Page 139 of Summers at the Saint
“Shit!” Livvy grabbed for her phone, rescuing it from the rapidly spreading pool of liquid on the counter.
It was her mother. “Liv? Did you reach out to Traci? She’s waiting to hear from you.”
Livvy looked over at Felice, who was mopping up the kombucha mess and glaring at her.
“Not yet,” she said, annoyed. “I’ll call her in the morning.”
“You’re stalling. I know you. It’s your favorite avoidance tactic.”
“Mom! Quit nagging. I said I’d call, and I will.”
“That’s all I ask,” Shannon said. “Good night, baby. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Livvy hung up and grabbed a roll of paper towels. “I’m sorry,” she told Felice as she swiped the paper towels across the counter.
“Never mind.” Felice picked up her glass and took a few sips of kombucha.
“Back to the guys. When I see Traci tomorrow I think we need to tell her everything we know about those two.”
“Now you’re talking sense,” Felice agreed. “Let’s lock up and go to bed. I’m dead.”
CHAPTER 62
It was after 9:00P.M.,and after thirty minutes of walking Lola around on the golf course, Traci was still urging her dog to take care of business when her cell phone rang.
“What are you doing?” Whelan asked.
“Me? Trying to keep Lola from eating fireflies.”
“How did the meeting with your lawyer friend go today?”
She stopped by a clump of azaleas while Lola relieved herself. “Best way to describe it? Earth-shattering. Remember Shannon? My former best friend and the other lifeguard who got fired after Hudson drowned?”
“Sure. The nurse. Nice woman, although she didn’t seem so keen on you, or your husband’s family.”
“That’s because Fred Eddings raped her. When she was only nineteen. He lured Shannon to his house under the pretense of giving her a better job, liquored her up with a martini…”
“My God,” Whelan breathed.
“She was too ashamed to tell me what had happened when she found out she was pregnant. No wonder she flipped her shit when Livvy told her she was coming to work at the Saint. It was her worst nightmare.”
“And now, her kid owns a piece of the action, right?”
“It looks that way,” Traci said. “Shannon was dreading giving Olivia the news. I can’t imagine how she’ll feel, knowing she was the product of a rape.”
“Must have been a pretty emotional reunion,” Whelan said.
“It was. Up until that summer, we’d been best friends for our whole lives, since the first day of first grade. Twenty-one years, I’ve wondered what I’d done to make her hate me. All these years she was keeping that secret bottled up inside. Not even her mother knew the truth. Until today, neither of us realized how much we missed and needed each other.”
“Women’s friendships,” Whelan said, sounding baffled. “I don’t get it. I couldn’t tell you the name of anyone I went to high school with, let alone elementary school. I’ve got pals, yeah, marine buddies, guys I served with over the years. My former business partner? We haven’t really talked since we sold the company. Every once in a while, he’ll text me something, usually something about sports, but that’s it.”
“You mean to tell me you and your friends don’t get mani-pedis together or meet up on Sunday mornings for a Target run?” Traci teased.
“Nope. But I could see myself doing a Target run with you, if the occasion arose.”
“That’s very sweet,” Traci said. “By the way, Shannon spotted you leaving my house this morning and assumed we’d been… up to something. She thinks you have excellent boyfriend potential.”
