Something to Believe In by Jenny B. Jones

Author:Jenny B. Jones [Jones, Jenny B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sweet Pea Productions

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You were doing what?” Four days later, Jeremy turns in his seat in the Burnett theater, as if getting closer will make the truth any less crazy.

“Helping Maxine spy on her Mrs. Silver Texas competition.”

He frowns at my black eye and ultra-sexy nose cast. “You sure grieve weird.”

“It wasn’t my fault. Maxine made me do it. She’s a cult I can’t escape.”

“And clearly an abusive one. Didn’t you break your ankle two years ago?”

“Yeah, doing a heroic deed. But that one was for Frances.” I’d fallen through the roof of a dilapidated snack bar at a condemned drive-in theater in a protest staged by Frances. “You’re thinking of the time Maxine made me climb the water tower for shady purposes, and the fire department had to rescue us. I did have lots of bruises from that. Clearly, I’m a delicate flower. Built of parts and pieces that can’t take a strong wind or a torpedo fall from a tree.” Though this time, I didn’t break anything. My nose was dislocated, popped back in place, then gifted with a stupid cast that looks like a giant breathing strip for snoring. “I was hoping, at the very least, I’d get a nose job out of our accident. I think Audrey Hepburn’s schnoz would look quite nice on my face.”

“Did Mrs. Hardcastle catch you?”

“No. She ran into her back yard just as we raced away. Maxine got her intel, and then we heard a huge lecture from James and Millie.” I also received a round-trip to the emergency room. “This isn’t exactly the cherry on top of my month.”

“I’m glad you’re back.” Jeremy gives me a light hug, careful of my scratches and bruises. “Rehearsal hasn’t been the same without you.”

“I know you’ve missed my powerful one line.”

“I’m sorry about your mom.”

Honestly, I’ve yet to figure out what to say to this. I usually settle for “thank you,” but it’s getting old, and it feels odd to throw gratitude at someone for the sentiment. I’m sorry about my mom, too. I’m sorry she’s gone. I’m sorry we never made things right. And I’m sorry I never got to ask her the hundreds of things that come to me daily since she died. Did she have any memories with her grandparents? What was her favorite fruit? What did little girl Bobbie Ann want to be when she grew up? Did she regret the choices she made and ever wish she could apologize? Did she keep any of my baby pictures or were her belongings nothing more than the small box of useless junk the prison gave me.

Did she ever truly love me?

Jeremy nudges me with his shoulder. “If you need anything, let me know. I have a stash of Reese’s in my dorm room that can help anything that ails.”

“I may take you up on that. But right now, what I need the most is to get back to a regular routine.” I tap my nose. “And not sneezing.”

Dr. Maddox breezes in, his grad assistant scurrying behind him like a frenzied squirrel.

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