we opened the door and looked in on those ugly hidden

  things and walked away, and kept on walking until we found

  our own ideal Omelas. A place where it’s easier for the

  newcomer to justify the nameless kid in the basement,

  afraid of the dry and crusty mops. No matter where you end

  up, no place is perfect, and what counts is that you’re

  happy. Everywhere has its problems. You have to find the

  one where you can overlook the bad, or even work to make

  it better, as well as live the life you want to lead.”

  She glanced back at Eugenia, glad to see her nodding.

  The seniors had set their course by now, but her old teacher

  wanted her to open the horizons of those kids still making

  those future plans. They had this year and next to decide

  what would come next. It was plenty of time, but having a

  plan you believed in would help with those parents who

  wanted to keep their chicks in the nest. What she was trying

  to do was give these kids a permission slip, making it okay

  to want something different. She wanted them to feel good

  about picking a course that would make them happy.

  “I’m back to reflect on all those choices I made when I

  decided to walk away. You’re just starting out, so don’t feel

  bad for whatever you decide when it’s your turn to walk to

  that basement door and look in. In the end, we all end up in

  a city named Omelas.” She paused and let what she’d just

  said steep for a moment before she wrapped up for the day.

  “If no one has any questions, I want to thank you for your

  attention and participation. I’m thinking you’ll all make

  wonderful college students if that’s where you’re headed. If

  it isn’t, well that’s okay too, but don’t forget to keep reading

  even after they hand you the sheepskin. Life can teach you

  plenty, but don’t knock the power of a good story.”

  The students came up and thanked her and shook her

  hand, asking questions about the next level of their

  education, and that was the best reward of the day. The

  teachers in attendance were next, and by the time the

  mutual admiration was finished, she was hungry. Jaxon

  declined the offer of the school cafeteria experience and

  headed into town to one of the local cafés.

  “Hey, baby, I just finished, and I’m headed to lunch. Call

  me when you’re free. Have a good day, and I love you.” The

  day reminded her of all the things she loved about teaching

  as well as all the things she didn’t miss about this place.

  That redheaded kid either had to evolve or spend the rest of

  his life with friends who also enjoyed dragging their

  knuckles on the ground.

  “Lunch?” the woman at the diner asked.

  “Yes, please, and it’s just me.” Thankfully that wasn’t

  true any longer.

  * * *

  The Formica-topped table had been cleared of the fried

  catfish lunch Jaxon had ordered. A platter of cholesterol

  wasn’t her usual fare, but there were some perks to being in

  south Louisiana. The food wasn’t good for you, perhaps, but

  it was good. The waitress hadn’t minded her occupying a

  table for a couple of hours, so she’d ordered coffee and was

  on her third cup. She’d split the time watching the world go

  by and grading papers.

  She circled the C she’d placed in the upper right-hand

  corner of the page and was writing some notes in the

  margin when she heard someone clear their throat, a sound

  she’d know if she was locked in a dark room. Her mistake

  was relaxing out in public and not in her room where there

  was a lock on her side of the door. “Mother, I didn’t think

  you ate out in town.”

  “I never will figure out where I went wrong with you. After

  not seeing your family for years, that’s the only thing that

  comes to mind when you see me?” Her mother sat across

  from her and wiped that side of the table with a napkin. “We

  could all be dead, and you’d never know it.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” She stacked the essays and

  pushed them aside. “You told me sixteen years ago to leave

  your house and you’d washed your hands of me.” Her

  mother opened her mouth, and she recognized the

  expression of a woman who loved to change history. “Don’t

  even try it. Those words are branded into my soul. I’d forget

  my name before I forget what you said.”

  “Always so dramatic,” her mother said as if they were

  talking about the weather.

  “No, Mother. I gave you what you wanted, and I’m sure

  you’ve played the martyr to the hilt from the moment I left.

  The one who could’ve been dead was me. Everything I

  made of myself from the second I left has nothing to do with

  you. Why are you even here?”

  “Why are you here? What’s so important that you came

  back now?”

  The waitress held up the coffeepot out of her mother’s

  view, and she smiled and shook her head. Leave it to her

  mother to have this conversation here, of all places. But at

  least she could get it over with.

  “You’ve proven you care nothing about your family and

  our wishes.”

  “What exactly is that supposed to mean? You asked me

  to leave, and I left. I did exactly what you asked.” What was

  wrong with her mother? Would whatever afflicted her affect

  her and Margot’s kids? Not that she could get Margot

  pregnant, but thinking about that was better than whatever

  the hell this was.

