Rose Colored Glasses

By Courtnee Turner Hoyle

Can she see clearly through her rose-colored glasses?

Sydney Miller has experienced loss during her short sixteen years. Choosing to mostly suppress her gift, Sydney avoids reading the minds of others, and when she falls in love with Brett Cannon, she find

• Language: English
• Publisher: Courtnee Turner Hoyle, Author
• Release date: Feb 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798987646809

Courtnee Turner Hoyle

Courtnee Turner Hoyle is a travel agent, mom, multi-genre writer, and an award-winning author of the books in the Pale Woods Mystery Series, It's About Time Series, and Rasputin's Dynasty Trilogy, in addition to several stand-alone novels and a few short stories that have been anthologized. The first book in her Pale Woods Mystery Series, My Brother's Keeper, has won five awards. The culture and views of her Tennessee home have forced her to find her own perspective. While she may embrace the traditions of her area, she has set non-negotiable boundaries, especially against sweet tea, chocolate, and unannounced visitors. Courtnee graduated from East Tennessee State University with multiple undergraduate degrees and a master's degree and developed unique ways of dividing the personalities of the people in her life to create quirky, relatable characters. She belongs to the Lost State Writer's Guild, and she volunteers with several local organizations. She encourages you to write splendid reviews of her books on any platform, especially on Goodreads, BookBub, and Amazon. Good reviews from her readers make her jump up and down in her kitchen and spin her children around happily. Courtnee lives with her husband and numerous children, braving the adventures of homeschooling and tree climbing, and believes there is a story in every experience. Learn more about Courtnee, her hometown adventures, and her books by visiting www.courtneeturnerhoyle.com, plucking the leaves of her Link Tree (linktr.ee/Courtnee_ ), and on Instagram @pale_woods_mysteries to discover her Facebook, BookBub, Goodreads, TikTok, YouTube, and other accounts.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I finally understood what it meant to feel loved!

The sunset was more fantastic, the air was crisper, and my life was better. It only took Brett’s dazzling smile to make me feel giddy and alive.

Brett Cannon had been my boyfriend for almost a year and tonight he had kissed me and said the three little words I never thought I’d hear. I had returned the sentiment before he could finish his thought. He smiled and kissed me again.

We soaked up a full moon by the Nolichucky River. I had told my mom that I was going to the movies with Brett, but we picked up a pizza and ate it by the river as the sunset.

Brett stole a look at his phone. Hey! We better get you back home before your mother realizes that we didn’t see a show!

I eased against his chest for another kiss. He held my chin and stared into my eyes. His blond hair lay across his forehead in layered edges that reflected the moonlight.

You have the most beautiful eyes, he said. Sunset eyes.

This was one of the most romantic moments in my life, but I couldn’t stifle the laughter that burst from my chest. Brett dropped my chin and looked away. He didn’t try to camouflage his hurt feelings.

"Sunset eyes?" I had read a few romance novels and watched a lot of love stories, but I had never heard of sunset eyes. I’m sorry, I said through my laughter. It’s just no one has ever said that about my plain, brown eyes.

I had blossomed into a teenager in a timely fashion, filling out in the right places and losing the awkwardness of my childhood. However, my chestnut hair lacked natural highlights and my skin freckled easily.

Brett quickly understood and held me against him. You’re anything but plain. You are extraordinary, like the sun against the mountains as it casts its radiance one more time before leaving us in the dark. He motioned in the direction the sun had chosen to lay down against the mountain.

Brett’s words choked my laughter and brought me back into the moment. I softened my expression and I pushed myself as close to Brett as I could without being molded to him.

We shared a few moments in comfortable silence. Time could have passed us by like the river and I wouldn’t have cared.

Brett gently moved me as he prepared to go. I would have loved to have stayed longer, but I knew that he was right. We should go so that my mom wouldn’t freak out. As long as my mom was happy, I would be able to enjoy many more dates with Brett.

I was surprised that I had gotten to go out with Brett in the first place. If Lewis Novack, my mom’s boyfriend, and long-time police officer, hadn’t promised to secretly keep an eye on us, I would never have been allowed to develop the relationship Brett and I now shared.

I helped Brett fold the blanket and gather the trash from our pizza picnic. My hand brushed his as I placed the star chart on top of the blanket I’d handed him. I locked eyes with him, and for once, I felt completely normal.

