Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“I’ll be ready in fifteen,” she yelled, knowing Maren could hear her. When Devorah and Colt were younger, they constantly yelled back and forth instead of getting up and going to each other’s room to talk. Their parents hated it, but it was an easy form of communication for them.
“May I come in?” Maren asked. Devy slipped the sweater over her head and looked toward the bathroom door, where she suspected her daughter to be. She wasn’t. Dev took a few steps toward the shared bathroom and leaned to the side and saw Maren standing in the doorway on her side of the bathroom.
“Of course.”
Maren walked in, wearing jeans and a similar sweater. “You look refreshed.”
“Thanks. Are you mothering me?”
Maren nodded and inhaled deeply. Dev knew this was her daughter’s way of warding off tears. Chad had hated it when Maren would cry over anything he thought was trivial, so Maren had taught herself to “suck it up,” according to her father.
Devy held her arms out for her daughter. They hugged tightly, each rubbing a hand down the other’s back. “I’m just so sad. I think Daddy is sad too.”
She froze at her daughter’s words. How would Maren know Chad was sad? He hadn’t called, which only exacerbated how Dev felt about him. He should have been calling his daughter every day, checking in, and seeing how she was coping after his epic failure as a man.
“What do you mean?” She leaned back slightly but not enough to let go of her daughter. Maren was her lifeline. Her reason for being any semblance of human these days.
“Daddy called while you were in the shower.”
“Wha—” Devorah caught herself. This was a good thing—him calling to talk to Maren—but it stung. Dev was sad. Angry. Confused. Pissed off. And every emotion in between. Days had passed, and Chad hadn’t even reached out. At least that was what she’d thought.
Deep down, Devy had expected him to and hoped he would. She wanted to hear his voice, hear him tell her how sorry he was for everything, to listen to him cry on the phone and say how he missed her and Maren and wanted them to come home. Those words needed to come from him to her.
He would never. Groveling and accepting responsibility were beneath him.
As much as it pained her, she had to put her feelings toward Chad aside and do what was best for their daughter. Maren was the only priority.
Devorah inhaled deeply, looked into her daughter’s eyes, and cupped her cheek softly. “Did you have a good chat with your dad?”
Maren shrugged. “He asked a lot of questions about Oyster Bay. You and Grandpa.”
“Did he ask about school? How you are?”
She shook her head.
Devy’s heart sank for her daughter.
“He asked if we were done visiting.”
Visiting? Is that what Chad thought they were doing?
Devorah ran her hand down Maren’s silky hair. “I’m glad you got to speak to him.”
Maren nodded and rested her head on her mother’s chest, hugging her tighter.
Once they returned to Chicago, Devorah would do so with more questions than answers. Being in Oyster Bay was nothing more than an escape from the scrutiny and finger-pointing.
The two parted, and Devorah finished dressing before following Maren into the bathroom. Maren plugged the hairdryer in and motioned for her mom to sit on the toilet. Devy closed her eyes and tried to relax while Maren brushed and dried her hair. She thought about Chad, Maren, and herself as a family and tried to recall happy memories.
They’d had some lovely family vacations—vacations where Chad would spend hours supposedly working, and Devorah and Maren would go out on their own to explore wherever they were.
Family vacations that included Ester because she was all alone when Rita went to her father’s house during vacations.
Realization hit Devorah square in the chest. When Chad worked, Ester never felt well. It was never Dev, Maren, and Ester.
Ever.
Devorah wanted to throw up. Chad was a liar, and he’d ruined every happy memory she had. The affair was right there in front of her face, but she’d been too blind and trusting to see everything. She forced the nausea down and focused on the fact that she and Maren were together.
The sensation of Maren’s fingers running through her hair, mixed with the soft sounds of the hairdryer, almost lulled her to sleep. Her eyes snapped open when everything stopped.
“Can I put a little makeup on?”
“Sure. Do you want me to do it for you?”
Maren nodded. They switched places, and Devorah put some blush on Maren’s cheeks, added a light dusting of eye shadow on her lids, and coated her lips in a soft baby-pink gloss. She told her daughter to blot and aimed the tissue at her lips.
“You’re really so beautiful, you’ll probably never need makeup.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah.” Devorah smiled softly. “I never really wore much until college.”