Chapters (38)
- 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
- epilogue
“Well, you said you like to write, remember? I figure this would be good to put your first novel in. And I wrote at the back like I did...”
“When you were ten and sneaked “You are pretty” into my notebook,” she finished. “This is so sweet, Chet.” Violet forgot that her tears would destroy her makeup until she saw him staring.
“What happened to you?” he demanded.
“Oh,” she put her hand to her face, “I ran into a door facing. I am such a klutz.” Violet started pushing him toward the door, loving the warmth of his solid chest on her hands even as she hurried to get rid of him. “Thank you, Chet, for the beautiful gift, but you have to go now.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled up a sleeve. His eyes met hers. Violet tried to think of an explanation and her mind went blank.
Chet shook his head and ran his thumb along her jawline without a word.
“Please, Chet, it’s not what you think. I’m fine.” Violet found herself following him to his truck, fighting to appear calm and cheerful. She had lots of practice.
“If it’s not what I think, what is it?” He opened the door with his back to her and waited for an answer.
“I told you. I ran into...”
“You didn’t run into anything, Violet. Please don’t lie to me.” His hands were clutching the steering wheel like it was all that held him together. “Does he even have a Corvette? Did you make that up, too?”
“Of course he does, Chet.” Violet’s mind raced through all the horror Tolly had promised would rain down on her if anyone ever found out. She was putting her daughter at risk. “Look, it wasn’t my husband. It was my friend’s husband. I tried to intervene when he hit her and he attacked me. Tolly and I are not pressing charges because Genny doesn’t want anyone to know...”
Chet’s eyes were full of pain. “All right, Violet. What’s his name?” He was still clutching the steering wheel, twitching his thumbs up and down.
“I can’t tell you. Let it go, Chet.”
“Use that pretty book to write some fiction, Violet. You’re very good at it.” He started the truck and rolled away slowly without another look.
twenty-nine
RONNI
Deanna accompanied me to Mel’s office in Birmingham to bid her cousin goodbye before returning to Florida. Her eyes grew round as we entered the elegant lobby, just as mine had months ago.