Brett held the door open for me to climb into his gray Honda Civic, and he walked around to the driver’s side. In those few seconds, I took in all the things Brett held dear.

Adults keep their most treasured items in their home, but a teenager keeps their prized possessions in their car. You never knew when your parents would snoop through the stuff in your room.

Brett's library books lay on the floorboard at my feet, his blue and white football jersey had been waded up on the dashboard. A vanilla air freshener dangled from his rearview mirror. Vanilla was my favorite scent, and I inhaled the aroma. The smell brought back a memory of my grandpa and I quickly pushed it away.

I caught a glimpse of something taped near his speedometer. I leaned over a little and took in a professional school picture of a girl. The girl was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and she was dressed in blue jeans and a light blue button-up shirt. Her hand rested under her chin, and she leaned on her elbow, flashing a bright, white smile at the camera. Could she have been Brett’s girlfriend from his last school?

Brett had moved from Johnson City the previous year. After looking around at my beautiful home surrounded by mountains, I thought that the only advantage of living in Johnson City was faster access to more chain restaurants, hotels, and a university.

East Tennessee State University had the largest campus in Northeast Tennessee. Brett and I had already applied for admission. I had received my letter of acceptance, and Brett was expecting his acceptance letter any day now.

The university would have no problem accepting Brett. He was almost smarter than me, and we sometimes playfully teased each other about who was the most intelligent.

Brett had entered Pale Woods Academy with high honors. He told me that his mother had been trying to get him into Pale Woods for years and a scholarship finally became available for him.

I understood the need to have a scholarship to attend Pale Woods. I could afford the tuition now, but my mom couldn't have sacrificed the money from her budget to pay the tuition for my sister and me to learn at Pale Woods Academy. If my sister, Ella, hadn't been a genius, I would have been subjected to a mundane public school.

Brett started his junior year with teachers commending his scholastic talents and girls swooning in his wake. He always knew the answer to every question in class, but he wasn’t cocky about it. He had a way of speaking that made you feel like he cared about what you had to say. Our English teacher called him charismatic when she talked about his charms.

I never thought I’d have a chance with the beautiful new boy. I had an advanced biology class with him, but I couldn’t even look at him without blushing.

Brett came over to my seat after class one day. I was humming Stairway to Heaven and collecting my books from under my chair. When I looked up, he was inches from my face.

Hey, Sydney, he said casually, and I fell out of my seat.

I tried to recover quickly, but as I tried to get up, my foot slipped on a sheet of carelessly discarded notebook paper and my butt hit the ground again.

He realized that he had startled me and offered his hand. I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was there, and you were just ignoring me, as usual.

Ignoring him? I hadn’t spoken to him very often, but I didn’t think I had ignored him. I had always returned his greetings when we passed each other in the halls, and I had even wished him luck when I had signed a petition that allowed him to try out for the baseball team.

Brett looked wounded as he helped me back into my seat. I almost lost myself in his crystal blue eyes, but I quickly found my wits.

I’m sorry if you think I’ve been ignoring you, Brett. My voice sounded shaky and alien to me.

Brett’s posture straightened and his smile returned. You know my name. That’s a start.

Why wouldn’t I know his name? There were only a couple hundred students from kindergarten to twelfth grade attending Pale Woods and teachers and students gossiped for days over new students.

What did you need? I realized that I sounded harsh a little too late to alter my tone.

The hurt look returned to Brett’s face, and he dropped my hand. I didn’t mean to bother you, Sydney. I just wanted your opinion on something.

I could not believe how seriously I was blowing my talk with Brett. I put my hand on his arm and he looked down at my touch.

I’m sorry if I sounded unkind. I was just in a hurry.

I know you gotta walk to history next, but maybe I could walk with you? Brett asked.

How do you know what class I have next?

Brett blushed. I’ve noticed you in the hall.

He picked up my books before I could protest. My mom would have been so upset if she’d known I wasn’t exerting my independence from the male species.

I’ve tried to talk to you a couple of times, Brett said, but you just brush me off.

I hoped the surprise I felt didn’t show on my face.

I carefully got out of my seat, making a conscious effort to put one foot in front of the other. Please don’t fall, I inwardly told my feet.

Brett didn’t speak until we were surrounded by the noise of students in the hall. He had to speak over other conversations, banging lockers, and squeaky tennis shoes.

