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  “Oh, she remembers. And she wears it on her chest like some sort of medal. But she didn’t come by to commiserate.”

  “Right, because you both really miss that bastard. So, why did she show up?”

  “Tara and her boyfriend broke up again. I’m sure it had to do with my mother’s meddling.” Shannon wove her way through the crowd toward the bar. “Where’s Peter?”

  “Right behind you,” Peter said, making her jump again.

  “Shit. The two of you really need to stop sneaking up on me.”

  “Shannon,” Annette called from the front of the restaurant. Now there was a woman who was not only loud but also commanded attention with her personality. Her looks hadn’t changed much in the last eighteen years, but the woman had.

  “Doesn’t your stepmother know that bright blue eyeshadow and big hair went out of style back in the eighties?” Cameron whispered.

  Shannon laughed. “She’s been slowly waiting for it to come back in style.”

  “Oh, my God. Shouldn’t the two of you still be on your honeymoon?” Annette asked as she yanked Cameron in for a big hug, kissing her cheeks, leaving bright red lipstick on her skin.

  Annette had an uncanny way of spreading joy and sunshine. Her life had been hard, even before she met and married Shannon’s father, but she’d managed to pick up the pieces. And when she put a smile on her face, she put one on everyone else, as well.

  “We just got back yesterday.” Cameron swiped at her cheeks.

  “And the first person my wife wanted to see when we got back was her old college buddy,” Peter said.

  “I love hearing you say, ‘wife,’” Cameron teased with a wicked smile.

  “Who wants a drink?” Peter said.

  “I’ll have the usual.” Shannon loved nothing more than being with the family she chose, and these people were exactly that. There was no way in hell she would have been able to get through her childhood without them.

  Annette cocked her head. On this day, they always drank beer, not her usual glass of red wine.

  “Just one, though. Then Annette and I have some things to discuss.”

  “We don’t want to home in on your alone time, but I knew you’d be here, and guess who we ran into earlier,” Cameron said, elbowing Shannon in the ribs.

  “Who? Was it that hot, hunky neighbor of hers? The PI guy? I’ve been telling her for a few months she should let him take her out on a date.” Annette said, playing right into Cameron’s insanity.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Cameron replied with the biggest smile ever.

  “You all need to stop this.” Shannon waved her hand in the air. “I don’t need any of you meddling in my love life.” She cringed. She hadn’t had a love life in a long time, and she wouldn’t have one until after she took care of something. It was time to finally make sure the past was secure where it belonged and ensure that she’d done the right thing.

  “Are you saying you’re dating?” Cameron planted her hands on her hips and glared. “Did something happen while I was on my honeymoon?”

  “No. And I’m not going out with my neighbor.” Shannon couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real date, and she didn’t think being forced to walk the aisle with Peter’s brother constituted a date—especially since he had a life partner.

  “Well, your hot, hunky neighbor told us he’s meeting you for drinks tonight,” Cameron said, smacking her lips together, making a kissing noise like a small child would. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “First, it’s not a date. Second, he mentioned he wanted to reschedule. And third... You got home yesterday. When did you expect me to tell you about something that wasn’t even a date?” Shannon’s pulse doubled. Perhaps she’d be seeing Jackson tonight, after all.

  But why was he acting so weirdly?

  “If it wasn’t a date, then what was it supposed to be?” Peter asked as he leaned against the bar.

  “I wanted to hire him to help me find someone.”

  “Find who?” Cameron asked, her forehead wrinkled with bewilderment. One thing Cameron didn’t like was not being in the know.

  Shannon caught Annette’s steady, all-knowing gaze.

  “A client. It’s a long story, and I can’t really talk about it.” Shannon brushed her new bangs out of her face.

  “I hear Jackson and his partner are very good at finding people,” Peter said, nodding his head. “You’re in good hands.”

  “Cute hands, too.” Annette winked.

  Shannon glared at Annette, giving her the old evil-eye twitch.

  “Oh, stop that,” Annette said. “He’s cute. Enjoy the eye-candy. When all is said and done, I’ve got money on the two of you hooking up.”

  “I’m in on that,” Cameron said.

  “Me, too,” Peter piped in.

  Shannon laughed. “Did you two love birds seriously come over here just to harass me about Jackson?”

  “Nah. We’re meeting my parents.” Peter rose on tiptoe, waving. “And they’re here. So, we’ll catch you later.”

  “Are we getting together this week?” Cameron said, looping her arm through Shannon’s.

  “Of course, we are.”

  “Awesome.”

  Shannon watched Peter rest his hand on the small of Cameron’s back as he glided her through the bar. At times, Shannon wished she’d confided in Cameron about so many things, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. At first, she’d tried to put that part of her life in a box and stuff it into the corner. By the time she was ready to speak the truth, she felt it was too late to tell old friends.

  “They’re a cute couple,” Annette said. “Come on, our table’s ready. Let’s get this show on the road. Time to celebrate our freedom.”

  Shannon slipped into the booth and glanced around. She’d never thought she would be at a place in her life where she could live in Lake George, much less frequent an establishment her father had often enjoyed. She scanned the restaurant for anyone who might recognize her as the young girl her father had put on display and up for sale.

