Chapters (58)
- Cover
- Praise for Abbi Waxman and her novels
- Berkley Titles by Abbi Waxman
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Summer
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- Fall
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Readers Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Laura, unseen, shook her head a final time and looked out of the window. Her head was starting to pound, overwhelming chagrin snuffing out the hope she’d had that maybe things would be different here.
She was an idiot. Her parents had been right. She never should have come.
ELEVEN
When they pulled up in front of the house, Laura turned to Bob and smiled broadly.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “I was getting pretty hot walking home, I won’t lie.” Yes, she thought, let’s pretend nothing else happened, I’m totally good with that. It’s always worked before.
Bob smiled back at her. “My pleasure. Are you sure you’re OK?” Her color was completely back to normal, and he noticed how her honey-colored hair literally glittered where the sun hit it.
Laura nodded and opened the truck door, climbing out and heading to the house. “Sure, totally. Thanks again.” One more smile, and she was gone.
Bob sat and watched her walk into the house, pretty sure he’d just been lied to.
• • •
As Laura came out of her bathroom a few minutes later—she hadn’t gotten her period, which was so freaking annoying—she almost collided with Maggie, who was heading out for a walk with Herbert.
“Come with me,” said the older woman, not posing a question so much as issuing a request. Laura nodded and turned; she hadn’t really cooled down yet, so she might as well keep going. Bob was still in the driveway, pottering around in the bed of the truck, organizing tools and supplies. Laura had to squint to look up at him.
Maggie paused. “Home for dinner, Bob?”
He nodded. “If it’s not too late.”
“It’s not,” she replied, clipping the leash to Herbert’s collar.
Bob looked at Laura. “Feeling better?” he asked.
“Sure,” she replied quickly, “completely fine.” She still wouldn’t look at him, and hurried after Maggie, who was letting Herbert decide which way to go.
It was by now late afternoon, and it was dappled and pretty under the spreading trees of August Boulevard.
Maggie was excited. “My son will be here for dinner tonight.”
“That’s nice. Does he live in LA?”
“For the last four years he’s been living and working in Japan, and I’ve seen him precisely once in person. We chatted online and Skyped once or twice a month, but the time difference between here and there was very challenging.”
“Where was he?” Laura blushed. “I mean, Japan, I get it, but which city?”