  “You don’t think people here talk. They see you in those

  dreadful papers with that woman. Have you no idea how

  embarrassing it is for your father? After all the years he

  spent serving his country, he deserves better.” It was

  amazing how much emotion her mother could put into a

  conversation without ever unclenching her teeth. “What I

  did was to help you see that what you were doing was

  wrong.”

  “That woman has a name. It’s Margot Drake, and I love

  her. I’d say I was sorry that you don’t understand, but I’m

  never going to apologize for my feelings. To answer your

  question, the reason I’m here is because of Margot.”

  “What does she have to do with it? I’m sure you’ve filled

  everyone who’ll listen with vile lies about me and your

  father, but that woman doesn’t know me or my family.”

  “She wanted to see if we could work things out. I came to

  try, but it’s no use. You won’t ever admit you’re wrong, and

  I’m never going to bend to your will. That means it’s a

  stalemate. It’s not all bad. Once I leave this time, I won’t

  come back. You can be happy that I’ve given you what you

  wanted.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans, trying to let

  out some of the tension building into a headache.

  “You think I want this?” Her mother acted as if she had

  no idea why she was upset.

  “You’re the one who asked for it. That you came here to

  berate me for both not getting in touch and for being here

  at all, as well as for having the audacity to be in love with

  someone who ends up in the news, tells me all I need to

  know. You have no desire to have me in your life. Or is it

  that you’d like to add to the gossip supposedly still going

  around about me?” She placed her hands on the table and

  thought about flying home that night if she could get a

  flight. Her promise to talk to her mother had been fulfilled,

  and there was no going back.

  “Do you hate me that much?” Her mother finally showed

  some cracks in her armor.

  “No. You don’t get to make this about you. I’ve never

  hated you. What you can’t face is that I’m your child, and

  you threw me away. I wasn’t going to conform to what you

  wanted, and it made me defective. You threw me to the

  wolves, so they’d tear me to shreds, and I’d have no choice

  but to come crawling back.” Margot was right. Getting all

  this out in the open was cathartic. “But I made it without

  you, and I’m successful and happy despite your desire to

  break me. You’re going to have to live with that—I’ve made

  my peace with it.”

  “If that was true, you wouldn’t be here.” Her mother

  wasn’t one to give up easily.

  “Think whatever you want. I’m here for a fifteen-year

  class reunion. It makes no sense to me, but that’s all it is.

  There is no hidden agenda, and you can feel better about

  yourself for listing everything I’ll burn in hell for, and for

  making sure I feel less-than. Well done.”

  The deep breath her mother took made her think she

  was preparing for a second round, or had learned to spit

  fire, but she gripped her purse and left, her head held high.

  So much for touching reunions and seeing the error of their

  ways. Nothing here was ever going to change. This town

  was as timeless as the ancient oaks that’d stood guard over

  the land for hundreds of years. In people that quality was

  only honorable or beautiful if they evolved.

  Her mother proved they had not.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Do you mind if I sit for a minute?” The girl sounded both shy

  and uncertain.

  Jax lowered her hands enough to be able to see her. Her

  mother’s visit had made her want to scrub the frustration off

  her skin. She was about to tell whoever this was she wasn’t

  in a social mood when she really looked at her. “Jiminy

  Cricket.”

  It was like looking in a mirror and seeing your younger

  self. It was disconcerting. Who was this, and who exactly

  were her parents? The two twigs on their branch of the

  Lavigne family tree were her and her brother Roy, so unless

  he was holding out on her, the kid’s looks were a major

  coincidence.

  “Uh, sure.” She pointed to the seat across from her. She

  couldn’t stop openly staring, but the kid seemed to be doing

  the same thing.

  “I didn’t want to bother you, but I’d really like to talk to

  you.” The kid shrugged and Jax lowered her eyes to the

  jacket she had on. The letterman jacket had symbols for

  softball, track, basketball, and volleyball.

  She had to laugh at what ran through her head. If this kid

  had to share her face, it was good she wasn’t just smoking

  behind the gym. “Uh, okay.” She made a quick mental note

  to stop saying uh so much.

  “I’ve been waiting for the day you’d come back. My

  girlfriend told me you were here, so I hope you don’t mind

  me running over. If you’re in town for the reunion, I don’t

  have a lot of time.”

  The speed of the words made Jax want to tell her to take

  a breath before she passed out. “Is there anything in

  particular you need?” She blinked after saying that, wanting

  to add, aside from stealing my face, that is?

  “I was in Miss Landry’s class today when you taught.”

