The charcoal clouds up above conspire with the frigid night air to usher in what will be this fall’s first snow flurry. It’s always been my favorite time of year, when fall lets go of its splendor and passes the baton to winter. As soon as Thanksgiving hits, it’s as if the whole world forgets about that turkey in its belly and is suddenly possessed with Black Friday deals, every home in Hollow Brook is festooned with lights and blowups of snowmen and Santa. And just seeing the Christmas trees strapped to the roof of every other car as they scurry down the streets makes me happy. Usually. But Thanksgiving isn’t for a few days yet. In fact, that’s the very reason Knox and I are headed to meet up with our father for dinner tonight. He wanted to catch us before he takes off to New York on business.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t the way to the Black Bear.” I scowl at my brother for bamboozling me into some impromptu road trip. I should have known he was up to no good when he insisted on picking me up instead of letting me hoof it to the bar. Cutler Tower is so close I could spit on the Black Bear’s rooftop from my balcony. And ironically, I used to love road trips with my brother. I used to appreciate his spontaneity, and now I hate it like I hate everything else.

“Don’t worry about the Black Bear.” He winces at the windshield as we take a hairpin turn. “We’ll be there in plenty of time to meet Dad. Dinner’s not until six.”

“Then why am I trapped in a vehicle with my racecar driver of a brother at four fifty?”

“Because we need to be somewhere at five.” He shoots me a dirty look. “You talk too much, you know that?”

“You used to love it when I talked. Are you this rude to your girlfriend, too? Because I’m shocked you’re not single by now. And I know what you’re thinking—that’s why I am.”

“Okay, so I was thinking of it.” He chuckles at the thought. “But not literally, only because it would have been funny. Guys like you, Trix. I get it.” He shakes his head at the road as if it were a disparaging thought. “I want to cheer you up. I think you’re going to like what you see tonight.” He grimaces because deep down he knows I won’t. We haven’t brought up the infamous incident—the visual of which I’m sure my brother wishes he could bleach out of his brain, but Knox made it clear that he didn’t want to see me near Rush again. I wasn’t going to fight him on it. Sadly, I want the same thing for myself—which is impossible to achieve because he’s everywhere.

“You’d better pray you’re right because you’re the only person in the world I have a free pass to beat up whenever I want.”

“Don’t I know it.”

We pull into the lot of the West Bend Community Center, and I squint out at the place trying to get a clue as to what we’re in for. The mouth of the building is open, and I spot a stage with people seated in front of it. The lot is full, and a few stragglers are left running through the door as if they’re afraid to miss the big event.

“If this is some free concert for some totally cool band, then I’m going to thank you for this. But if it’s pretty much anything else, expect that beating I’ve been meaning to give you.”

“Duly noted.” His lip tugs to the side the way it does before he’s about to have a good cry, and all of my warning bells go off. “Before we go in, I thought we should maybe shoot the elephant in the room.” He kills the engine, and his eyes slit my way. “You okay?” Knox has asked me that every day since he found me on my knees. He even came over the next morning and brought me coffee and a donut. He tried to convince me to stay at his place, but I won’t go near it. Knox just wanted to be close to me while I nursed a broken heart. But I didn’t want his pity. I wanted to feel every ounce of horrific pain. After all, I earned it by acting like an idiot.

“As okay as I’ll ever be.” It’s true. It hurts so much I don’t think it could ever get better. I’m broken, damaged, shattered into far too many pieces to be put back together appropriately.

“I’m sorry you fell for him. I should have been there for you. I should have seen the signs.” He pinches his eyes closed a moment. “It was my worst nightmare, and I’ll never forgive myself for letting this happen.”

All of those beautiful days I once cherished with Rush come back to me. “I’ll never forgive myself for letting it happen either.”

We get out, and he takes my hand as if I were three. Secretly, I love when he does this. I still need a hug from him daily just to survive in this world. And after what happened with Rush, Knox has done just that—made sure to give me that much-needed hug, sometimes three times a day.

