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“He was drunk and I kneed him in the you-know-where and ran.”
“When was this?” And why hadn’t she told me?
“This afternoon.”
Oh, God. And I’d been thinking her dark mood all night was because her mother had been caught having an affair with her boss—a partner in the law firm where she worked as a paralegal—and was getting a divorce as a result. We didn’t know if she was also going to lose her job.
“You were only home for a few minutes,” I said now, trying to wrap my mind around a world that had just completely changed.
“He came into my room when I was getting the red dress from my closet,” Bailey said. I’d been running errands with my mom after school and we were picking Bailey up to spend the weekend with us on our way home. My folks were taking us to a dinner theater in Pittsburgh the next night to celebrate the end of the school year. Bailey and I had both made the honor roll; I had straight As and she had all As and one B.
And we’d decided to wear the red dresses Mom had bought us for a Christmas dinner show we’d gone to last winter.
None of that mattered now. But it was what I wanted to think about.
She sniffed and I rubbed her shoulder. “Tell me everything,” I said. We stuck together. No matter what.
Bailey sniffled again. I swallowed, trying to hold everything in for her sake, but then I started to cry, too.
“The dress was on the top bar...” Her words were kind of hard to understand, all clogged up with tears, and still in a whisper. But she wasn’t sobbing. I almost wished she was. Sobbing came and went. These tears, they seemed like they could just keep coming and never stop.
I’d never seen Bailey like this before. Should I go get Mom now?
“I reached up for it....”
I could picture her there, inside the opened closet door—a single, pressboard thing, not like the solid wood double doors on my closet—her arm raised.
“I didn’t hear him come in....”
I rubbed her shoulder some more. I wanted to cover my ears like I’d done as a kid when Mom was telling me my grandmother had died. If I didn’t hear, I didn’t have to know and it wouldn’t be real.
“He came up behind me....”
I couldn’t stand the pain I heard in her voice. “It’s okay, Bail. It’s okay.” But it wasn’t. I had a feeling things weren’t ever going to be okay again, just like she’d said.
“He grabbed my breast....” She began to sob then, and I reached down for her, pulling her into my lap. I cradled her, rocking back and forth, whispering to her.
Neither of us had ever been touched sexually before.
We’d talked about what our first times would be like. A lot, lately. She’d heard it might hurt and asked me what I thought. So I asked Mom and she’d said it often does hurt the first time, but not always. And that it also could feel incredibly good if the man and woman were in love and took care with each other.
Bailey and I had talked about that a lot, too. About what “took care with each other” meant.
We hadn’t reached a conclusion yet, but one thing I knew for sure—the moments she was describing had nothing to do with “taking care.”
“I’m here,” I said, running my fingers through her long dark hair, hating a world that would allow such a horrible thing to happen to such a sweet, beautiful girl. “I’m here.”
We were a pair. What happened to her happened to me. We’d made that promise when we were kids, when we’d still been young enough to believe the world was fair and good.
I listened to her tell me how her drunk stepfather had groped her, shoving a hand inside the waistband of her jeans and down, slobbering all over her neck while he fingered her, before he’d turned her around to kiss her fully and she’d jabbed her knee into his dick and run.
He was a dick. And he was going to pay.
* * *
“No. No. Can’t do it,” Papa Bill stood in the Mitchells’ fancy tiled foyer as Bailey and Koralynn came downstairs together just before five on Saturday evening.
“Can’t do what, Bill?” Mama Di, Koralynn’s mom, sleek and slim and gorgeously blonde, her spiked heels clicking on the tile, walked up behind him. With him in his black tux and her in the body-hugging red silk dress, they looked like Bailey’s perception of Hollywood and they were her welcoming committee. Hers and Koralynn’s.
“I can’t possibly take these two out in public with us,” he said, his face serious. Koralynn paused. Papa Bill’s eyes had that look in them like they got when he was teasing.
Bailey stopped for a second before continuing her princess descent, her high heels sinking into the plush carpet on the stairs. After crying half the night and arguing the other half, she’d finally gotten Koralynn to promise not to say anything about what her stepfather had done the day before. But Koralynn had agreed, only because she knew it would be his word against Bailey’s and that Bailey would be dragged through humiliating shit for probably nothing, and because Bailey’s mom was leaving the jerk, anyway, so Bailey wouldn’t have to deal with him after this.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Koralynn was right beside her again, lacing her arm through Bailey’s, like she’d carry the world for both of them. And smiling down at her father.
Koralynn had said they weren’t going to let Stan ruin this night. But it was too late. Koralynn was still Koralynn, all pure and innocent and wondering about the mysteries of life. Bailey wasn’t. Not anymore.
And that was just one more thing separating her from the best friend she loved more than anyone else on earth.