I spotted Lily Shelton by her locker and nodded. Lily’s chin dropped. Eat your heart out, I thought.

Lily Shelton had been Lydia Sneed in what seemed like another life. During our eighth-grade year, my pseudo friend had become my dearest friend after she learned about a scandal that had been covered up by the people she had thought were her parents. Lily had spent her time in high school trying to make up for the way she had treated people during what she called her Sneed years.

She had grown into a young woman, with rounder curves and a clearer complexion than me. She had trimmed her blonde hair to just past her shoulders, but it still swayed in silky time with her movements.

Lily was a more considerate and kinder person, but she still acted arrogant sometimes. She had claimed Brett as soon as he had entered the school, but she hadn’t realized her crush was one-sided. Brett never even looked in her direction.

I have this problem. He looked sideways at me. Speedy and Enraged 9 comes out this Friday, and I don’t know how to get to the theater. Brett smiled with all his teeth.

I missed the joke entirely. The theater’s in the middle of town, across from the courthouse.

Brett chuckled. "I don’t follow directions well. Maybe you could show me?"

I finally understood and smacked my forehead. I felt the sting of my hand and realized Brett must think I was stupid and crazy at the same time. I rubbed my head and felt the heat of the spreading red mark.

Don’t be so hard on yourself. The smile was still there.

I should have been dancing for joy that Brett had asked me out, but I was mortified. If I kept showing my clumsy side around him, like falling out of my seat and smacking myself silly, what would I do on a date? Would I trip in front of his car or throw up on him?

Brett stopped walking and turned to me in the middle of the busy hallway. I was mesmerized by him, but I noticed that a lot of kids were looking at us and talking behind cupped hands. I could have easily read their minds, but I didn’t do that very much anymore. I imagined their concealed words were about me.

Why does Brett want to talk to her?

Does she think she’s pretty or interesting enough to hold his attention?

Sure, I said, and I gave Brett my phone number.

I had hardly touched the seat in my next class when I felt my phone vibrate, signaling a new text or voice mail message. I never got messages while I was at school, so I panicked. My thoughts went straight to my sister and her delicate mental condition. Had Ella finally snapped?

I eased my phone out of my purse and pretended to look in my lap at my notebook. My physics teacher, Mr. Light, would not have embarrassed me or given me detention for looking at my messages before class, but I didn’t want to risk disappointing him. All my teachers loved me, and they expected nothing but the best marks and behavior from me.

I pressed the button on the side of my smartphone and the screen lit up. A picture of my mom, my sister, and I flashed onto the screen. The picture was a memory of our river rafting trip down the Nolichucky River. Nolichucky meant River of Death in Cherokee, but the people in our town forget about the numerous lives the river had claimed when the temperatures climbed into the nineties. My family was no different. Our faces were sunburned, and we were soaked, but the smiles in the picture reflected the fun we’d had that day. Even Ella, who was constantly haunted, had seemed less distracted by otherworldly beings during our tumultuous ride down the river.

I pressed the glowing envelope that indicated I had a text message. The screen popped up the message, and an unfamiliar number preceded the text.

I started thinking that you didn’t have my number and I worried that you wouldn’t answer my call if you didn’t recognize the number. By the way, you look amazing in red. –Brett

I should have breathed a sigh of relief, but the air was stuck in my throat. Ella and my mom weren’t in danger, but my blood was racing just like I’d received a troubling message. I looked down at my shirt. It was a pretty red blouse, but I had never been told I looked nice in a certain color. I took a mental inventory of my clothes. I would have to buy more red.

I reviewed the text a hundred times over the next couple of days, and I tried not to analyze the word worried too much. I was afraid I would make my relationship with Brett more than what he expected.

I had never been on a date. Lily and I had gone to school dances together, as she felt sorry for me, and I had never really liked anyone at Pale Woods. Well, I had liked a boy, and I had even kissed him, but it was an awkward moment that I wanted to erase from my mind.

I called my mom and told her about my plans. She had left work immediately, claiming that she was feeling sick, and raced home to help me get ready. I tried to explain to her that the date was days away, but my mom insisted on picking out clothes and painting my nails. I enjoyed the attention, so I didn’t object when my mom picked out a red dress from her closet and chose a soft brown color for my nails.

