy muttered as Esmerelda appeared with a tray of chocolate martinis. She passed them out and excused herself.
Daisy sipped hers, then sighed. “Perfect, as always.” She set it on the end table. “Sage, do you think your mom was in love with my dad?”
“Not when they got married, but definitely by the time he asked for a divorce. Somewhere along the way, she fell for him. She was very upset that he wanted to end things.”
More than upset, Sage thought, remembering her mother screaming and sobbing, begging Wallace to give her another chance, swearing she would do anything to make him happy.
“It wasn’t just about the money?” Daisy asked, sounding oddly hopeful.
“Not at the end. They had difficulties for about a year before they split up. He started withdrawing.”
“How do you know that?” Cassidy asked.
“She told me. As you may recall, our mother doesn’t respect boundaries—at least not anyone else’s.” Sage shrugged. “At first he was a little distant, but then he kind of disappeared from their relationship. She was frantic—she knew he was slipping away. And then, suddenly, he was gone.”
Daisy made a sound low in her throat. Cassidy spun toward her.
“What?”
Sage was surprised to see tears in Daisy’s eyes.
“It’s my fault,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “The divorce. I didn’t get it until a couple of days ago, but it’s on me.”
“What are you talking about?” Sage asked. “You were thirteen. It can’t be on you.”
“She hit me.”
Sage stared at Daisy. “My mom?”
Daisy nodded, hugging her arms close, as if even now she had to protect herself. “I’d forgotten what happened. Or repressed it. I just remembered the other day.” She sucked in a breath. “It was a couple of weeks before they split up. Joanne and I were arguing in the kitchen and she was so mad at me. She was making a salad and she hit me with a wooden spoon.”
Daisy swallowed. “I was immobilized by shock or something, because at first I didn’t do anything. She kept hitting me. It hurt so much. Finally I ran and hid in my room, but I couldn’t stop crying. My dad found me and saw the welts. He got really quiet.”
Cassidy looked between them. “Holy shit!” she said, horror filling her voice. “Are you okay?”
“Now?” Daisy managed a smile. “I’ve recovered.”
Sage didn’t know what to say. Her mother had slapped her a few times—mostly across the face, but only with the back of her hand. Never with anything that would leave a mark.
“I was there when they told you about the divorce,” Daisy said and looked at Cassidy. “You were so small. You had no idea what it meant but you knew it was bad.”
Cassidy swallowed. “I remember,” she said, her voice low. “I started to go to you, but Mom pulled me back. She said I shouldn’t depend on you anymore. She said you weren’t to be trusted.”
“Jesus.” Sage took a big gulp of her martini. “Where was I when this happened?” She held up her hand. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” She turned to Daisy. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I know it’s not my fault, but it feels that way.”
Sage shook her head. “Wallace was already pulling back. By then he had to regret the marriage. Things would have ended between them regardless.”
Daisy picked up her glass, then put it down. “Jordan has said I pull back. He talks about how I don’t care about him and that he can’t get my attention. He’s never specific, which makes it hard to talk about. I wonder if I’m doing to him what my dad did to Joanne.”
“No,” Sage said firmly. “You’re not.”
Despite the seriousness of the discussion, Daisy smiled. “You know this how?”
“I know you. You’re not passive-aggressive. You do what has to be done, even when you don’t want to. Plus, you don’t want your marriage to be over. You’re upset that he’s gone and you’re angry that he’s putting you through all this. If you weren’t still in love with him, you wouldn’t care what he did.”
“Wow,” Cassidy said, her voice admiring. “That’s deep.”
“I agree,” Daisy admitted. “But maybe I do withdraw around Jordan.”
“You get mad to my face,” Sage pointed out. “Is it different with him?”
“Sometimes it’s not worth the fight, but that’s mostly when I’m tired. After he texted me he’d moved to a house, I confronted him. Not that