“Look at you two,” Papa Bill said, not a hint of smile in his voice. “You’re far too beautiful! An old man like me can’t be fending off all the guys who’ll be trying to get your attention.”
“You aren’t old, Daddy.”
“And you won’t have to fend them off, either,” Bailey said, grinning even though it hurt, as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “’Cause Koralynn and I will just turn our noses up at them.”
If Bailey had her way, she and Koralynn wouldn’t even look at guys until they were in college. Or later. Guys were just...well, more trouble than they were worth.
But Koralynn was already falling into the trench. And falling hard. For a guy in their sophomore biology class. Danny Brown. He had the hots for her, too. Bailey could tell. It was only a matter of time before the two of them hooked up. By her guess, it would happen during the summer.
And maybe, if Koralynn was lucky, she wouldn’t get hurt. Maybe she’d find out that she didn’t really like Danny as much as she thought before he moved on to the next girl.
Or got too possessive.
Or made her have sex with him.
Bailey shuddered. She didn’t want any guy touching her. Not when it left you feeling dirty and gross.
“We’re more interested in getting our driver’s licenses, Daddy,” Koralynn was saying as she leaned forward to kiss her father’s cheek.
Koralynn had been working on her old man since Christmas, getting him ready to accept the fact that she was growing up. And going to need a car soon.
Lord knew, Bailey wouldn’t be getting one, so they really needed Koralynn to.
“It’s still four months before you turn sixteen, Kor,” Mama Di said. “Give your father a break for the night. I’m not sure he can handle looking at you in heels and makeup and thinking of you behind the wheel of a car.” Mama Di was smiling at the husband she still obviously adored.
And Bailey wondered how they did it, how they’d stayed married for twenty years and didn’t hate each other.
But then, she wondered a lot of things. Like why someone as cool as Koralynn Mitchell wanted her, Bailey Watters, for a sister.
Chapter Two
October 2001
“Come on, Bail, wear the black sweater we got last weekend. You know you look too hot to touch in it.” I held it out to her. The very expensive long, thin sweater was one of a number of garments we shared. We’d both chipped in for it—me from my allowance, and her from the money she made working in the college agricultural building three days a week.
“It’ll be perfect with those new jeans. They’re tight all the way down to your ankles. And with your wedge sandals...” I put my free hand to my lips and made a kissing gesture in the air.
“You wanted to wear it for homecoming.” Arms crossed, Bailey faced me in the middle of our dorm room.
“Yeah, but then I remembered this.” I grabbed a tie-dyed gauze number Mom had sent home with us the last time we visited.
“Danny’s already seen it.”
“Danny’s already seen everything underneath it, too,” I reminded her with a wicked grin. “Besides, he’s going to be paying more attention to a leather ball a bunch of guys are passing around than he is to me.”
I didn’t really believe that. Danny Brown might love the game of football enough that we’d decided to attend Wesley, a smaller college about an hour from home, rather than Penn State, when he got the Wesley football scholarship. But I always came first with him.
I had no worries there.
Bailey eyed the sweater. “You want to wear it tonight,” I said, handing it to her. “You know you do.”
“You just want me to wear it because Jake’s here,” she said.
That was the problem when your best friend had been your best friend since you were five and you lived with her and shared all your secrets, too. I didn’t even have to say a word and Bailey knew what was on my mind.
“You like him, Bailey.” That was the flip side; I knew her just as well.
“And you want me to marry him. Regardless of what I want.” Her tone was accusatory.
If I didn’t love Bailey so much, I’d have grown weary of this topic long ago. I’d have given up. But I did love her, more than almost anybody, so...
“I want you to have what you’ve always wanted, Bail. A home of your own, with a family who loves you and stays together.”
I had that family, had the promise of it continuing in my future, too, with Danny, and hadn’t done anything to get it or deserve it. Hadn’t had to work for it. Bailey, on the other hand, spent half her life watching her mother’s back, texting her brother, Brian, every hour to keep his spirits up, keeping in touch with stepsiblings and making sure she was part of her father’s life—and the other half watching out for me and trying to please my mom and dad. And I sensed that she still felt alone a lot of the time. No matter how connected my heart was to hers.
“You want me to have what you want,” she said softly, implying that she didn’t want what I wanted or what I had. But I knew her.
She did want what I had—a secure and loving family. Parents she could count on. A nice house, one that wasn’t filled with chaos and fraught with tension. Not only did she used to tell me that, it was why she’d practically moved in with me when we were kids.
I wanted to tell her that actions spoke louder than words, but I didn’t. Bailey was well aware of what I was thinking. And I felt convinced that I was right about her deep-down craving for a family of her own.