Brett had picked me up at six o'clock that Friday night. I had been looking out of my bedroom window for his car, and as soon as I saw it in the driveway, I ran out to intercept him. I didn’t want to press my luck with my new admirer, as there was no way that he was ready for my family.

He turned off the car and got out. Am I going to meet your parents before we go out?

I took in his brown striped button-up shirt and stylishly holey jeans. His blond hair shone in the last rays of afternoon sunlight.

No, my mom won’t be home until later. I told her I was going out with you, I said in a rush.

Brett smiled and I realized what I’d said. I had made it seem like he was my boyfriend. I felt the embarrassment race over my entire body.

So, we’re dating now? he asked with a good-natured smile.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—

No, I’m glad we got that out of the way, Brett said, putting his arm around me. I enjoyed the warmth of his limb, but it felt awkward against the bones of my shoulder. I was nervous about how I was going to ask you anyway. You just saved me some embarrassment.

I didn’t know what had just happened. Was I Brett’s girlfriend now?

Brett took my hand and guided me into his car. He smelled like sweet linens or the scent I imagined when I thought about sweet linens.

I drew back a step to let him open the car door for me, but he pulled me against him. I forgot my name and I think the earth stopped moving.

He looked down into my eyes, and I realized our height difference. I was just over five feet, and he was almost a foot taller than me.

You smell like fresh-cut roses, he said.

I couldn’t think of anything to say. No one had ever told me that I smelled like anything unless I needed a bath.

When he backed to the end of the driveway and looked for traffic, I looked out my window for approaching vehicles. It took a minute for me to realize that the street was clear, but the car wasn’t moving. I turned to see if there was a vehicle coming in the other direction, and I caught Brett staring at me.

You really are beautiful, he whispered. His lowered voice made me want to shiver. He brought his hand up to my face and brushed his fingers across my cheek.

I was absorbed in embarrassment. A fine layer of sweat coated my body as heat spread over me.

Again, I was at a loss for words. I had never had a boyfriend before, but I had heard about other girls’ boyfriends, and they had never said that they had complimented them so sincerely.

Brett cleared his throat and backed the car out onto the road. He drove to the theater, without asking me for directions, and parked in the courthouse parking lot.

He opened my door, and we walked the short distance across the street to the theater. He held my hand as we crossed the street and opened the door to the theater.

I took in the heavy scent of buttered popcorn as Brett paid for our tickets. Brett’s cologne overpowered the popcorn when he placed his hand on my shoulder.

Do you want some popcorn or a drink? Maybe some candy?

I could use some water. I didn’t admit that I hadn’t been able to eat all day because I had been so nervous about our date.

Brett paid for two bottles of water and a small bag of popcorn while I pretended to look at the upcoming movie posters. Again, I knew Brett was behind me before he spoke. What was the name of that cologne?

Are you ready? he asked.

I nodded and we climbed the stairs to the first theater. There were two theaters in the small Erwin cinema, and I could hear the pounding of the movie from the theater above us.

Brett popped a piece of gum into his mouth as soon as he sat down. Do you want some? he offered.

I took a piece of gum. We were twenty minutes early for the movie, and by the time the trailers started, I was comfortable around Brett. The stories he told were hilarious. During the opening credits, it felt natural when he held my hand, and by the end of the movie, he and I had exchanged gum several times.

I thought back to the time after my first date with Brett. We had been happily inseparable since our first trip to the movies. I was still uncomfortable when Brett was around my family, but I had been able to limit his exposure to their strangeness.

Brett’s parents worked at night, so they slept during the day. I had heard them getting ready for work one night when I’d called Brett. They sounded like a happy, well-adjusted family. I hadn’t asked him a lot about his past, as I didn’t want to possibly hear about another girlfriend, but he'd always been open with me.

The thoughts of our first encounters slid through my mind in seconds. Brett opened his door and dropped into his seat, while I stared straight ahead.

Brett didn’t sense anything was wrong until we were almost at my house. He hummed a happy tune that I didn’t recognize.

You’re quiet.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say.

He pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He looked at me with only the streetlamps lighting his angular face.

What’s wrong, Syd?

I had always corrected anyone who tried to shorten my name, but it sounded so sweet when Brett said it. I didn’t give in to him, though. I looked out my window and kept a rigid posture. I didn’t want to spoil our night, but I needed to set my mind at ease.

