Read Online The Fable of Us by Nicole Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nicole Williams
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‘supplies’ in our lifetimes, Ford, so step off.” Boone’s voice was low and rolled through the room.
Whatever Charlotte saw on Boone’s face had her reaching for Ford’s arm again, digging her heels into the floor as she tried to pull him back a few feet. Not that I could blame her. Boone might have been in front of me, but I knew enough about that tone to picture which expression went along with it. We also knew that when those two had gotten into it in the past, Boone had always come out the winner—at least in terms of the blood-and-sweat battle. Ford had come out on top when it came to getting out of jail free and getting a pass on detention
“When did this happen, Clara Belle?”
My mother’s voice was so quiet, I wasn’t sure it was her who’d spoken. Only after realizing she was waiting for me to answer did I register who had asked the question.
“When did what happen?” I asked, stepping around Boone so I had a good view of everyone in the room again.
“You and . . .” My mom seemed almost scared to look at him, but she finally did. If only for a moment. “Boone.”
This was exactly why I wanted to save the big reveal for tomorrow morning: so I could have the night to work out some story. Some story that didn’t have anything to do with walking into a backwoods bar and offering an old flame ten grand to pose as my plus one.
“Not too long ago,” I said right at the same time Boone said, “A while now.”
Four pairs of eyes shifted between Boone and me.
“Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you give me a little warning . . . so I could prepare your father and myself for this?” My mom’s complexion had gone a few shades lighter.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d seen her so at a loss—other than the time after I’d told her about . . . that time. I shook my head and let go of that thought. That was the past, and a part of the past that was too painful to hold on to. I had to let that go for good somehow.
“I’m saying something now,” I answered. “Sorry if you needed a warning before finding out Boone was my plus one, but I just didn’t think it was that big a deal.”
“Yeah, why would Boone Cavanaugh snaking his way back into your life again be a big deal?” Charlotte said under her breath.
My reply wasn’t said under my breath. “Because that was eight years ago, and some people believe in moving on. Get over it already, Charlotte. I have.”
Boone gave me another one of those sideways glances. I pretended to ignore it.
“Your father . . . I don’t know how he’s going to handle this,” Mom fretted, glancing toward his study as if he was about to come out with guns blazing. “You know how he feels about what happened . . . how he feels about him.”
“ He is right here. Ten feet in front of you, Mrs. Abbott.” Boone crossed his arms and seemed to stretch to his full height. “And he isn’t sure how he’s going to handle your husband either. He knows how he feels about what happened . . . and how he feels about Mr. Abbott too.”
“Then why are you here? Why come back when you know the way we feel about you and with the way you clearly feel about us?” Mom moved over to one of the decorative Parisian chairs at the bottom of the staircase and settled into it.
I hadn’t expected her to take this so hard. I hadn’t expected the ironclad Estelle Abbott to be dropped to sitting status a few minutes after finding Boone Cavanaugh back in her family’s life.
“Because Clara asked. That’s why.”
“I don’t know if Clara asked for what you gave her eight years ago. Nice of you to be so accommodating now. Maturity becomes you, Boone.”
Boone didn’t look at Ford, nor did he fire anything back. The muscles banding down his jaw tightened though. He could fool Ford into thinking that he didn’t give a rat’s fuck about him, but Boone couldn’t fool me. He’d never been able to.
“Then why did you, Clara Belle, ask Boone to come?” Mom
Whatever Charlotte saw on Boone’s face had her reaching for Ford’s arm again, digging her heels into the floor as she tried to pull him back a few feet. Not that I could blame her. Boone might have been in front of me, but I knew enough about that tone to picture which expression went along with it. We also knew that when those two had gotten into it in the past, Boone had always come out the winner—at least in terms of the blood-and-sweat battle. Ford had come out on top when it came to getting out of jail free and getting a pass on detention
“When did this happen, Clara Belle?”
My mother’s voice was so quiet, I wasn’t sure it was her who’d spoken. Only after realizing she was waiting for me to answer did I register who had asked the question.
“When did what happen?” I asked, stepping around Boone so I had a good view of everyone in the room again.
“You and . . .” My mom seemed almost scared to look at him, but she finally did. If only for a moment. “Boone.”
This was exactly why I wanted to save the big reveal for tomorrow morning: so I could have the night to work out some story. Some story that didn’t have anything to do with walking into a backwoods bar and offering an old flame ten grand to pose as my plus one.
“Not too long ago,” I said right at the same time Boone said, “A while now.”
Four pairs of eyes shifted between Boone and me.
“Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you give me a little warning . . . so I could prepare your father and myself for this?” My mom’s complexion had gone a few shades lighter.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d seen her so at a loss—other than the time after I’d told her about . . . that time. I shook my head and let go of that thought. That was the past, and a part of the past that was too painful to hold on to. I had to let that go for good somehow.
“I’m saying something now,” I answered. “Sorry if you needed a warning before finding out Boone was my plus one, but I just didn’t think it was that big a deal.”
“Yeah, why would Boone Cavanaugh snaking his way back into your life again be a big deal?” Charlotte said under her breath.
My reply wasn’t said under my breath. “Because that was eight years ago, and some people believe in moving on. Get over it already, Charlotte. I have.”
Boone gave me another one of those sideways glances. I pretended to ignore it.
“Your father . . . I don’t know how he’s going to handle this,” Mom fretted, glancing toward his study as if he was about to come out with guns blazing. “You know how he feels about what happened . . . how he feels about him.”
“ He is right here. Ten feet in front of you, Mrs. Abbott.” Boone crossed his arms and seemed to stretch to his full height. “And he isn’t sure how he’s going to handle your husband either. He knows how he feels about what happened . . . and how he feels about Mr. Abbott too.”
“Then why are you here? Why come back when you know the way we feel about you and with the way you clearly feel about us?” Mom moved over to one of the decorative Parisian chairs at the bottom of the staircase and settled into it.
I hadn’t expected her to take this so hard. I hadn’t expected the ironclad Estelle Abbott to be dropped to sitting status a few minutes after finding Boone Cavanaugh back in her family’s life.
“Because Clara asked. That’s why.”
“I don’t know if Clara asked for what you gave her eight years ago. Nice of you to be so accommodating now. Maturity becomes you, Boone.”
Boone didn’t look at Ford, nor did he fire anything back. The muscles banding down his jaw tightened though. He could fool Ford into thinking that he didn’t give a rat’s fuck about him, but Boone couldn’t fool me. He’d never been able to.
“Then why did you, Clara Belle, ask Boone to come?” Mom