Page 38 of Lavender and Lightning

Gabby: Hey. Your brother and your boyfriend have both called me asking where you are.

Me: Did they say why?

Gabby: No, but they sounded seriously worried. Maybe give them a call when you’ve got a sec?

Me: You’d think if it were something life or death, they’d say something.

Gabby: Yeah, but still. I’d freak out too if you just up and left without any way to reach you. Smooth their feathers and then get back to boning.

Me: Ha ha. I’ll see what I can do.

“It’s probably just Nanny Rhett having a fit because he doesn’t know where we are. Let’s at least eat something before we have to sit through a lecture,” Mateo says when I relay the information.

Mateo’s casual response helps calm me a little, but there’s something about this whole situation that nags at the back of my mind. Still, we get dressed and head into the kitchen, moving in sync while we throw together scrambled eggs and toast. It’s a simple meal, but being close to Mateo like this, with nothing but the sound of the waves outside and our idle chatter, it’s so peaceful and surreal. The tranquility of this moment is enough to push aside my anxieties and just be present, which isn’t something I’ve been able to do for a long time.

After breakfast, I practically beat Mateo back with a broom to have a moment to myself to shower and freshen up. After dressing in a simple sundress, I pad out to the main living room on bare feet. The back door is open, and Mateo is at the railing, looking out over the beach and ocean. I slide up under his arm, which he automatically adjusts so I can snuggle into his chest. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I don’t bother looking at the screen before answering, expecting it to be Rhett again.

“Hello?” I answer, trying not to let my voice shake.

“Lydia Marie Anderson, I cannot believe you!”

I flinch at the shrill voice coming out of the speaker, my heart jumping up into my throat. It can’t be. There’s no way.

“Mom?” I stammer, pulling away from Mateo’s embrace.

Diane Anderson doesn’t even slow down. “Of all the disrespectful things I’ve put up with from you over the last few years, this has got to be the worst one of them all. I thought I raised you to be better than this. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Mateo looks down, hearing the shouting through the speaker. My whole body breaks out in a cold sweat, my hands shaking.

“How did you get this number?” I manage to croak through my suddenly bone-dry mouth.

“You don’t get to ask any questions until you answer me,” she retorts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try to play dumb with me, Lydia. I’ve seen that…article.” She hisses the word like it physically pains her to speak the syllables.

“Article? What in God’s name are you fucking talking about?” I shout over her, my heart rate rising to frantic levels.

Mateo turns and runs back into the house, and I follow, stumbling slightly on unsteady legs. I find the nearest chair to the door and sink into it, not trusting my knees to keep me upright any longer.

“Don’t you dare speak like that to me! Darren showed me that gossip rag piece, the one with you and that Matthew Wilkenson boy being indiscreet in front of the Lord and everybody else. Have you no self-respect? No shame?” Diane continues, voice going from angry to indignant back to angry disappointment fast enough to make my head spin.

I can’t get my brain to form words, but I hardly need to. She goes on, screeching about what the neighbors and the church ladies and God knows how many other people she knows are going to think, and how could I do this to her. Mateo comes back from the bedroom and holds out his phone for me to see. Everything seems to fade out, all sound muffling except my heartbeat as I read the headline and article from yesterday afternoon that outed me as Mateo’s girlfriend. The photos that accompany the article turn my stomach, threatening to bring my breakfast back for a second appearance. The last one, taken when I asked Mateo to just go for a walk so I could get out of the house for one hour, shakes me to my core. It was after I’d moved into the pack house, and very well could have been taken by the same person who tried to break into my apartment.

“—lucky I haven’t told your father about any of this. He’s been so stressed with work and now his only daughter is going around, acting like the Whore of Babylon–”

“That’s enough,” I cut in when she pauses just long enough to take a breath. “I had no idea what you were talking about, but I found it. And you’re acting like I was out flashing my tits on Main Street–”

“Lydia! This is exactly what I’m talking about. This attention-seeking, vulgar behavior has gone on long enough,” she gasps, and I can almost picture the way she’d press a hand to her chest in righteous indignation.

“I’m not seeking any attention! These pictures were taken without my consent, and this article was written and published without my knowledge. This is literally the first time I’m hearing about it.”

“If you weren’t out parading yourself, then maybe–”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I shout, throwing the hand not holding my phone in the air.

“One more outburst like that and I’ll–”

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