I got to the source of my silence right away. Who is the girl in the picture? Is she a girlfriend from your other school?

At first, Brett looked confused. Then, he glanced over at the picture taped to the dash and smiled. He peeled the picture from its place and handed it to me. I took the picture and looked again at the girl’s incredible smile. Savannah was written on the bottom border.

My sister, he said with pride.

I wanted to melt through the car and into the center of the earth. I felt embarrassed and disappointed in myself. I had questioned Brett’s trust within moments of professing my undying love and devotion to him.

I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions.

It’s okay, he said, taking the picture back. He looked at it for a moment. I loved this picture. It was her sophomore year school picture. She hated it, but I think she looks just like Mom.

I put my hand on his arm. Really, I am so sorry. I should never have brought it up.

He put the picture back in place. Of course you should have said something. If I had seen some dude’s picture in your car, I would’ve asked.

I thought about my brothers. They had been about my age when they died, but my mom had put away most of their pictures. It was a painful reminder of a harder time.

I still kept a small picture of my brothers and me that I had stolen from one of my mom’s photo albums. Sometimes, I still looked at it when I felt like the world was cruel and unfair.

Brett lifted my chin with his hand. I mean it when I tell you I love you. Do you doubt me?

No, do you doubt me? I asked in a whisper I only used with Brett.

Never.

He started the car, and we held hands until we pulled into my driveway. He didn’t even let go when he had to shift gears, he just moved my hand in a steady motion with his own. He squeezed my hand once before he released it and climbed out of the car. I waited as he rounded the car to open my door.

The worst part of any evening with Brett was when he took me home. Not only did it mean that I would be separated from him, but it also meant that my family would have another chance to embarrass me.

The outside light was on, and my sister was doing a poor job of hiding her face in the living room window. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

I think we have an audience, Brett said with a wink. He pulled me close and whispered, I don’t mind giving her something to talk about. Brett looked into my eyes and leaned in to kiss me. I returned every moment of the kiss and became lost in the warmth of his love.

Brett pulled away first. I don’t want to get you in trouble. Remember that you have my heart. Will you keep it safe?

Yes. I couldn’t think of a response that matched the romance in Brett’s words.

Good. Then I’ll see you in calculus tomorrow. Brett walked to his car and turned around. He blew me a kiss, which I caught, and returned.

I love you, Sydney, he said in a voice only I could hear.

I love you, Brett.

I watched his car until I couldn’t make out the brake lights in the night. Then I turned my key in the lock and opened the door to face what was left of my family.

Chapter 2

Ella was just inside the door with her hand on her hip. She had just started wearing makeup around her aqua eyes and the mellow interior light made her features look softer and more feminine.

That was one of the grossest displays I have ever seen, she said, tapping her foot. The movement caused her blonde curls to bounce.

Well, you haven’t been to many places, I quipped.

Ella’s almond eyes widened. At least I do not get around as much as you!

Ella! I admonished. You make it sound like I’ve been dating every boy in town. It was just a kiss!

A kiss leads to other things.

Of course it does, I said, lifting my nose into the air. Mom’s kiss with Dad led to a happy marriage.

Their marriage was only air-tight on the surface, Ella scoffed. You know they shared more lies than there are leaves on a tree.

Ella had never seen our father giddily sweep our mom off her feet and twirl her through the air. My sister hadn’t felt the affection, like warm-glowing honey, radiate from their bodies and minds.

"They were happy." I gritted my teeth and put force behind the words.

It sounds like you are trying to convince yourself of that more than you are me. Ella raised her eyebrow in an annoying way that made me want to throttle her.

I opened my mouth to say something horrible and regrettable, but my mom’s boyfriend froze the words in my mouth.

Ladies, he said, holding up his hand in a greeting. His smile was warm and genuine.

Detective Lewis Novack had been dating my mom and putting up with our crazy family for three years. He had worked in the police force beside my grandpa, and they had been close friends. My grandpa had even left Lewis a truck in his will. The truck was a beat-up old Chevrolet, but Lewis kept it clean and waxed like it was fresh from the car lot.

Lewis had to be in his forties, but he looked young and firm. His job helped keep him fit, and he ate well. He had serious blue eyes and a full head of blond hair that was cut to fade down to his neck.