“You know I should probably drop out of school,” I announce from thin air. That’s the thing with Knox. He knows not to take my words at face value. A lesson I wish I could have employed with Rush. That horrific pain comes back to me, and I push all thoughts of that unholy Knight out of my head. I can’t seem to push him out of my heart. That seems to be the problem. I glance down at my phone. Out of the blue, Rush began texting me as of yesterday. He’s called and texted a thousand times, but I’ve ignored them all. I ditched the club meeting last night in fear he’d pin me down with some hokey apology. I’m the one who needs to apologize to myself for being so stupid as to fall for his bedroom shenanigans. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Maybe he’s engaged to Miranda now and wanted to share the good news with me. I would believe anything at this point.

“Quit school and do what? Live in a van down by the river?”

“Are you kidding? I’m shacking up with you for the rest of my life. I hope Harper wants kids. I’m volunteering for the position. Can I have my own room, Dad?”

Knox growls at me just as I spot the sign, and my heels dig into the black top.

“No way.” My body ignites like a flare, and suddenly I want to be anywhere but in this parking lot. “How dare you bring me here.” My breathing grows erratic, and the earth spins below my feet a moment.

Knox wraps an arm around my waist and steadies me. “You’re okay. You’re going to sit in the back with me.” He moves us toward the peachy glow emanating from inside, and I want to scream, claw my brother’s eyes out for trapping me like some kitten at the bottom of a well. “Don’t worry, Trix. She won’t know we’re here.”

The giant sign reads, Welcome to the Excised Parent, where you are always welcome and surrounded by love.

“I hate you so much for this.” I stumble to keep up with him, and every move my body makes feels like a betrayal.

“You don’t hate me, Trix,” he whispers as we slip in through the back and duck over to a table in the back blocking the view from the stage in part by way of a set of bleachers. “You don’t have it in you to hate anybody.” Knox looks up at me a moment, and I wonder if he meant my mother or Rush—both of them maybe.

We sit down, and I scan the darkened room with its round tables, each brimming with men in suits, women in expensive looking coats and silk scarves. They all look so normal, like people you’d meet at the bank or an upscale restaurant. For sure they don’t look like broken families, disenfranchised men and women with malicious spouses who drove them out of their children’s lives and into a place like this. And then I see her—my mother showboating near the front, talking to an all too familiar looking couple, Scarlett and Rex.

My blood boils at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while those hives she sponsors don’t bother showing up. My body is too busy funneling all the rage into the fact I had to be here at all to witness the spectacle.

A short man with a round face and pleasant smile steps up to the microphone and introduces tonight’s guest speaker, Mrs. Lynette Kent.

The room erupts in cheers, and my mother flashes that million-dollar smile as if this notoriety were her destiny all along.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Once again, it’s an honor to be speaking with you. I see several familiar faces in the crowd—my son, Rex, and his girlfriend, Scarlett, who also happens to be my stepdaughter, are here tonight.” She gives a nervous chuckle, and the crowd follows suit.

There you go, Mother. Lift up the skirt of our family tree and expose all the dirty bits to them. You really have no shame, do you?

“But for those of you who don’t know my story, I want to share a little. When my first husband and I were investigated for fraud—it was me who ended up with a prison sentence. I spent nine months of hell doing time for something that I had so little knowledge about it was laughable they locked me up to begin with. I won’t lie. It made me bitter. It made me angry and resentful toward the very person I blamed for putting me there to begin with—my ex.”

Her words spear me right through the heart. I had always heard my father tell it to me just the way she said it. And yet, I just thought he was going easy on her. I always believed there were nefarious details being left out to protect me. I always believed that she was just as much to blame as he was in my eyes—as well as the laws. And now I wonder.

“While I was away, I had to bear the pain of separation from my oldest son, Rex, and my younger twins, Knox and Beatrix. I thought maybe the boys could tough it out a little better than my daughter would. A girl needs her mother.” Her voice dwindles to nothing. “As the weeks went by, the visitations involving my younger two children quickly ended. My ex stated that it gave them nightmares. They were afraid they, too, would be locked up and put away. No phone calls, no letters, just many silent months. Thank God I had Rex.” She offers him a forlorn smile.

