Chapter 55

There's often a calm before a storm, and that's exactly how I feel leading up to Sunday's dinner. Jace and I worked, and afterward, he dropped me off at home before popping back to his house to check on his grandpa. He returned ten minutes later, parking his van behind the house as he always does. Usually, we cook together, but tonight, I suggested Jace and Dad continue their Mario Kart tournament that's been going for months. I would've suggested a game of one on one, but I feared Mom would lose it and flee at the mere sound of them playing, and I need her here.

She's my special guest.

Being alone in the kitchen gave me time to think. To plan. To prepare.

By the time six rolls around, I have everything ready. The food. The table. Myself.

A few minutes after six, Mom shows up, entering the house as if she lives here.

She doesn't.

She lives with him, in another life far detached from the family she created. Dad and Jace stand when she enters, and I greet her with a kiss on the cheek that causes bile to rise to my throat. Dad and Jace move from the living room to the entryway, and her eyes widen at Jace's presence. Mom turns to me, saying, "You didn't tell me we'd have a guest." She doesn't introduce herself to Jace, doesn't shake his hand or ask how he is. She just turns her nose up at him and focuses on Dad.

He kisses her cheek, and I wonder if it makes him feel as sick as it does me. "How did you manage to get the night off work?" he asks her.

"It's my night off, but I worked overtime last night. Long shift. Couldn't drive home, so I slept at the hospital." Lies. All of them. "I didn't know you'd be home."

They really must not communicate if she doesn't even know his schedule. But then again, he doesn't know hers, either. Not her real one. Maybe Jace was right. Maybe it's truly over between them, and Dad's sticking around for me. Clearly, he doesn't realize how much more damaging that is than if we'd just left. Just the two of us. We could've survived on our own. Been much happier.

"Hi, Mrs. Greene," Jace says, his hand out for her. "It's nice to meet you… properly." There's a hint of disdain in the last part, and I'm sure Mom can pick up on it too.

I'm surprised she's not rolling her eyes when she shakes his hand, mutters a "Hello."

"Everything's ready in the kitchen," I announce, and Mom and Dad make their way there.

Jace stays behind with me, waits until they're no longer in view before turning to me, his brow furrowed. "Are we doing this tonight?" he asks.

He said we. Me and him. Together. And, God, do I love him for that.

I nod.

"A little warning would've been good."

"Sorry," I say. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to be here for it, but I think I need you here… for me."

"I'd walk through fire for you. You know this."

Our lips have barely met before Mom calls out, "Will the food be getting cold, Harlow? Should I serve myself?"

Jace sighs, and I can already see his frustration building. I take his hand in mine. "Whatever happens, just try not to let what she says get to you. I need you to be my calm tonight."

Jace sits at the table next to my mom, opposite my dad, and none of them say a word while I load their plates. The air is thick, filled with tension, and everyone seems to struggle to exist in the same room.

Everyone but me.

Mom waits until the plates are served and I'm pouring drinks to finally break the silence. "So, Jace… why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Jace adjusts in his seat, not out of discomfort, but more in preparation. He doesn't answer her, though. He just gives off that same aloof, passive appearance from before I truly knew him. And, because there's no better time than the present, I answer for him. "Jace and I have decided that I'm going to follow him to whatever college he's going to."

"Really?" Mom and Dad reply at the same time. But one comes from excitement, and the other is mocking, and I'll let you guess which one is which.

"Welp," Mom says, sitting back in her chair. She hasn't touched her food. No one has. "All I can say is good luck to ya, Jace."

"I don't need luck," he says, his tone flat. "I have Harlow."

Mom sighs, and I bet she wishes she were anywhere but here. Sucks to be her. "So, what school are you going to?"

"Enough about Jace," I cut in, pouring her a drink. I wait until I'm seated at the table to add, "Why don't you tell him about yourself, Mom? Maybe start with how long you've been fucking Uncle Roy."

Dad's eyes snap to me, then to my mom, and I hate this for him. I hate that I've had to resort to this, but I won't allow him to protect her anymore. "My brother, Marcie? Really?" he seethes. "My own fucking brother!"

Mom ignores him. "You watch your fucking mouth, Harlow."

Beside me, Jace slices into his lasagna, takes the first bite out of everyone, while Dad slams a fist on the table and stands, booming, "You said you'd stop with this shit!"

