She plunks the sandwiches down with a couple of Cokes.
“Thank you,” I mutter, glad to get that out without stammering.
She regards us with one hand on her hip. “You know, I’ve got kids. Littler than you, but I’ve got kids. Most of us do,” she says, gesturing out the door to the rest of the police station. “What you two did to your parents, you don’t have the faintest idea what that’s like, the hell they were going through. You took years off their lives with this stunt.”
I can feel a blush creep up the back of my neck. I’m sure thinking of my sisters, now. And my dad, and Mom, because I gave her a reason to freak out, this time. I wonder if Casey was worried. Probably.
“Well, eat already. I don’t want your folks thinking we starved you. I’ll check on you later. Juliet, your dad should be here soon.”
Tiffany isn’t eating. She’s just picking at the bread.
I know the feeling. But I eat it anyway, because the officer was nice enough to bring it to us. I don’t want to seem ungrateful.
Chapter 24
Michael
When my dad pulls into the driveway, Casey’s in the shower. I go upstairs to knock on the bathroom door.
“Yeah?” she says.
“Hey, babe,” I say loudly over the sound of the water. “My dad’s here, we’re heading out.”
She pokes her wet head around the curtain. Tendrils of hair are stuck to her forehead. Makes me want to grab her face and kiss her.
“I’ll see if Mallory will go home. Give you some space.”
“See if she will? How about sending her. Dylan’s fine, and this isn’t her house anymore.”
My head starts to throb, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
When I look at Casey again, her face has sagged with resignation. “Sorry. It’s fine.” She pulls the shower curtain back in place with less force than before. “I’ll be fine,” she says over the spray.
I have more to say, but it’s hard to talk over the water.
We’ll talk when I get back, about many things that we’ve put off for too long.
I bribe Jewel with a trip to get doughnuts Sunday morning if she does her homework like a good girl, and make the same offer to Angel, only with lattes.
Angel nods, and then announces she’s going to take a nap. I can see that she’s caked makeup over the bluish hollows under her eyes. I give her a tight hug before she goes.
Mallory is making fresh coffee in the kitchen.
“So,” I say, pulling on my coat and peering toward the front of the house to see if Dad has pulled up. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Mallory is radiant. I haven’t seen her like this since she was pregnant with each kid. “I know! Thank God.”
“So, listen, I can drop you off at your apartment on our way.”
She stops in mid-pour of the coffee. She tries to shove it back in the coffeemaker and misses, sloshing hot coffee all over the counter.
She puts her hand on her hip, eyes squeezed to slits. “Are you throwing me out?”
“The crisis is over.”
“So? I want to be here when he gets home. I don’t want to miss a minute. In fact, I’d insist on going with you if your father didn’t hate me worse than Hitler.”
“I’ll pick you up then, on the way back. You’ll see him even quicker, in the car.”
She looks up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “You are throwing me out. I cannot believe after what we’ve been through the last forty-eight hours—”
“This isn’t your house!” As always with Mallory, my voice is louder than I mean it to be.
“So Casey wants me out, is that it? Can’t handle the ex hanging around? Please. As if I’d want you back.”
“You don’t need to be here.”
“I want to be here, isn’t that enough? What were you saying yesterday, about how of course you want me to spend more time with the kids? If this has taught me anything, it’s that I’ve been too cavalier. Yes, fine, I admit it. I’ve been inconsistent about parenting time. I get migraines, and you know when I don’t feel well what it’s like for me. And for them.” She pauses to stare at me, hard, making sure I understand her code. “But I’ve been through hell, these last two days. That’s my boy, my baby, I carried him in my womb and I thought we’d lost him. Let me unwind with my girls, Mike.”