place to live. Some part of the girl she once was reached for the remembered sanctuary of Neenie’s arms. Neenie, who has always known the truth. Step forward , the small voice whispered.
“I know.” The tiny admission was all she was capable of. But it was enough for Neenie. It was a baby step in the right direction.
“Child, you’ve been trying to drown your sorrows for some time now. And the problem with that plan is, you can’t drown sorrows. They’re good swimmers. They’re gonna float back up to the top and be bobbing right where you left them last night.”
“So it seems.” Savannah had to smile at the imagery. “I think you’re the only one who knows me. The only one who knows the truth.” Or all that I can bear to let you know.
“That’s because you’re my Baby Girl.”
“Everything’s out of control, Neenie. I don’t know where to start.”
How had she let it get this far? She looked up at Neenie with a sigh. She seemed to do a lot of sighing lately. As if trying to expel the decay with a deep cleansing breath.
The older woman reached over and squeezed Savannah’s slender hand.
“Let’s start with the things you can fix. You may not have any control over Price, but you can find your own way back. And you’re gonna need a clear head to do it.”
“You’re right.”
Savannah closed her eyes and let Neenie’s voice wash over her. Rich and mellow, it flowed liked an unhurried river. Savannah longed to fall into its cool depths. Let the words and the current carry her downstream, dropping her at the ocean’s door. From there, the tide would bear her off until she washed ashore in some far-flung place where no one knew her name.
No matter how many different ways she dreamed of escape, running away wasn’t an option for her. It was the coward’s way out, anyway. She might be a prick-teasing fool, but she wasn’t a coward. She turned away from Adam last night for her children. She behaved badly but she ran for her home before any further damage could be done. Ran before she could change her mind.
“Have you talked to Kip?”
“No.” Savannah shook her head, twisting the tie of her robe. “Kip is knee-deep in his campaign. I don’t want to burden him with my nonsense. He doesn’t have the time to run home and save me from myself. Or talk to Price. Again.”
“You know he’d do it.”
“I know he would, but I don’t want him to.”
“Well then, have you thought about talking to your momma?” Neenie asked.
Savannah blew out her breath. “No. Where in the world would I even start?”
“Just start talking, the words will come.”
“You don’t just start a conversation like this after thirty-nine years of cocktail hour chit-chat.”
“She’s still your momma. Do you think she doesn’t see your unhappiness?”
“I’m not sure what she sees.”
“That’s because you’re always pushing her away. When you say everything’s fine—that closes the door. Miss Beverly’s not one to barge in.”
Neenie was right. Beverly never intruded. Although sometimes Savannah wished she would. Drop the genteel pretense and bash the door down and say, I see what you’re doing . Of course the door could always be opened from Savannah’s side.
“I don’t know, Neenie.” Regret nudged between the words. Regret for what might have been if she and Beverly had been dealt a different set of cards. She was sure her mother lived with her own remorse, but the two of them played their parts on opposite sides of the stage.
“Then maybe it’s time to talk to your daddy,” Neenie said, exhausting the list of referees.
“About a divorce?” Savannah could barely form her lips around the word, its sour taste on the back of her tongue.
Neenie’s shrug was subtle, but her mouth was set into a fine line.
“Don’t think I haven’t looked at that from every angle,” Savannah said.
No one in the Kendall family had ever been divorced. It was unheard of. If there were unhappy
“I know.” The tiny admission was all she was capable of. But it was enough for Neenie. It was a baby step in the right direction.
“Child, you’ve been trying to drown your sorrows for some time now. And the problem with that plan is, you can’t drown sorrows. They’re good swimmers. They’re gonna float back up to the top and be bobbing right where you left them last night.”
“So it seems.” Savannah had to smile at the imagery. “I think you’re the only one who knows me. The only one who knows the truth.” Or all that I can bear to let you know.
“That’s because you’re my Baby Girl.”
“Everything’s out of control, Neenie. I don’t know where to start.”
How had she let it get this far? She looked up at Neenie with a sigh. She seemed to do a lot of sighing lately. As if trying to expel the decay with a deep cleansing breath.
The older woman reached over and squeezed Savannah’s slender hand.
“Let’s start with the things you can fix. You may not have any control over Price, but you can find your own way back. And you’re gonna need a clear head to do it.”
“You’re right.”
Savannah closed her eyes and let Neenie’s voice wash over her. Rich and mellow, it flowed liked an unhurried river. Savannah longed to fall into its cool depths. Let the words and the current carry her downstream, dropping her at the ocean’s door. From there, the tide would bear her off until she washed ashore in some far-flung place where no one knew her name.
No matter how many different ways she dreamed of escape, running away wasn’t an option for her. It was the coward’s way out, anyway. She might be a prick-teasing fool, but she wasn’t a coward. She turned away from Adam last night for her children. She behaved badly but she ran for her home before any further damage could be done. Ran before she could change her mind.
“Have you talked to Kip?”
“No.” Savannah shook her head, twisting the tie of her robe. “Kip is knee-deep in his campaign. I don’t want to burden him with my nonsense. He doesn’t have the time to run home and save me from myself. Or talk to Price. Again.”
“You know he’d do it.”
“I know he would, but I don’t want him to.”
“Well then, have you thought about talking to your momma?” Neenie asked.
Savannah blew out her breath. “No. Where in the world would I even start?”
“Just start talking, the words will come.”
“You don’t just start a conversation like this after thirty-nine years of cocktail hour chit-chat.”
“She’s still your momma. Do you think she doesn’t see your unhappiness?”
“I’m not sure what she sees.”
“That’s because you’re always pushing her away. When you say everything’s fine—that closes the door. Miss Beverly’s not one to barge in.”
Neenie was right. Beverly never intruded. Although sometimes Savannah wished she would. Drop the genteel pretense and bash the door down and say, I see what you’re doing . Of course the door could always be opened from Savannah’s side.
“I don’t know, Neenie.” Regret nudged between the words. Regret for what might have been if she and Beverly had been dealt a different set of cards. She was sure her mother lived with her own remorse, but the two of them played their parts on opposite sides of the stage.
“Then maybe it’s time to talk to your daddy,” Neenie said, exhausting the list of referees.
“About a divorce?” Savannah could barely form her lips around the word, its sour taste on the back of her tongue.
Neenie’s shrug was subtle, but her mouth was set into a fine line.
“Don’t think I haven’t looked at that from every angle,” Savannah said.
No one in the Kendall family had ever been divorced. It was unheard of. If there were unhappy
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