Lewis deserved a medal for dealing with the chaos that followed my mom’s family. He had told my mom about her father’s passing, he had comforted her during my grandpa’s burial and will reading, and I had heard him consoling her on nights she broke down from grief and stress.

I liked Lewis and I thought he was good for my mom, but I wished she was just as good for him. I had brushed his mind a couple of times when he had started dating my mom, just to read his surface thoughts, and I could tell he had good intentions. Something Ella had said about Lewis’s mind being a haunted house kept me from penetrating his mind any further. I didn’t like to use my gift anyway.

What’s up, girls? Lewis asked. He had a bowl of popcorn under his arm. When Ella rolled her eyes and looked away, Lewis turned to me. How was the date with Brent?

Lewis always messed up Brett’s name on purpose. It was a running joke with us, and I didn’t mind.

"My date with Brett was wonderful."

Yeah, Ella said. "It must have been so wonderful to stay glued to his face for three hours."

Lewis looked at Ella sharply. He wanted to say something to her, but he remembered his place and turned back to me.

I’m glad you had a fun time. His tone was less inflated. Do you want to watch a movie?

The offer was only for me. Ella turned on her heels and climbed the stairs.

Lewis had tried to be courteous and respectful toward Ella. He assured her that he was not attempting to replace her father and that he was trying to get to know our mother. Ella had accused him of taking advantage of our vulnerable parent and her daughters. Lewis had been hurt, but he had continued to be amiable to Ella. The years had worn him down, though, and it was apparent that he had to make a considerable effort to be cordial to my sister.

I had tried to make Lewis feel like a part of the family since my mom’s last crying jag. Ella had said something unforgivable —that she probably didn’t even remember—and my mom had begged us to be kind to Lewis.

It wasn't like my mother had a revolving door with boyfriends, as Lewis was only her third romantic entanglement. She had dated Lily’s father, Bryan Shelton, briefly before she met and married my father.

I had liked Bryan in the short time I had known him, but between his tattoos and temper, I wondered what my mom had seen in him. I remembered small scenes with my father, but most of my memories of him were tainted with the black cloud of doubt and dread that followed him in his final days. Lewis had been the most positive male figure in my life, aside from my deceased grandpa.

Lewis continued to smile, trying to seem unaffected by Ella’s abrupt withdrawal. He moved his hand in a sweeping gesture toward the living room.

I would love to. I followed Lewis into the living room.

Our home had stayed almost the same since I had been born. Our two-story house rested on the main street in the town. It was comprised of strong rock from the Nolichucky River and the rooms contained hand-crafted woodwork from the 1920s. Each bedroom had a bookshelf built into the wall, and the baseboards throughout the interior were lined with intricate designs fashioned by a gifted hand.

The bedrooms and two larger bathrooms were upstairs. A walk-in closet and laundry room had been added to my mom’s bathroom in the 1990s before my parents bought the house. A remodeled galley kitchen ran along the back of the downstairs, with a small dining room to its right. A short hallway led to the utility-sized bathroom or opened up into a large living room.

The cream-colored walls boasted my most recent school picture. An embarrassing snapshot of my junior year smiled back at me, and I was thankful that my mom had sprung for the picture to be retouched. I had a smooth complexion, but I had noticed a few short fly-aways on top of my head in the picture proof, evidence that straightening your hair from root to tip damages even the hardiest hair types.

I seated myself next to Lewis on our springy sofa. He grabbed the remote-always within his arm’s reach-and turned on the TeleBoard.

The TeleBoard had replaced the television a little over a year after its sister, the MusicBoard, had been released to the general public. Both devices were celebrated for their accuracy in analyzing a person’s mood and choosing the best song, movie, or show for them. Lily once told me about the mechanics behind the operation but my eyes glazed over after she mentioned the increased interest in primary color pixel emissions and the science behind the board’s evaluation of dopamine and melatonin levels in the brain.

The man Lily had believed was her father until she was thirteen, Bannon Sneed, had developed most of the technology involved in the development of both devices, but he had seen none of the profit from the sales. Bannon Sneed was still in prison for the murders of his wife and my grandpa, and the attempted murder of Lily’s real father, Bryan Shelton.

Lewis started crunching popcorn while we waited. He rattled the bowl in my direction, but I waved it away. Brett always overfed me on our dates.

The TeleBoard was an expensive piece of technology, especially the first year after its debut, and my family probably wouldn’t have had one if Lewis hadn’t won it in a radio contest and insisted on putting it in our home. He said he never stayed at his house anymore, and he wanted to share his good fortune with us.

