Page 153 of Hot Shot

Confused, I just wait.

“After the…incident between our husbands at the baseball game, Avery has been distraught. Yesterday, when she learned you were terminated and why, she broke down completely. She…she confessed that she was the one to blame. For all of it.”

Stunned, I lean against the counter. “All…all of it? What does that mean, exactly?”

Nicole’s face scrunches with concern, embarrassment. “The terrible things she said when we spoke last. All the times she’s goaded your daughter. Her hair.” The color in her cheeks flares with that last one. “She did it herself. Mrs. Panko told me about her friend Mackinzie’s haircut—when I brought it up to Avery, she broke. She confessed to everything.”

I fucking knew it.

Her eyes are bright and sharp with regret against the flush of her skin. “I…I had to be the one to tell you just how sorry I am. For what I said, for not believing you. For how far it’s gone. After the situation with Avery’s hair and then the fight…” She sighs, shaking her head. “It was beyond my control, what my husband and his father did. Men like that aren’t used to being humiliated, never mind with an audience. I’m not sorry to say that Jared earned that hit. Not that any of them would listen to me.” She sits up a little straighter at the admission. “But to hiscredit, the second Avery confessed, my husband called his father to reinstate you. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I needed you to know that we’re sorry. I wish things had been different.”

“So do I,” I say, stunned. “I’m sorry, I think I’m in shock.”

“I know we must seem like horrible people. Maybe we are. My husband is proud, just like his father, entitled. But when he learned that Avery lied about it all, he was beside himself. I mean, I think he still wishes he’d landed the punch he swung for, but…” We chuckle. “I didn’t come from this life—I had to scratch and scrape and fight my way through life, through school, through college where I met Jared. When I came into that meeting and you were there, I thought…I thought I’d have to fight again, this time for Avery. I thought Avery was telling me the truth—she’s never done anything like this before, never at this level. Never this extreme. But I was wrong. She lied. She hurt your little girl, and I hurt you, and that just…” Her eyes glitter with tears, and she swallows hard. “I’m just so sorry. I’m so sorry that Jared and his father did what they did. I hope we’ve started to make it right. And I hope it never, ever happens again.”

I’m left reeling, shocked to the core. But this? Her apology and support? It’s all I wanted from the beginning, and she came in here and all but begged for forgiveness. So for that, I give her grace. “I…thank you. Maybe now we can work together and help the girls sort all this out. If we’re on the same team, we’ll be able to be there for them if it happens again.”

Relief washes over her. “I hope it never does. Thank you for being more understanding than I’ve been.” She sighs and looks away. “I don’t know what to do with Avery. This goes so much deeper than a playground lie. Something drastic needs to happen, but I don’t know where to go from here. Do you…do you have any advice? Being a teacher, being a mother, I thought maybe…” She trails off, shaking her head into the cunt mug.

But I’m too moved to joke.

A teacher. A mother.Things I am, things I’ve always wanted to be. Things I’ve gained and lost and never appreciated more than I do right now.

So I do my best to help her, starting by giving her Cricket’s therapist’s information.

I’m smack in the middle of explaining rewards charts to Nicole when Jessa busts through the front door.

“I’m here and I have vodka!” she declares, her arms full of bottles. “I brought a shiraz too, and some whiskey. I wasn’t sure how deep it was—oh!” Her whole face shoots open when she sees Nicole, then quirks with confusion as she looks her up and down. “Ah, hello there. And, um, who might you be?”

Nicole stands and picks up her bag. “Nicole Frank. And also, leaving. Miss Winfield, thank you again. For everything.” With that stiff sort of grace she possesses, she sees herself out.

Jessa turns, the bottles in her arms shifting. “And who in the world was that?”

“The bully’s mom!”

Her eyes widen. “No.”

I’m nodding, reaching for my phone and pulling up Wilder’s thread in my texts. “Yes! She just…she apologized. Her daughter fessed up, admitted she was guilty of everything, and she got me my job back.”

Now Jessa’s mouth pops open. “Really?”

“Really! Oh, fuck it, this is too much to type. Give me a second, would you, Jess?”

“Of course.” She sets the bottles down on the island and snorts a laugh, picking up the cup. “You gave her the cunt mug.”

“Happy accidents!” I say over my shoulder, then call my husband and tell him the good news.

God knows we need it.

CHAPTER 57

ALL THE RIGHT REASONS

WILDER

The rollercoaster we’ve been on for the last few days has worn my nerves so thin, it feels like I haven’t slept in a month.

The weather system has moved through, and today we woke up to sunshine and crisp, clear skies. As tired as I am, the sun is punishing as I drive to the Wilson’s. I wish it felt cheerful. But until I get my daughter back, cheer isn’t in my emotional vocabulary.

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