I look to Knox. I don’t remember any nightmares. I specifically remember my father hating the drive, hating what he was putting us through, but deep down, I craved to see my mother. She was the oxygen I needed to breathe, and I was smothering without her.

“Eventually, my younger two grew bitter, resentful, emulating the very feelings I held toward my ex, only they held them toward me. On the day of my release, my ex picked me up. We had already discussed a legal separation before I went into prison. We were rocky from the start, but we held things together for the kids. And before I knew it, rumors were swirling that I alone had pulled the pin on our family unit. To hear him tell it, I stood back just to watch it blow.” She pauses to blot her eyes with a wad of tissues. “But that was the past. I’ve remarried. Have a surprisingly amicable relationship with my ex. My son, Rex, still remains by my side as staunch and strong as ever. I’ve even managed to repair a relationship with my son, Knox. But my daughter.” She twists her head to the side as if it took everything in her to carry on. “Things are nowhere near where I’d like them to be. I try. I’ve kept all modes of communication open with her. I even committed the cardinal sin and told her the truth about what happened. If I could take back anything, it would be that. I should have eased her into it. But I was desperate. And, of course, she didn’t believe me. Sometimes I lose all hope of ever restoring what I’ve lost with her.” She wipes the tears from her face. “But I press on, like all of you. I have to. I’ll press on to my dying breath. If I could tell her one thing tonight, it would be that I love her. That I never meant to hurt her. There’s not a thing on this Earth I wouldn’t give up not to have that loving mother-daughter relationship that we were robbed of.”

I jump from my seat and bolt for the exit. Knox catches up with me outside and unlocks his truck as we both pile in.

“That’s all I wanted you to hear, Trix.” He fires up the engine, and we peel out of the parking lot. “We needed to leave anyway. It’s time for dinner with Dad.”

---

The Black Bear sits cold and stale on this strange night where the full-bellied clouds wait patiently to dump their fury over Hollow Brook. I feel numb after attending that ridiculous meeting. I feel strangely warmed by it, too. But the Black Bear, something so ubiquitous in my life on any given day, looks foreign to me tonight. The entire planet feels foreign, like the way things get when you have a death in the family or your boyfriend whom you thought loves you doesn’t, and the mother you thought abandoned you perhaps didn’t.

We head inside, and the scents of beer and French fries assault my senses. The house band has a country song crooning from the speakers, and the hands of dozens of coeds reach out to touch the lead singer as if he were an original Beatle. The place is surprisingly pumping tonight as the sorority girls gather en mass to have one last blowout before we all go our separate ways before the holiday. I spot Miranda Smirnoff losing her shit to the music with the rest of them. Her hair is perfectly coifed, and her dress, despite the fact it’s two sizes too small, seems to be on point. There’s a luxury handbag strapped across her chest so big, so yellow, it can double as a kayak. Should the bar flood with beer she could easily save a menagerie of her sorority sisters.

“Future Pole Dancers of America unite,” I mutter.

“Easy, girl.” Knox tousles my hair as if I were his favorite puppy. He nods over to the back. “There’s Dad. Now be nice. I know this is a shock to hear, but both of our parents love us.”

“You know what’s really a shock to hear? The fact I haven’t knocked you into tomorrow for dragging me around like a ragdoll tonight. You do realize there will be hell to pay.”

Knox swivels around and lands an arm over my shoulder, his eyes pinned directly to mine. “Grow up, Trix. Let the words your mother said tonight sink in. She loves you. This was a shit ride. She never abandoned us the way we thought. I know you love Dad. I do, too, but sometimes people do things they’re not proud of and pitting their children against their mother is something I’m betting he regrets.”

My eyes spring wide at the accusation. My father is a saint. My heart breaks as we make our way to him because I’m terrified I’m about to find out Knox is right. Knox is always right, but that annoying as hell track record can’t go on forever.

