Page 48 of Vendetta
‘But Jack wasn’t even there.’
‘I know that,’ she conceded. ‘But your uncle has always made friends with the wrong people, the sort of people who care more about money than family, and who encourage his paranoid delusions. When your father came to Cedar Hill, it was to make a new life with you and me – a better life than the one he had growing up. He was respectable and successful, but then Jack started coming around. He didn’t have a family of his own and so he looked at us like we were his too. It had always been just him and your father growing up, those two boys against the world, and I think your father felt like he owed him a piece of our lives too, so he wouldn’t be out on his own.
‘But then Jack started putting these thoughts in your father’s head. The same thoughts I can see him trying to put in yours – ones designed to make you afraid and anxious. It got to the point where Jack would question everything and everyone who came into the diner, and soon he was making your fatherparanoid too. The more I think about it, I can’t help but feel that if Jack hadn’t been getting under your father’s skin, then he wouldn’t have been so quick to believe that man was a dangerous intruder that night at the diner.’
‘And he wouldn’t have shot him,’ I finished coldly. ‘I don’t know if you can blame that on Jack.’
‘He gave your father the gun.’
‘He wanted him to protect himself,’ I countered. ‘They’ve always looked out for each other.’
She scooped a tomato wedge on to her fork. ‘You’re right,’ she replied quickly, shaking her head. ‘Never mind. I shouldn’t have brought it up on your birthday. This day should be about all the good things in your life.’
Suddenly the air between us was awkward and strained. I took a gulp of my Diet Coke and let my eyes wander back to the Priestlys, who had become uncharacteristically silent. Gino sat with his head in his hands, and Dom was leaning back, staring blankly at the ceiling. I knew how they felt.
CHAPTER THIRTEENTHE PARTY
I examined myself in my bedroom mirror, making sure my mother’s tinted moisturizer had blended into my skin. I applied some of her bronzer to the high points of my face and added some blush to my cheeks. I rifled through her make-up bag and fished out a deep kohl powder, sweeping it across my eyelids, before applying gooey black mascara to my lashes. Then I stood back and appraised my reflection, marvelling at what the wonders of modern cosmetics could do for sun-starved skin.
My mother shuffled into the room and my gaze fell on the gift in her hands – a large rectangle covered in Disney princess wrapping paper. ‘Is that from Millie?’
My mother put the gift on the bed. ‘She dropped it off when you were in the shower. Open it. The suspense is killing me.’
I didn’t have to be asked twice. I ripped open the wrapping paper to find a grey shoe box.Inside was a pair of sparkly stilettos. The generous heel was coated in a subtle gold gloss.
‘I think I’m in love,’ I groaned.
My mother sighed. ‘I’ve never been so disappointed to have smaller feet than you.’
I slipped my bare foot into the left shoe and teetered upwards. ‘How am I going to walk in these without falling on my face?’
My mother grinned as she handed me the second shoe. ‘No one reallywalksin high heels. They just get by.’
After fifteen minutes of practising, I shimmied into the gold dress. Twirling in front of my closet mirror, I pulled out the pin that I’d wedged into my hair so that it tumbled down my back in waves. I barely recognized my reflection, but I had a feeling she was going to have a whole lot of fun.
When we pulled up outside Millie’s house, I could hear music blaring through the walls. Cars lined the streets and crammed into the driveway. I climbed out on to the curb.
‘Are you sure Millie’s parents are OK with this?’ I watched my mother survey the cars warily.
‘Yup.’ I turned away from her so she couldn’t see my brazen, lying face.
‘OK…’ she relented. ‘Have a blast.’
I watched the car until it shrunk to a small blue dot.
When I turned around, Millie was standing at the front door, wearing a short black dress that accentuated her bust and bandaged her in around the waist.
‘Mil!’ I exclaimed, making my way towards her inhigh-heel-induced slow motion. ‘Thank you so much for the shoes!’
‘Holy crap,’ she shot back, her red-lipsticked mouth agape.
I hunched my shoulders and covered my dress with my arms. ‘Is it too much? Should I change?’
She gestured at my dress, then made a botched attempt at a wolf whistle.
‘Pervert,’ I teased, reaching her.
‘What?’ She raised her hands in a gesture of feigned innocence. ‘You look hot as hell!’