Letting the sweater dangle toward the ground, I gently squeezed Bailey’s shoulder with my free hand, looking deeply into those striking brown eyes, letting her look into my eyes—my soul—too.
“All I want is for you to be happy, Bail. And sometimes, you put up roadblocks.” I chose my words carefully. No matter how deeply you knew someone, sometimes words could hurt. Sometimes you reacted to them, got defensive and lost the truth along the way.
“I can’t help it.” Those brown eyes were wide open to me and my heart just about burst. Bailey’s hurt was my own. Like we were Siamese twins of the soul. “Your life...your heart...it’s always been protected, Kora. Mine hasn’t.”
In a flash I remembered Bailey’s whisper in the night five years ago, when she told me what Stan had done to her. And then had an instant replay of the day, our freshman year, when the sorority we’d pledged chose me and not her because my mother was an alumna, and hers hadn’t even attended college. They hadn’t said so, of course. Nor had they commented on the roughness around Bailey’s edges—a natural defensiveness—but I knew that was the real reason they’d shut their door in her face.
Mom, an active alumna, had called our advisor, of course, and Bailey was in, too. And now in our junior year, she chaired the Charitable Works Committee, which was so Bailey. But those protective walls around her heart had thickened and sometimes that scared me.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Other people didn’t know Bailey like I did.
Not even Danny. He didn’t get why I was so close with someone who seemed so cold.
But in some ways he was like Bailey. Needing a family to call his own. His folks were divorced, too, and Danny was kind of forgotten sometimes.
I’d tried to explain things to him. Over and over again. And Danny’s and Bailey’s inability to become real friends was all that kept me from accepting the secret proposal my high school lover had issued over the summer. Up on my special mountain, just outside town—the place I went when I needed to think. I wanted to marry Danny. Even more, probably, than he wanted to marry me, which was saying a lot based on how many times a week he begged me to make it official so all the other guys would know I was permanently taken.
But Bailey and Danny were still resisting each other, and I couldn’t go without Bailey. We were family. And that was that.
“But you like Jake,” I said now as Bailey, obviously restless, turned her head, glancing toward the closet. “Really like him,” I added, in case she thought this was one of those times I’d let her get by with less than the complete and painfully open truth.
Her head swung back toward me, and she stared silently. An acknowledgment that I was right. I could hear her and your point is? as clearly as if she’d said the words aloud.
“He likes you, too, Bail.” Most guys had the hots for my best friend. All of them wanted to have sex with her. They were attracted to the body; they just shied away from the person. But Jake...he saw beyond Bailey’s tough exterior to the sensitive, lonely and totally compassionate heart that beautiful, apparently cold exterior protected.
I wasn’t sure what it meant that Danny’s best friend understood Bailey way better than Danny did.
“I’m not going to date him.” Bailey’s face had stiffened, her voice adamant. “He’s over an hour away, and you saw how well all those girls at Penn State knew him when we were there last month.”
The three of us, Danny, Bailey and I, had gone home for the weekend and to be on Jake’s team at his frat’s annual fall kickoff.
“I didn’t notice Jake paying attention to anyone but you.” The guy was besotted with Bailey—not that he didn’t talk to other girls. He was twenty. Gorgeous. And Bailey wouldn’t grab him up.
“I’m not getting involved with anyone. I’m going to law school,” Bailey said, pulling a pair of blue jeans off the hanger and putting them on. It was the pair she’d said would go with the sweater because of the black stitching on the pockets. The pair that she always wore with the wedges I’d mentioned.
“But if I did want to date someone, it wouldn’t be a guy who’s an hour away and has girls falling all over him. Might as well put a Be Unfaithful to Me sticker on my forehead.”
She was dressing up for him, though. When Bailey grabbed the sweater out of my hand, I wisely kept my mouth shut.
* * *
June 2003
Bailey pasted on her best happy smile and started down the aisle, both hands clutching the plastic bouquet holder bearing red, white and yellow roses to match the gold gown she and Koralynn had chosen for the maid of honor. It was as close in style to Koralynn’s white gown as they could get and Bailey figured it was as close as she was ever going to get to a wedding gown of her own.
The roses’ scent wafted up, reminding her of the summer Koralynn and her parents, Mama Di and Papa Bill, had taken her with them on vacation to Hilton Head. The resort grounds had been full of roses.
Step. Pause. Step.
Debby Boone’s “You Light Up My Life” played through the sound system, resounding in the rose-decorated church as Bailey walked in slow, rehearsed steps toward the white-robed minister standing just in front of the altar. All eyes were on her. She could feel them.
Her cheeks hurt from the effort it was costing her to look so happy.
It wasn’t that she was unhappy. She was excited for Koralynn because Danny was crazy about her.
Step. Pause. Step.