  Even if someone recognized her or she recognized them, no one would say a word. It wasn’t the kind of thing a person acknowledged. Half the time, Shannon wanted someone to show a flicker of recognition with a huge dose of shame so she could let them know they hadn’t broken her. That she’d managed to pull her life out of the hell they’d held her in and made a difference in the world.

  The other half prayed no one knew who her father was.

  “I do the same thing, you know?” Annette reached out, resting her warm fingers over Shannon’s hand.

  “Do what?”

  “Please. Anytime I come to this town and see a man or woman who looks at me funny, I wonder if they know I was married to Dwight. If they were part of his circle of crazy friends and are still doing despicable things.” Annette leaned across the wooden table. “I even worry that maybe someone out there—besides the two of us—suspects what I did.”

  “You did the one thing no one else could have or would have done for me.”

  “I should have done it sooner. For that, I will always be sorry.”

  “You have no reason to be,” Shannon said. “What you did, you did out of love, and I will take that to my grave.”

  “I’d do it again, and I wouldn’t think twice.” Annette hadn’t been a great stepmother, but in the end, she’d been the only adult in Shannon’s life who took responsibility for what’d happened and stood by Shannon. Annette might not have been perfect, but she’d done the one thing that Shannon’s own mother couldn’t.

  “I wish I could repay you for all you have done for me over the years,” Shannon said.

  “Honey, you made a life for yourself. A good one. That’s payment enough.”

  “We need to get ourselves a couple of beers.” Shannon hated beer with a passion, and not just because it had been her father’s drink of choice but because she’d been forced to drink it for most of her youth. Now, once a year, s
he and her stepmother enjoyed her father’s favorite brew and ate the meal he’d had the night he died.

  The meal that’d sealed her future.

  “What are we waiting for?” Shannon waved the waitress over.

  “My two favorite customers.” Sandy pushed out her hip, holding an order pad in her hand. Sandy was a survivor and used to be one of Shannon’s patients. Shannon didn’t like to socialize with any past or present clients, but Sandy had become a friend. They were about the same age, and Sandy had come to her years after her abuser died but she still hadn’t been able to move her life forward.

  “What can I get you two this evening?”

  Shannon held up two fingers. “We’ll take two orders of the fresh bass, fried, onion rings, and bring two more beers with the meal.”

  “My, my. This isn’t like you two. It’s usually salad and wine. Is there a special occasion?”

  “Once a year, we celebrate our friendship by splurging,” Annette said with a big Southern smile. For years, Shannon had wanted to ask Annette if what she’d done haunted her, but then she’d have to actually acknowledge what had happened with words—and Shannon had promised Annette she never would. Besides, Annette had gone through therapy, remarried, and had a wonderful life.

  Had Dwight Brendel not died, neither of them would have survived.

  “I’ll put the order in. If you need anything else, just let me know,” Sandy said.

  Shannon held up her glass in a toast. “Here’s to that first day of our new lives.”

  They tapped their glasses together and laughed before chugging a few gulps.

  The bubbles ticked Shannon’s throat. The malty-yeast flavor angered her tastebuds.

  Annette gagged and coughed. “Damn, that shit is fucking horrible. It’s like drinking outhouse water.”

  “That’s gross,” Shannon said, shaking her head. Her stepmother had no filter, one of the things Shannon loved about her. “So, how are those grandbabies of yours?”

  Annette had remarried about fifteen years ago. George, her husband, was a kind, gentle soul, who treated her like a princess. He had three kids, two about Shannon’s age, and one a few years older. All three had at least two children apiece, and Annette made for a great stepgrandmother. She thrived in her marriage, and Shannon was truly happy that Annette had been able to find real love.

  The kind that lasted a lifetime.

  The kind most people only dreamt about.

  The kind of love Shannon prayed her little girl had because Shannon had decided to give her up.

  “They are wonderful,” Annette said, beaming with pride, her big, Texas smile pushing her cheeks upward. She’d aged in the last few years, with deep-set wrinkles around the eyes and lips now, but she had such a young spirit, you didn’t notice the age. “You’re going to be sorry you asked.” Annette tapped her cell phone. “I won’t go into details, but here are the latest pictures. We had a big family barbeque a couple of weeks ago.” Annette lifted her gaze and scowled. “That you were invited to…but didn’t come. I don’t live that far away. It’s only an hour and a half from here.”

  Shannon loved Annette for always treating her like the daughter she’d never had. Not a single family event had gone by without an issued invitation, and Shannon attended most—but never the intimate barbecues. “You know how I feel about that.”

  “I do. And you’re wrong. George loves you, and so do all of his kids. You’re always welcome in our home.”

  “Until my mother brings her crazy.”

  “Don’t you dare go bringing up one incident that happened ten years ago. Besides, your mother’s bark is worse than her bite, and I have no problem handling her.”

  “You don’t have a problem handling anyone.” Shannon took the phone in her hands and flipped through what seemed like a hundred images. She fought the tears threatening to fill her eyes. Annette had been her guardian angel in more ways than one. Even today, she proved to be a lifeline.

