As soon as I opened the passenger side door of my mom’s white BMW, Veronica hit play on her phone, and “Sucker” by the Jonas Brothers blared out. She danced around on the grass, spinning in circles and shaking the sign, her tunic shirt billowing with the movement.

  I joined her on the grass, letting the upbeat tune fill my soul, immediately finding my groove and singing very off-key at the top of my lungs.

  Even Mom got in on the action, busting out her Zumba moves to the music.

  As soon as the song ended, Veronica threw down the sign and went to wrap her arms around me. I was already heading toward her, moving with way too much force, so we collided with one another, both falling to the ground. Somehow, we kept our arms around each other in the process, and we hugged each other tight as we lay there on the lawn.

  Veronica kissed my cheek about five times before she spoke. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  I squeezed her cheek against mine. “Let’s never part again.”

  “Deal.”

  Gramps cleared his throat, and I looked up to see him staring down at us with an amused smile. “Do we get hugs, too? Or are you only excited to see Veronica?” His rumbly voice was music to my ears.

  Smiling, I scrambled to my feet and threw my arms around Gramps’ neck, burying my head into his neck and breathing in his woodsy cologne.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Gramps.”

  His cool lips found my forehead, giving me a kiss. “Oh, my sweet Daphne girl.” He pulled back and looked over at Grams. “That’s it. We’re staying.”

  Grams rolled her eyes at him before she gave me a tight hug, swaying me side to side. “You look absolutely beautiful, young lady.” Kissing my cheek—and for sure leaving behind a pink lips mark—she put her arm around my shoulder. “And as much as I’d love to, we’re not staying.” She smelled like lipstick, hairspray, and floral perfume all wrapped into one. How I’d always remembered her.

  Veronica bounded up from the grass and brushed off the back of her jeans. “Where’s the first stop?”

  “London,” Grams said with a grin.

  “Then on to Scotland, Paris, Italy, Spain, and anywhere else we can go.” Gramps popped a lozenge into his mouth. “I’m personally looking forward to Croatia and Greece.”

  “Sweden for me,” Grams put in. “That’s where my family is from. Can’t wait to do some family history while we’re there.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Veronica said with obvious sarcasm.

  Mom bounced on her toes. “As lovely as this is, I really gotta pee. How about we go inside?” She hurried in before any of us could answer.

  “I made lasagna,” Grams said as we walked toward the house.

  Veronica and I both did a fist pump. Grams and Gramps were basically the greatest cooks ever, and I wanted them to stay for that reason alone. But they really wanted to travel, and they deserved to. They’d never left the United States. All their focus had been on their shop and family, making sure everyone was well provided for.

  As Gramps and Veronica went to unloading our suitcases from the car, Grams showed me to my room. It had been a few years since we’d come back to visit. Mom was so busy with work, and me with my online shop. I sold handmade sling bags, trying to save up to buy my own car.

  I stopped short in the entryway to my room, surprised. “You redecorated.”

  Grams cautiously watched my face, her lips pursing in concern the longer the silence spaced out. She fiddled with her long necklace, clearly uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to say something, but I ran into the room and shook my hips in a dance. “Happy” by Pharrell Williams blasted in my head, so I shimmied back and forth, humming along.

  “This. Is. Amazing!”

  Grams had taken all my favorite things—Care Bears, Captain America, the color magenta, and Cherry Coke—and created a hodgepodge of decoration. It was all mismatched and so random—like the vintage Captain America figurine on the nightstand. There was even a hammock chair hanging from the ceiling, and I knew I’d spend a lot of time there.

  “I love it, Grams.” I threw my arms around her, and she sagged under me in relief. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  She pulled back and glanced around the room, the corners of her eyes tightening. “Trust me, it killed me to decorate it this way. I mean, there’s no flow or theme.” She ran her wrinkly hand down my wavy hair. “But I knew it was perfectly Daphne.”

  I sat down on the full-sized bed, taking one of the stuffed Care Bears lining the Captain America headboard into my arms. I squeezed it close. “Hey, Grams?”

