Page 71 of Burning Daylight
I canfeelher glaring at me right now through the blankets.
Picturing it makes me grin. Growing up, she’d always stand at the foot of my bed with her hands on her wide hips and a practiced look of exasperation on her face as she’d try to get meup for school. She’d smack my feet and tell me to stop playing dead or I’d get stuck like that one day.
Morbid, but it always got the point across.
She’s the closest thing to a real mother that I’ve ever had, and since I barely came home over the past four years, I’ve missed her something fierce.
There was never a day of my life growing up when Beverly wasn’t taking care of me. She showed up in town asking for a job right before I was born, so I’m closer to her than any of my brothers, but we all love her.
“Rise and shine, you faker.”
Her voice is sharp but melodic, and joy infuses my chest. Still, I don’t move from under the covers.
I can’t make itthateasy on her after all this time.
“Enough.” A slap on my foot jolts my body. “I can see the light from your phone, liar.”
“Ouch,” I whine as I toss the comforter off me. “Still violent as ever. You know, I think they have therapy for that.”
She narrows her eyes. “Do they have therapy for how to get the pain out of my ass, too? Or is that something that’s a Juliette special, forced on me for the rest of my godforsaken life?”
I beam at her. “I missed you, too, Bevie.”
Beverly gives me a soft look that contradicts the harshness of her words. “We don’t have time for dramatics, child. Get up and act like you didn’t forget all the manners I’ve taught you.”
She throws a robe at me, and I grab it, standing and slipping it on, knotting the tie around my waist. “I could never forget you, Bevie. Your screeching voice is forever burned into my memory.”
“Good.”
She walks away from me and over to a pale-green rolling cart parked near the doors to my balcony, grabbing a mug and making me a cup of coffee. “Either get up now or risk the wrath of your mother when she sees you still in bed.”
My grin drops, and I groan audibly, walking to the chaise next to her and falling down on it with a huff. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see my mom right away. “She’s coming inhere? Now?”
“Enough of that,” Beverly chides softly as she hands me the cup.
“Youdolove me.” I sit back up and grasp the coffee, inhaling the fresh aroma. I take a sip, relishing the heat as it scorches my tongue.
Beverly’s already moving somewhere else, throwing open the door to my large walk-in closet that sits to the right of my en-suite bathroom.
“Say it,” I demand. “Tell me you love me, or I’ll think you don’t.”
She snorts from the other room, and then she’s sticking her head around the doorframe. “Your constant need for verbal affirmation is exhausting.”
Laughing, I move to the wall, hitting the keypad that opens the automated curtains, revealing the pool out back and the grassy area of the backyard just beyond it. My room is on the second floor, and if I step out onto the balcony, I can see beyond our personal tree line to the hills that surround the valley of Rosebrook Falls.
It’s a gorgeous day, the sun shining brightly and reflecting off the water, creating prisms of sparkle that ricochet into the air. There are a few people milling about down there, and my stomach twists, knowing they’re setting up for the Penngrove fundraiser.
I pout, sitting back down on my chaise and resting my chin in my hand. “How am I supposed to know about your love if you don’t say the words?”
“You’re an adult, Juliette. Act like it.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I know you do, anyway. Don’t forget that I know all about your secret phone calls and art tickets.”
Beverly’s in my closet, so she doesn’t respond.
“I need to find my own place. Being here makes me feel like I’m twelve again,” I say to myself as I sip my coffee.
My eyes float over to my phone that’s still on my nightstand, wanting to continue searching for Ryder.
