Apples Never Fall Sneak Peek by Liane Moriarty

Author:Liane Moriarty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

Chapter 3

“Hello there,” said Stan, stunned. He clumsily patted her shoulder.

For the first fraction of a second Joy assumed it was one of their daughters, but this girl barely came up to Stan’s chest. Joy’s children were tall: the boys were six foot four, Amy was six foot, and Brooke was six foot one. They were all broad-shouldered, dark-haired, olive-skinned, scarlet-cheeked, and dimpled, like their father. (“Your children all look like giant Spanish matadors,” Joy’s mother used to say, chidingly, as if Joy had picked them off a shelf.)

This girl was petite, with straggly dirty-blond hair and blue-veined mottled white skin.

“I’m sorry.” The girl stood back, took a shuddery breath, sniffed, and tried to arrange her mouth into the shape of a smile. “I’m so sorry. How embarrassing.”

She had a fresh, deep cut just beneath her right eyebrow. Trails of shiny wet blood trickled down her face.

“It’s fine, darling.” Joy took a firm hold of the girl’s stick-thin upper arm in case she fainted.

She would call her “darling” until she remembered her name. Stan would be no help. She could sense his eyes trying to meet hers: Who the heck is this?

The girl had a tiny seedlike piercing in her nose and a tattoo of a green vine curled around her pale forearm. She wore a threadbare long-sleeved shirt with a spatter of old grease stains on the front and ripped blue jeans. There was a silver key on a chain around her neck. Her bare feet were purple with cold. She was vaguely, blurrily, not quite familiar.

It would be helpful if the girl said her name, but young people always assumed that they’d be remembered. It happened all the time. A young stranger would make a beeline for them, waving delightedly: “Mr. and Mrs. Delaney! How are you? It’s been ages!” Joy would have to bluff her way through the conversation while simultaneously flicking through her mental database: A tennis kid? A club member’s grown-up child? One of the children’s friends?

“What happened to you?” Stan gestured at the girl’s eye. He looked frightened, suddenly elderly. “Is someone out there?” He peered over her shoulder onto the street. It would never have occurred to Joy that there would be someone out there.

“There’s no one out there,” said the girl. “I came in a cab.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, we’ll get you fixed up,” said Joy.

This was very confusing, but it would all become clear. Stan always wanted everything instantly clarified.

Joy guessed the girl to be in her late twenties, the same age as Brooke, but she didn’t look like one of Brooke’s friends, who were busy, polite young women with a lot on their minds. This girl had the grungy look that Amy favored, so it seemed most likely she was one of Amy’s friends. This made it difficult, because Amy moved in a variety of eclectic circles. Someone from that amateur theater group Amy had been so enthusiastic about for at least a week? A university friend? From her first abandoned degree? Second?

“How did you hurt yourself?” asked Joy.

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