  She sat next to me on the bed. “Yes?”

  Glancing around, I took in every detail. So much time had to have been put into this room. “Mom’s been planning this move for a while, hasn’t she?”

  She smiled sheepishly. “She knew that the more time you had to think about it, the more the anxiety would build inside you, and you’d completely stress yourself out.” She put her arm around me. “Besides, you always loved an adventure.”

  True. There had been something really exciting about a spur-of-the-moment move, rushing to only grab the essentials. It was like prepping for the zombie apocalypse, only without the stupid flesh-eating zombies.

  I leaned my head against her shoulder. “Do you really have to leave tomorrow? Can’t you at least stay a couple of weeks?”

  “We got a great deal on the airfare that we couldn’t pass up. Besides, Gramps and I got an international phone plan. We can video chat all you want.”

  “But the time difference.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” She stood and tugged me up with her. “We’ve got the whole evening to party. Let’s make the most of it.” She winked at me. “I made cherry pie as well.”

  My favorite. She always did it just right. Plus, the homemade whipped cream? To die for.

  I let go of her hand, ran out of the room, and sprinted down the hall, my arms flailing. “I’m coming, pie!”

  Chapter Three

  We dropped Grams and Gramps off at the airport the next morning. We were almost home when I got a video call from Gramps.

  “Miss me already?” I asked.

  Gramps smiled at me from his seat on the airplane. “Of course. Had to hear your voice one last time before we left.” He moved the camera, so Grams was also in view.

  I did the same, so they could see Mom in the driver’s seat. She waved at the phone without taking her eyes off the road.

  I’d pulled the screen back enough that my shirt was showing.

  “Why are you wearing that shirt?” Gramps asked with a frown.

  After we got back in the car, I’d taken off my sweater, so they hadn’t seen what shirt I was wearing when we were at the airport.

  I motioned to the Grumpy Care Bear on my shirt. He was frowning, matching with the clouds and raindrops on his stomach. “It’s a reflection of my mood. This is how I feel about you leaving.”

  “In a couple of weeks, you won’t even notice we’re gone,” Grams said, shifting closer to Gramps.

  “Not true,” I said. “You kids have fun on your trip. Take tons of pictures and send them to me.”

  “And have some gelato for me when you get to Italy!” Mom talked way louder than she needed to. She wasn’t that far away from the phone.

  Mom and Dad had gone to Italy on their honeymoon, and then returned for a second trip on their ten-year anniversary. It was definitely on my bucket list.

  Gramps shook his finger at the screen. “Don’t you two girls go ruining the house. No wild parties.”

  Mom frowned. “Guess I’ll have to cancel the kegger I was planning for tonight.”

  I patted her arm, fake-consoling her. “I’ll cancel the strippers for you as well.”

  Grams busted out laughing, but Gramps just continued to scowl at us.

  Mom rolled her eyes. “When have I ever had a kegger?”

  Gramps scratched his beard. “Let’s see. When was that? Nineteen eighty-something.”

  “That was Shannon!” Mom said. “Wrong kid, Dad.”

  He narrowed his eyes, his bushy gray eyebrows coming together. “Oh, that’s right. Sorry. I always get you two confused.”

  “Yes, I can see why the different hair color and height, plus the eight-year age difference, would confuse you.” Mom’s words oozed sarcasm.

  Grams and I both laughed.

  We pulled into our subdivision.

  Mom waved her fingers at the phone. “Love you guys! Have so much fun!”

  “Love you, too, sweetie,” Grams said through her chuckles. “We’ll text you when we land.”

  Gramps blew us a kiss. “Love you, my favorite girls.”

  “Tell the pilot to fly safe!” I got in before he hung up the phone.

  Mom glanced sideways at me. “Yes, I’m sure the pilot would love your Gramps knocking on the cockpit door with that piece of advice.”

  I shrugged. “Could be helpful.” I opened the door and got out, stretching my arms over my head after I shut the door. I adjusted my magenta handmade bag slung around my body. “We should have stopped for breakfast.”