"This shit?" I ask, my stomach dropping as I look between my parents. "There were others?"

"Yes," Dad answers, his hands fists at his side.

"And you knew?"

"Yes!"

I stand too, unable to sit still. Unable to think straight. "You knew?!" I don't want to yell at my dad. I really don't. But, "The entire time, you knew the type of person she was, and you let her treat me the way she does…" I hate that I cry. "You knew the things she said about me, to me, and you never once thought to throw any of that in her face?"

Dad's shoulders drop immediately, his eyes meeting mine across the room. "Harlow, it's not that simple."

Mom asks, "Is this why you asked me to come over? So you could embarrass me in front of your boyfriend?" She leans forward, elbows on the table, and speaks directly to Jace, who's still calmly eating his food. "You know about her past, right? About all the guys she's been with? About how she broke up a marriage?"

I laugh once, almost deranged. "Do you realize how fucked up you sound right now? You're breaking up your own marriage, and you don't even care!"

"Oh, shut up, Harlow!" Mom gets up and leaves the room, saying over her shoulder, "I'm so sick of hearing you cry! Wahh wahh wahh, life's so hard."

I follow her, my blood boiling. "For years, you've done nothing but make me feel like a piece of shit. Not worthy of the air I fucking breathe, and all this time… you've been a thousand times worse! You call me a whore? Look in the fucking mirror!"

She turns so quickly, I don't have time to block the open palm to my face.

I charge at her, but familiar arms wrap around my waist, holding me back.

"What is wrong with you, Marcie?" Dad booms from beside me, his hand on my shoulder. "That's your fucking daughter!"

"Look at you, always protecting your perfect little Harlow!" Mom laughs, irrational and sinister. "She's not even yours!"

I still, my heart plummeting, and Jace holds me to him, my back to his chest. I look up at my father, his face red, eyes redder. Jaw tense, he seethes, "Shut your mouth, Marcie. Right now."

"Dad?" I cry.

"You don't know that," he says, but he's speaking to her.

"Yes, I do," Mom scoffs.

"You swore you'd never find out."

I'm sobbing now, unable to comprehend the words they're sharing. "Dad!"

But Mom—she takes the dagger, aims right for my heart, and twists. "I took samples of your hair and had it sent away for testing. She's not yours, Shawn. She never was!"

I can barely make out my dad through the tears blurring my vision, but I know he doesn't do anything. Doesn't say saying. Not even to deny it.

"Dad?" I cry again, and I can feel Jace's hot breath against my shoulder as he tightens his hold, trying to comfort me.

"And you know what, Harlow?" Mom continues, and I hate that I look at her. Hate that I see so much of myself in her. "You were right. I wish it were you who had died. Better yet, I wish you were never born!"

My heart stops there, at the junction between truth and lies. Jace speaks for the first time since we left the kitchen, his voice soft, quiet. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, shut up, Jace!" Mom scoffs. "You belong in the fucking gutter, right next to your alcoholic grandpa!"

Red.

It's all I see.

All I feel.

I don't go for the slap like she did. I ball my fist, surging forward to clock her in the face, but before I can make contact, I'm being lifted off my feet. Jace pulls me away, kicking and screaming, and he turns me around, carries me through the house and to the backyard. As soon as I'm on my feet again, I attempt to run back in. My mom has gotten away with a lot in the past, but I refuse to let it happen now.

I make it two steps before Jace grabs me again, and he turns me to him this time, holds me at my waist so I can't escape. "Hey hey hey," he tries to soothe, but I'm too fucking angry. Too livid. Too fucking done with this bullshit. He cups my jaw, tilting my face up to look at him. "It's done, Harlow," he says, and I hold my breath, shake my head at him. "It's done now."

I let out a sob. Just one.

He wipes at my tears, like he always does. "She's not worth it," he tells me, his mouth so close to mine, as if he's offering his air when I'm struggling for my own. "You're better than this. Better than her. Don't stoop to her level. Don't go throwing punches. They don't solve anything. Trust me."

I stare into his eyes. His deep, dark eyes… the calm calm calm to my storm, and I fall into his arms, sob after sob retching out of me.

"I know, baby," he says, holding me tighter. "I know it hurts."

"I want to go, Jace," I cry. "I need to get out of here."