I had a feeling Lewis hadn't won the TeleBoard, but he had bought it after my mom had expressed her admiration for the device. My mom never would have let her boyfriend give her such an expensive present, so Lewis had probably made up the story about the radio contest.

The TeleBoard read our moods and picked a comedy for us to watch. I glanced over at Lewis, and he smiled at me, giving me a warm feeling of acceptance. Maybe that was what it felt like to have a dad.

I tried to shrug the sentimental thought away, and I concentrated on the movie. Midway through the movie, my mom came in with groceries and excuses.

My mom worked as an editor. She claimed her wide vocabulary and knowledge about history and current events were the reason for her children's genius. I admit, I possessed a broader grasp of the English language than most teens my age, and she had produced reasonably smart children, but Jarrod used to hide metal cars in stoves, and I had once thought Big Ben was a person.

My mom released her long auburn hair from the clip that had held it through her workday. Her face was harried, but beautiful, with only mascara enhancing her hazel eyes.

I had to work late, she said breathlessly. I stopped by the store and picked up a cooked chicken.

Lewis’s jaw flexed. I’m glad you’re here. I’ll cut the chicken while you set out the plates.

I excused myself, as I had eaten pizza on my date, but I stopped at the top of the stairs and sat down. I was too happy to be with Ella, but I was sure that I shouldn’t interfere with whatever conversation was about to take place.

I was probably violating a thousand rules of privacy, but I decided to listen to Lewis’s exchange with my mom. I had been worried about their relationship for about a month, and I wanted to see if there was anything I could subtly resolve to help them get over whatever was coming between them.

The acoustics on the stairs were pretty good, and Lewis and my mom’s voices carried easily to my prying ears. It didn’t take long for Lewis to say how he was feeling.

What are we doing, Miranda?

Preparing dinner. She hated to talk about her feelings, and she would try to get out of discussing her level of commitment to her current relationship at all costs.

I don’t need you to be cute. He didn’t yell, but his words were forceful.

My mom was used to sweeping things under the rug, and slamming silverware hinted at her irritation. She didn’t want to talk, and Lewis commanded her attention.

Can we discuss this after dinner or when the girls are asleep? my mom said, trying to reassert some control over the situation.

No. Now is a good time.

I heard the sharp clang of the silverware, indicating that my mom had thrown the utensils against the wall.

Great. It was going to be one of those fights.

Fine! my mom yelled. Let’s talk. At least the timing will be good for one of us!

What’s that supposed to mean? Lewis demanded.

"If you had to do something at work, then whatever I had to say would have to wait."

That’s not fair, Lewis shot back. You knew about my job before we started dating. Your father was the Chief of Police for heaven’s sake! Besides, I don’t bother you at work, so how can you say I only want to talk to you when it’s convenient for me? We're both here now, and it’s time to talk about our future.

I was sure that Lewis was getting a terrible stare, but he wasn’t the type of man that was easily scared by my mom’s anger. He had handled her scornful remarks many times.

Do you even see me in your life? he persisted.

My mom took a long moment to answer, and I tried to focus all my energy on her next words. Please let her say something nice.

No. The word barely reached my ears, but it reverberated in my head.

Lewis slammed his fist on the table. A chair scraped across the floor, and I imagined he had sat down.

What do you want from me, Miranda? His reply mirrored his exasperation.

"I didn't ask you to do anything." I felt an unexpected emotional flare from her.

That’s not what I mean, and you know it, Lewis spat. He took another breath and continued in a kinder tone. I have loved you and emotionally supported you for three years. I have tried to love your girls and treat them with respect, no matter how much contempt Ella has for me. What more do I have to do to show you that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you?

I don’t know, Lewis, my mom groaned. She tried to camouflage her feelings, but they were beginning to betray her.

I thought I heard tears in my mom’s voice, and I hoped she drowned in them. She should never have broken Lewis’s heart.

I think I know my mistake, Lewis said.

Don’t—

No, Lewis insisted. He choked back emotion. My mistake was thinking my love for you was strong enough for both of us. I honestly thought you’d accept my proposal.

I remembered Lewis’s summer-time proposal, as I had helped orchestrate the events. At first, it seemed my mom had accepted the idea of remarrying, but somehow that day had marked a turning point in her once-satisfying relationship with Lewis.