  “Ah, the kid in the back who never looked up. Did you

  think of something you wanted to ask me?” Thankfully this

  kid hadn’t raised her head. If she had, Jaxon would’ve

  forgotten her own name, much less the lecture she’d

  prepared. “It’s okay—I don’t mind. If you have a question, I’ll

  be happy to answer it.”

  The girl shook her head, still having trouble making eye

  contact. “No, I wanted…” She started but didn’t finish.

  “Let’s try something easier. What’s your name?”

  “Sean.”

  “That’s funny.” She cocked her head to the side and

  wanted to rush through the list of questions she needed

  answers to. “Not a lot of people know this, but my middle

  name is Sean. Nice to meet you, Sean. What can I do for

  you?”

  “I wanted to know if you’d tell me about you.” Sean

  raised her head for a second and quickly lowered it.

  “That’s a broad question. Can you narrow the scope a

  little? What did you want to talk to me about? And I’m

  guessing it was me specifically.” She kept her voice low, so

  as not to draw any attention to them, and Sean’s head

  came up, and she opened her mouth. She closed and

  opened it again, but nothing came out. Jax could tell she

  was upset when she saw her eyes, glassy with unshed tears.

  “Hey, hey, kid, what’s the matter?”

  “My dad knows you. He talks about you sometimes when

  he drinks and thinks my brother and me aren’t listening. He

  blames you for why my mom is the way she is. He doesn’t

  like you, and because I look like you, he doesn’t like me

  either. It made me want to know you.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “I didn’t either. Some asshole at school saw your picture

  in the trophy case, and they gave me crap about it. I found

  my mom’s old yearbooks and saw when you graduated. I

  asked Mom, but she doesn’t like to talk about you at all, so I

  thought maybe you’d talk to me.” Sean spit it out in a quick

  ramble before she dropped her head back down, her chin

  hitting her chest. The kid was going to have neck problems

  before she was twenty if this kept up.

  Jax took a deep breath, making her cheeks balloon out

  before letting it out in a slow stream. Unless she’d

  unknowingly slipped into a coma, she didn’t have any other

  family in this area aside from Roy. That’s who she figured

  Sean needed to be talking to. If he’d gotten some woman

  pregnant and left the child to be raised by some idiot, she’d

  be pissed with her brother, but it had nothing to do with her.

  “Okay, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, so let me ask

  you something. Who’re your parents?”

  Jax needed confirmation before the headache that was

  taking root at the base of her neck could blossom into

  something totally miserable.

  “Iris and Daniel Gravois.”

  Of course. If there was someone who wouldn’t like to

  raise a kid who looked like her, it’d be Daniel. Now if only a

  benevolent fairy would fly through the window, land on her

  shoulder, and tell her why he and Iris had a kid who looked

  like her. Jax escaped into her head a minute before thinking

  of something to answer all the questions Sean had.

  She could try to work between the lines and give Sean

  some answers, but the girl deserved better. The root of this

  problem didn’t actually rest with Daniel, but with Iris. “Ah,

  yes.” To think, she got paid to sound smart.

  “Do you know them?” Seeming braver, Sean lifted her

  head and just stared, appearing to be trying to memorize

  every line on her face.

  “Iris and Daniel? Yes, I do. I ran into your dad the day I

  got here when he stopped me for some reason. I thought I’d

  be fined, but he let me go. We weren’t great friends in high

  school, so I’m not sure how much I can help you with your

  questions.”

  “How about my mom?” Sean appeared glued to that

  seat, and she wasn’t moving until she got through all her

  questions.

  “Iris and I were friends,” she said, and Sean leaned

  closer. “We lost touch when I left for LSU, then to California

  for grad school.” She took the picture Sean held out. It was

  of her and Iris lying in the grass. It was a selfie taken with an

  old camera before people even used the term. She

  remembered the picture and where it was taken, but she

  couldn’t piece together why she was in this conversation. “I

  haven’t talked to her since a week after graduation.”

  “Did you like my mom when you lived here? And I mean

  like her.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re going for here, but like I said,

  that was a long time ago. The answers you’re looking for are

  out there, but you have to ask someone who was actually

  here.” The wheels of the train had not only left the track but

  fallen off a cliff. She had the urge to glance around to try to

  find the hidden cameras, so they could all laugh at how

  they’d punked her. Now she needed answers the same way

  Sean did.

  “I don’t look like my dad or my brother. At first I never

  thought about it, but when I was ten, I started feeling like I

  didn’t fit in. I started asking my mom, and she kept putting

  me off. She’s still doing that.” Sean’s lip trembled but she

  didn’t cry. “I didn’t think my dad would like it if I asked him.

  Tossing it in his face like that wouldn’t be a good idea.”