Page 68 of Passing Notes
Nick was quite impersonal with the introduction, and it stung more than I cared to admit.
I knew he was dropping them off with Morgan today, but I didn’t know he’d planned on staying here to hang out with them.
“Hey there, Clara.” Morgan took my hand as she looked me up and down. “I’m waiting for your RSVP. Still coming to the wedding with Nick?”
“She is,” he answered for me.
“This is Malcolm, Morgan’s fiancé.” Nick gestured to Malcolm and my brain short-circuited as I took his hand to shake it. Her fiancé?
From now on I’d have to start communicating from the afterlife, because I think I just died.
“Nice to meet you,” I muttered. “Kids, I’d love to stay and chat with you, maybe go on a ride or something, but I’m in a rush. I have to go check on a sick friend.”
Thank you, Mari. I’m sorry you’re sick, but you’ve just become the perfect excuse to get the hell out of here.
We’d planned to tell the kids about us at some point after the festival, but Nick didn’t have to be so distant. He hadn’t even met my eyes, and his smile was barely there. He could at least pretend to be my friend in public, right? I rubbed a circle over my chest and took a step back. I had to get out of here; nothing good was about to happen, I could tell.
I turned tail and left, practically running to the parking lot to find Mari. It was hard not to look over my shoulder like a paranoid freak to make sure that asshole Malcolm wasn’t following me.
I wanted to get in my car and leave but I had to work the booth with Momma and Gracie. Damn it.
I found Mari in her car, asleep. I knocked on the window and she startled awake; she waved and started mumbling. Poor Mari looked terrible but alive. I snapped a pic and sent it to Leonard, then made my way back to the booth, stealth mode, stopping at all the fried treat stands on the way.
By the time I’d made it back to Gracie, I’d stress eaten half of what I’d bought and was about to recreate my stomach-flu-induced, technicolor yawn from the other day all over the pavement.
“Here you go. Whatever you do, do not eat as much as I did on the way back here.”
“Uh, okay? I’ll pace myself. You look like you are about to lose your shit—or toss your cookies.” Gracie snickered. “What happened? Too much food, or did you see an enemy? Between the two of us, we have so many here. How scandalous and exciting are we?”
“Where’s Momma?” All that talk about not shooting anyone would go right out the window when she found out how freaked out I was over Malcolm.
“She saw Marianne and her mother over by the tilt-a-whirl. She’s busy doling out pieces of her mind over there.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I don’t even care anymore. As long as Marianne leaves me alone, I’m fine. It’s also kind of nice to have my actual mother handling a problem for me. What a novel idea, right?”
I reached across the counter and hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Gracie. But also, it’s good she’s helping now. I wish I knew the right thing to say about this.” With a family as screwed up as ours, triggers were everywhere. I’m glad I was here for this one.
“You say plenty of the right things and you always have. I’m sorry I didn’t go to her in the beginning. You’re a substitute teacher because of me, for eff’s sake. Like, what the hell?” She huffed a laugh.
“Hey. No apologies. I’m spending a lot of time with you every day because you came to me, and I love it. Please look at it that way.”
“I have the best big sisters in the entire world. Give me a funnel cake before I start crying like an idiot.” She snatched one of the bags from my hand and dug around inside. “I’m already missing Weston today. We came to this stupid festival together last year.”
“I’m so sorry about Weston, sweetheart. It’s okay to cry sometimes, Gracie.” I bumped her shoulder conspiratorially. “Let it out. Crying Hill sister sightings are not unusual around Green Valley, no one will blink an eye.”
She wiped her eyes, laughed, and took a bite of her treat. “You got that right.” She took a deep breath. “I think I’m okay now. Saying it out loud made me feel better. Funny how that works, isn’t it?” she mused with her eyebrows up.
“Ugh, fine, you’re right. I have news, too—the unbelievable, horrifying kind. Malcolm is engaged to Nick’s ex. How do you like them apples? I can’t even process this right now.”
“No,” she gasped. “What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea. Crawl under a rock? Check myself into a hospital somewhere in Timbuktu for mental exhaustion? Take up permanent residence in my closet?” I threw my arms in the air in exasperation. “What the hell, Gracie? I’m freaking out.”
“I know. Go get some popcorn and tell Momma all about it. She’s in a fixin’ kind of mood today. I say let her take care of him.”
I burst into hysterical laughter. “I almost want to. But no, what I really want to do is go home and think. I don’t want to see him.”