"I didn't say no," my mom managed between sobs.

You didn’t have to. The tears that had lined his words had dried. I could tell from your reaction that you didn’t want to marry me.

It was just bad timing.

Why? Lewis asked, his voice rising. Is it because you would have to hear snide remarks from Ella? Or is it because you can’t love a man until he’s dead? Maybe I should go shoot myself in the head. Will I be good enough for you then?

The blow was so below the belt that it stung me. Lewis must have really been hurt.

My mom sobbed uncontrollably. I felt my first stab of pity for her.

The chair shifted. Heavy footfalls padded the linoleum.

I’m sorry. His voice was softer. I should never have said that.

I t-told you I l-loved you, my mom told him as she cried.

I know you did, Lewis agreed, speaking as if to a small, wounded child. Maybe that’s why I’m so confused.

What are you doing? said a voice behind me.

Electric shocks went through my body. My brain screamed I’m caught! and I had to hold my legs to keep them from sprinting down the stairs and out the door.

I realized it was my sister, and my adrenaline slowed. "What are you doing?"

I was going to see what all the yelling was about, but I guess you beat me to it.

I wanted to send back a witty response, but I could hear Lewis and my mom talking again. Shh, I told my sister, waving her away. Ella sat beside me and listened, her elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her hands.

I’ve tried to talk to you for the past month, Lewis said, but you’re always at work or sleeping. I feel like you’re trying to avoid me.

I have been working a lot, my mom admitted. She sounded calmer. I guess all those extra hours have made me a little tired.

You worked over sixty hours last week. Of course you’re tired. Lewis cleared his throat. So, what do we do now?

There was a long silence. I thought they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

I guess it's over. There was a delicate finality in her voice.

Are you sure this is what you want? He sounded stronger than I would have been if Brett had broken my heart.

Yes.

I wished she sounded less convincing.

The chair rubbed the floor again as Lewis stood. Then all I can say is that I love you, and —there was a short pause during which I was sure Lewis kissed my mom— goodbye.

I heard a rustle as Lewis let go of my mom, as they hadn’t fully released one another until Lewis slipped away. His heavy boots padded across our floor, and a metal ding announced the return of our house key to the table beside the door. Lewis opened the door and stepped out, shutting it, and us, behind him.

After the door closed my mom let out a wail of pain, but Ella and I didn't go to her. My sister embraced me and held me for several minutes as we listened to our mom’s spirit break.

Finally, Ella and I got up and walked to our room. A new era of sadness had consumed our house.

Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning feeling empty. A light rain had fallen on the autumn leaves, but the sun was up, drying the evidence of moisture.

I was upset over my mom’s breakup with Lewis, but I was sure a morning kiss from Brett would make me feel warmer and happier.

I rushed through my morning routine, putting gel into my hair instead of taking the time to straighten it, and ran down the stairs. I paused in the short hallway between the living room and the kitchen.

My mom was usually dressed and pulling open cabinets, making breakfast, and watching the local news, but she was still in her house coat. She slumped over the kitchen table, staring into a cup of juice.

I turned around and went back upstairs to warn my sister. She was almost finished applying a thin line of eyeliner to her eyes.

Mom is super depressed.

Ella smiled. You are kidding! Maybe she should be jumping up and down over her lost love.

Don’t be a jerk, I said, narrowing my eyes. At least I tried to help their relationship grow instead of destroying it.

I only tried to make them see the inevitable. Ella pulled her hair through a ponytail ring.

You talk to the dead, little sister, you can’t tell the future, I reminded her.

How do you know? Ella sneered. Two spots of color had appeared on her cheeks, and they weren’t the product of makeup. You use your gift when it is convenient for you and discard it when it becomes socially awkward. After all, what would precious little Brett have to say about you if he knew you could read his mind?

He would still love me, I said confidently, but I thought he’d run in the other direction.

Why not tell him then? my sister mocked. What is true love without honesty?

I prepared a response that would start a full-scale argument, but my mom picked that moment to trudge down the hallway, scuffing her slippered feet. My sister and I looked in her direction at the same time and said a cheerful, Good morning!

Our mom glanced up at us, her red-rimmed eyes taking in our over-indulgent attitudes, and then lowered her head. She continued her walk down the hall and went