Dad stands at the sight of us, and we engage in a hearty three-way embrace. We keep busy with small talk as Serena takes our order. The three of us each indulge in a single serving turkey pot pie in honor of the special day we’re going to miss as a family.

Dad looks up with a smile. We have his eyes, his lips. When we were little, it was my mother who told me I was a daddy’s girl through and through. I always did believe what she told me. Did being the operative word.

He grins over at us. “You two spending the big day up at the cabin with your mother?” For the first time in so long I don’t see the hurt in his eyes when he references her. My mother was a source of agonizing pain to my father for so long—he wanted her back in the worst way—but tonight he looks and sounds very much past that heart-wrenching level of wanting. “I talked to Bradley this morning, and he says Lake Avalanche already had six inches of powder. Be careful on the drive up. You got chains?” He nods to my brother.

“You talked to Bradley?” I hold up a hand, backtracking us right to the beginning of this conversation. “I thought you hated Bradley.”

Dad winces as if I just let an entire string of expletives fly. “I don’t hate the guy. He’s married to your mother now whether I like it or not. I may have strongly disliked him to begin with, but we get along great now. He’s helping get my contact list going again.” Dad lost Toberman Global at the same time he lost his wife. One apparently brought on the other. But he’s starting a new endeavor now, same concept, different name. And it’s been like starting from scratch for him.

“Dad”—Knox takes a breath as he looks to me—“there’s something I think we need to discuss. Mom’s been attending these meetings.” He pauses to curtail his words. “They’re called—”

“The Excised Parent.” He nods knowingly. Any trace of a smile melts right off his face. “Yes.” He looks directly at me. “I know all about it.”

Knox and I sit stunned just waiting for him to say something, anything.

“Is it true?” I pull my water forward just to feel the icy condensation numbing my fingertips. It’s suddenly far too hot in here with far too many people.

Dad looks to the exit as if he wishes he could hit it. “I don’t know what’s true and not true.” He bows his head a moment and takes a deep breath. “But yes, when she said she was leaving, I panicked. I couldn’t control Rex, so I thought I’d do my best to ensure I wouldn’t lose all three of you once she got out. I wanted us to last,” he pleads with tears in his eyes as he looks my way. “God, I wanted nothing more than that, but we were like oil and water. And then after the screw up that led to her incarceration—I knew my days were numbered. And she was angry.” He shakes his head, staring at the table as if talking to himself. “She threatened family court, restraining orders, the whole nine yards. I was running scared. And sadly enough, I vented—to you.” He looks from Knox to me. “Look, I never claimed to be perfect. And in no way was I trying to isolate you from your mother—not really. What I did want was to get my side of things out there so that when the time came for you to choose where you wanted to live, you might choose me.”

A single tear sears its way down my cheek. “Why didn’t we visit?”

He grows quiet, looking past my shoulder as if the answer were swimming around the Black Bear. “We did at first. Until I started butting heads and the guards asked me to wait outside. I wasn’t having it. Rex offered to take the two of you, but by then your loyalty to me won out.”

“I was afraid,” I offer, unsure of what’s true and not anymore. “And I grew to hate her for you.” That was the truth, and right now I hate it.

The three of us sit together in a strangled silence, despite the fact the band rages on, the coeds keep screaming as if the roof were on fire.

I pull my phone out like the autonomic response it is and check my social media sites on a loop. When I get to Briggs’ official page, I freeze.

“Oh my God,” I whisper so low no one at the table seems to notice. But I sure as hell notice something. The words I, Rush Knight, am madly in love with Trixie Toberman are written across the official school banner. My chest bucks as a breath hitches in my throat. Is this real? My God, does Rush love me? Then, just as quick as the elation sets in, the wind gets knocked right back out of me. Things like this don’t usually pan out for me. But who would do this? And why? Wait, doesn’t Rush have the final say in who posts what? My entire body flares with heat. As much as I want to believe it, I’m afraid the only logical explanation is that the school was hacked. Probably a cruel joke by Miranda herself. I bury my phone back into my purse, take in a breath, and steel my resolve. I won’t let this get to me. I can’t. At least not at the table with my brother and my father.