  Mom paused on the driver’s side. “We should have.” She checked her watch. “We could go back out. The only thing planned today is to unpack.” She grinned at me. “Tomorrow, the true fun begins.”

  I tapped the top of the car with my knuckles. “Yeah, about that. I was thinking homeschool.”

  Mom tilted her head to the side. “You’ll get to see Veronica at school.”

  “Yes, but there will also be other people attending said school.”

  “Cute boys.”

  I twisted my lips to the side. “Tempting.”

  “Laura Fletcher?” A woman shouted from behind me. I whipped around to see a middle-aged woman in the driveway next to us. She had her hand on her chest, her jaw dropped in shock.

  Mom came out from around the car. “Kimber?” Her whole body had gone rigid, an irritation painted on her face that even I hadn’t ever conjured up, and I drove her crazy all the time.

  Kimber sauntered closer, her high heels clicking on the pavement. She swept her curly, brown hair behind her shoulder. “Laura. Fletcher. Here in the flesh.”

  “Richards.” Mom’s voice was as tight as the lines on her face. “It’s Laura Richards now.”

  I took a step back so I could get a better view of the stare-down, clutching the strap of my bag against my chest. I had no idea who this lady was, but I did know Mom hated her with a fiery passion, and Mom didn’t hate anyone.

  “Mama Said Knock You Out” by LL Cool J started up in my head, and I found myself bopping my head to the beat, my foot tapping against the pavement. Music had always been my emotional outlet. My way to help deal with anxiety. So, songs randomly popped into my mind, creating the soundtrack my mood needed.

  Kimber clucked her tongue. Even from where I stood, I could see her nostrils flaring. If it weren’t for the row of bushes separating the driveways, I had a feeling there would be a throw-down going on right now.

  “Right.” Kimber wiped below her lip like she was trying to highlight her thick, red lips. “How’s Ian?”

  The anger from Mom’s face melted a little, replaced by the sorrow that always resided in her eyes when Dad was brought up. “He passed away a few years ago. Cancer.”

  The fire faded from Kimber’s eyes as well. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was,” Mom said.

  Well, at least they agreed on that much.

  “Mom, have you seen my black …” A girl my age jogged onto the driveway, trailing off when she saw Mom and me. “Hey.”

  Releasing the death-grip on my bag strap, I waved at her. “Hey.”

  The girl had her dyed-black hair up in a high ponytail, her lipstick as red as her mom’s. She wore a conservative red cotton dress, and her feet were bare.

  “Sierra,” Kimber said. “Back inside.”

  “We’re going to be late for church,” Sierra said, snapping out of her trance.

  Mom’s fingers twitched, and I could tell she was doing everything in her power not to rub her forehead, something she did when she was upset. “So, I guess we’re neighbors now.”

  Kimber’s eyes flared, all the fire rushing back. “You live here?”

  “I’m assuming you met my parents,” Mom said, taking a step closer to her, and, boy, was I thankful for that row of bushes separating them. “You had to have put two and two together.”

  Kimber tilted her chin up ever so slightly. “Just because their last name is Fletcher doesn’t automatically make them your parents. Besides, we’ve only been here about nine months. We’re still getting to know the neighborhood.”

  Sierra tugged on the sleeve of her mom’s dress. “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Kimber swept out a hand. “Meet our new neighbors. Laura Richards, and …” Her gaze wandered over to me, and a whole new look crossed her face—disgust.

  Ouch. No one had ever looked at me like they wanted to puke before. Well, except Jake from middle school, but the guy was a complete moron, so he didn’t count.

  I almost reached back so I could grab some hair and twirl it around my finger—nervous habit—but Mom wouldn’t like that, and I had this overwhelming sensation not to do anything to embarrass her at the moment.

  Mom wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder, making me come closer to her. “This is my daughter, Daphne.”

  “She looks just like you did,” Kimber said.

  Ah. So that was why she hated the sight of me.