  “I want you to promise me you will come to the next family gathering. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “It’s overwhelming.”

  “So?” Annette took another swig of her beer. Her face scrunched, making her wrinkles double.

  “I don’t do the intimacy thing very well. You know that. Hell, you’re the only one who knows everything. Besides my mother, who doesn’t acknowledge anything, but only because that would make her look bad. Outside of my therapist, you’re the only person I trust with my emotions.”

  Annette arched a brow. “George knows, and it’s about time you start trusting some people. Sweetheart, you may not need a man, but living without intimacy…that’s a lonely world. Now, promise me you will come, or I’m going to drive up and drag you kicking and screaming.”

  “I promise,” Shannon said, knowing Annette would never quit, and she’d also follow through on her threat. Ever since that fateful morning, Annette had gone from a young lady tossed into a world she didn’t understand and trapped in an abusive marriage with no way out, to a woman who would never allow another person to take advantage of her again.

  Nor would she let those she loved whimper in self-pity.

  “Good. I’m going to hold you to it.”

  Shannon tossed her napkin over her empty plate and finished off the nasty beer by plugging her nose. “Imagine if we did this more than once a year? We’d surely die of a heart attack.”

  Annette smiled. “Probably, but it would be worth it.”

  Shannon laughed. “Agreed.”

  “So, I can tell something is troubling you.” Annette never let her get away with anything, and she had a horrible habit of calling Shannon on her bullshit. Of all the people in her life, Annette was the only person she could count on to be brutally honest. “I’m not letting you out of here until you tell me what got under your skin.”

  “My mother showed up today and told me I should put a picture of my dad in my office. I know that shouldn’t bother me, but it’s the way she goes about shoving this crazy, screwed, false history she has of him down my throat.”

  Annette frowned. “Yeah. Your mom lives in fantasy land. How she can pretend it never—”

  “I love you, Annette, but you don’t need to say it.”

  “But that’s part of the problem. Your mother doesn’t, and you want her to at least acknowledge that it happened to you.”

  And that was the rub. Shannon wanted her mother to put her arms around her, hold her, and tell her that it wasn’t her fault. That she hadn’t done anything wrong. Just once, she wished her mother would put aside her fear of what she thought the world would see and take a closer look at her daughter and the reality she’d lived.

  “We’re way past that. My mother’s just stressing out over my stepsister’s wedding and making me unusually crazy because I have seen her more often. And you know what that does to me.” Shannon knew she sounded as if she were making excuses for her mother, but she wasn’t. Sadly, Shannon understood her mother more than she wanted to. “It’s not about my dad, but about her having the life she thinks she deserves. And what my father did taints that. Sometimes, I think she honestly believes that no one knew my father ever cheated on her. Of course, that’s why she left him.”

  “You’re deflecting.” Annette leaned back and narrowed her eyes. It was her skeptical look, and it always unnerved Shannon—more because ever since that day in her father’s kitchen, Annette had developed an uncanny ability to read Shannon. She was better at it than most trained therapists.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” Shannon let out a long breath before sucking in a deep one, letting her lungs fill with as much oxygen as she could.

  “Your mother does this shit every year. Something else happened. I suspect it has to do with why you really hired Jackson.” Annette lowered her chin. “And don’t lie to me by saying you’re trying to find some client.”

  Shannon’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “Do you ever wonder what became of my baby girl?”
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br />   “Yes,” she said. “Every day, and you know that. But I’ve always respected your wishes.”

  “I want to know she’s okay and that I did the right thing.”

  “You know you did the right thing, sugar,” Annette said. “I’m not saying it was easy, but considering who you were back then, and your father…it was the only sane choice you could have made.”

  “I’m not sure I ever had a choice.” Shannon felt a bubble of rage. Not that she thought she would have made a good mother, but she’d never been given a chance to choose.

  Until her father died.

  Annette reached across the table and grabbed Shannon’s hand. “You didn’t have a choice about what your father did to you. Or those men your father was involved with. But you could have made other choices when it came to the baby, and you didn’t. Just like I chose to put an end to the madness.”

  “I thought about aborting, but it was too late.”

  “You were sixteen.” Annette squeezed Shannon’s hand hard. “You were alone. All the people who were supposed to protect you, failed you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “In a way, I did. I think, under the circumstances, you did a very brave thing by giving her up for adoption.”

  “Did I?” The baby girl’s cry echoed in Shannon’s mind. To this day, she could still conjure the sound. She’d never held her child, but she had heard her tiny voice fill her ears, and it broke her heart that she hadn’t felt her daughter in her arms.

  That she had no idea what her child smelled like or even looked like on the day she was born.

  “Yes,” Annette said with authority. “You did.”

  “So, you don’t think I should try to find her?”

  Annette pulled back and let out a big old Texas laugh. “Oh, honey,” she said in her best Southern drawl. “Don’t you go putting words in my mouth. But if you are asking for my opinion on the matter, if you want to know, then I say go find her. She’d be nineteen now. An adult. It would be her decision if she wanted to see and have any kind of relationship with you.”

  “That’s what scares me. If she wanted to know me, she could have searched me out. But she hasn’t.”