Page 30 of Happily Never After

“It’s probably nothing. I just need to check something out at the house.”

His voice was calm, but Claire’s stomach clenched. Happiness faded like a dying sunset. What was happening at the house? Was her pepper spray still in date? Should she grab the bat from the trunk?

Alice had apparently shifted her focus from the mountains to the Mediterranean.

“Ooh, this Airbnb has four bedrooms and a private infinity pool overlooking the sea.” She shoved her phone into the front seat to show Claire.

“That’s great, Mom. Do you really think the show will let you take off long enough to go to Greece?” There was no way this trip was happening. Alice was full of big ideas and very little follow-through.

“I’m the boss, darling. They’ll do what I say. Did you catch the show last week?”

Claire didn’t always watch her mother’s TV show when it came on, but she usually tried to let it play while she cleaned the house. “I did. I got chills when you channeled that turkey farmer’s mother.”

“Poor dear. She just wanted to see her son happy.”

“Do you think he’ll reach out to Annabelle?”

“If he doesn’t, Norma threatened to keep opening all the cabinets in his kitchen and slamming his doors. I told her there were more constructive ways to spend her energy, but she’s a stubborn one.”

“Pity,” Claire said.

Luke sighed, making her smile. He didn’t believe in much of anything her mother said and preferred to attribute all of her premonitions to a combination of coincidence and her ability to read people. He had been unimpressed by her interpretation of his tarot cards at Thanksgiving.

“Hey,” Claire whispered to him while Alice babbled to herself about the Smoky Mountains in the backseat. “Did that name from earlier mean something to you? Skip?”

His mouth hardened into a firm line. “Yeah.”

She waited, staring at his grumpy profile.

“Honesty,” she prompted after thirty seconds of silence. Well, silence minus Alice expounding on Appalachian granny magic.

“He worked for a rival law firm. My mom went up against him a couple of times. She said they were colleagues.”

Claire nodded. Colleagues who banged, apparently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She and my dad weren’t good together.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. It was too bad the Happily Ever Afters compatibility checklist didn’t exist when Rachel and George Sr. had found each other. But at least their disastrous union had produced her favorite person.

“I wish I could have met your dad,” she added.

“Me too.” He returned her squeeze, and silence descended again.

The clouds parted, and the sun gained strength as they drove through the city. Luke skillfully avoided a series of large potholes on Market Street. They turned onto Beaumont Street and passed a large brick building. She turned, straining against the seatbelt as her former apartment building flew past them and out of sight. Some of the best—and strangest—years of her life had been spent there. And some of the worst. Now that Claire had moved in with Luke in the country, the apartment belonged to Mindy. Every time she visited, Claire was annoyed that Mindy had moved the coffee maker.

The smell wafting from Big City Bean Co elicited a loud growl from her stomach. Their chocolate croissants were almostas good as the ones she and Luke had shared in Paris. Nothing compared to the wide-open spaces of the country, but the bustling metropolis of West Haven had been a special place to call home. From her old apartment, she could step out her door and walk to a dozen restaurants. She had even done it while sleepwalking. Now she had to go to the grocery store an upsetting number of times each week. Ugh.

“Still hungry for empanadas, sweetheart?” Alice finally paused her diatribe on family vacations as they passed Claire’s second favorite Mexican restaurant.

“They sound perfect. I wish Roy was here to make them, though.”

Alice sighed wistfully. “He’s stuck on a big job hooking up some HVAC for a new business. He said he’ll call you tonight.”

“Good.”

Her mother abruptly decided to meditate, and silence filled the car as they drove past the city limits and into the countryside.

Claire laid a hand on Luke’s thigh. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that the leather audibly shifted under his palm. In her haste to figure out who Skip was, she had nearly forgotten that something was wrong at the house. Apparently he wasn’t in a sharing mood.

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