  “I’m taking it you’ve met?” Sierra asked, curiosity written all over her.

  “We went to high school together,” Kimber said.

  I waved again at Sierra. “Daphne.”

  “Sierra. What grade are you in?”

  “Eleventh.”

  A natural smile found its way to her thick lips. “Me, too. I can come by later today, and we can talk about school and stuff if you want.”

  I opened my mouth to agree, but both Mom and Kimber spoke at the same time. “No!”

  Sierra and I both whipped our heads toward our moms.

  “Uh, why not?” I asked.

  “You have Veronica,” Mom said, her smile strained. “You don’t need a second opinion.”

  Kimber spoke loudly to her daughter, so Mom and I could hear. “You must be careful who you acquaint yourself with, Sierra. It would be best to leave the Richards family alone.”

  So much disdain dripped from her voice.

  Sierra looked as confused as I felt. She licked her lips. “Well, we have to go. Church, remember?”

  “Right.” Kimber lifted her chin again, pride in her eyes, like going to church made her better than my mom.

  We went to church, too, lady. Not that it mattered.

  Kimber did an about-face and marched to her SUV, snapping at Sierra to go get her father and brother.

  Sierra flinched—I think at the mention of her dad. I wondered what that was all about.

  Mom steered me toward the house.

  “I thought we were getting breakfast,” I mumbled.

  “I’ve lost my appetite,” Mom said.

  As I glanced over my shoulder to Kimber, staring us down from the driver’s seat of her SUV, I suddenly wondered if we’d made a mistake by moving back to California.

  Chapter Four

  Mom immediately went to the beige couch in the living room and plopped down, scrolling through her phone.

  Tossing my bag on the coffee table, I took a hesitant seat next to her, waiting for her to cool down before I spoke. Reaching over, I grabbed the seashell on the end table, turning it over in my hand.

  Grams and Gramps had recently remodeled, going with a beachy theme that looked like something out of an HGTV show. While I loved the look, a part of me was afraid to touch anything and mess up the glam. I gently placed the seashell back on the table, not wanting to break it.

  “There’s a church not too far from here,” Mom said, still scrolling through her phone. “Service starts in an hour.”

  “Are we going to talk about what just happened out there?” I turned toward her, tucking my leg underneath me.

  She stood, slipping her phone into her back pocket. “I have to go get ready.”

  Taking her by the arm, I yanked her back down on the couch next to me. “We can’t ignore this. That was totally crazy. I was seconds away from getting front rows seats to a WWE SmackDown.”

  I mean, I had to know what was going on. Mom and Kimber hated each other, that much was obvious. There were different levels of hatred. First, there was frenemies, the “let’s do our best to be civil to each other in public, but deep down inside, we hate each other, and everyone knows it.” Then there was the snarky-jab level, the “let’s be open-book enemies, always taking jabs at each other online and trying to put the other down with as much snark as possible.” Then there was the loathe level, the “we don’t speak to each other in real life or online, but we cyber-stalk the crap out of each other, making sure my life is better than yours, and if anyone mentions your name, I will take the opportunity to spit upon your very existence.”

  Mom and Kimber went beyond that. They had gone to the uber-hate level, the “I pretend like you don’t even exist, never think about you, never talk about you, and if someone mentions your name, I act like I’ve never heard of it before because you aren’t even worth the tiniest speck of acknowledgment, and I will do everything in my power to protect my daughter from the vileness you exude.” I mean, Kimber didn’t even know Dad had died.

  Mom sighed, sinking back into the couch. “I met Kimber in middle school. We got along just fine but didn’t really run with the same crowd.” She took the phone out of her back pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. “Sophomore year, we had a class together. Your dad sat between us.”

  “I’m not going to like where this is going, am I?”

  “Nope.”

  I pointed to the Grumpy Care Bear on my shirt. “Well, I’m already in the right mood. Hit me. Preferably not SmackDown style.”

  Mom’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Your dad was so charming. I fell for him instantly. But, so did Kimber.”

 

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