The bill comes, and my father antes up. The three of us stand and engage in one long, wordless embrace.

We exchange our I’m sorrys, our I love yous as easy as spilling water, and then we wish him a happy Thanksgiving and watch as he heads out into the chilly night.

Knox gives my shoe a light kick. “Harper’s waiting for me back at the house. Let me walk you home.” I look past him at the bar, and my eyes round out, my stomach bisects with heat just like the first time I laid eyes on Rushford Knight. He nods over to me with his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans, that silly lopsided grin gliding up one side of his face. All I can think of is the image of what I just saw. Impossible. He’s probably just gloating at the ridiculousness of it all.

“If I leave now, he’ll think I’m running,” I say mostly to myself. “Maybe it’s time I have another important conversation.” One that involves a slow death by way of a butter knife.

Knox follows my gaze and takes in a quick breath, his chest expanding like a gorilla with his back on fire. “On second thought, I think I’ll stick around. Grant and Eli are in the poolroom. I’ll be here in case you need backup.” He glares at Rush as he treks on past him.

It takes all of my strength to take a step forward, and before I know it, we’re meeting in the middle, his cologne already wrapping its warm spiced arms around me.

Just as I’m about to abandon any good sense I might have and toss my arms around him, another pair of slender arms beat me to the punch.

“Hey!” Miranda blinks over at me as if it were just a casual hello, resting her head on his chest as if it belongs there. She’s dressed in her typical tart attire, giving off those naughty cast-off-from-Catholic-school vibes. Knew it. She set me up. That whole Rush loves me thing was just for kicks.

Every cell in my body hits its boiling point, and I’d like nothing more than to claw her eyes out and stuff them down her throat.

“Hay is for horses,” I bark. “Now, go out back and get lost in the first pasture you see.” It comes out like the threat it is—lame threat, but I was just warming up.

She blinks back. “My God, you’re so immature.” She hikes up on her tiptoes and lands a kiss to his cheek, but Rush’s sober eyes are still pinned on me.

“I’m not interested,” he says while looking right at me. Carefully, he peels her arms off his body. “In you, Miranda. I’m sorry. My heart, every last part of me, belongs to this girl right here.”

“What?” she squawks so loud the bar falls silent for a microsecond. “Trixie Toberman? Please—she’s a little girl at best. She’s someone you drop off at the mall with friends, not someone you wine and dine”—she runs her finger over his lips—“and take home to meet the bed sheets.”

“I’m a little girl?” I practically gag on the words. “I’m not the one wearing knee socks with a schoolgirl’s uniform as if I belonged in a Britney video.”

“Nice,” she snips. “Take a pot shot at my clothes. That’s real mature. You always did exemplify the lowest common denominator of existence even way back when. All the kids were afraid of you. They all thought you would steal from them because that’s what your family did. They stole from people to make a living!”

My mouth falls open, stunned. Honestly, I didn’t think Miranda even realized we went to the same high school. And now I find out the truth—my reputation precedes me.

“Trashing my family?” I give an incredulous huff at her audacity. “My God, now that was immature. Even Bart Simpson agrees with me on that one.”

“You’re offensive,” she barks.

“Oh, cry me a river. The world is full of infants like you just waiting to be offended.”

She holds up a hand. “Okay, fine.” She smarts up at Rush with attitude. “If this is what you want for the night, then I won’t put up a fight.” She blows him a dry kiss. “Find me when you need a real woman.”

“I hear there’s a special on crabs tonight!” I shout after her. “You know, like those things you have living between your legs!”

Rush rumbles out a dark laugh deep within his chest, and I miss the sound. More than that, I miss the way it felt to have my body against his while he did it.

“She’s allergic to shellfish.”

“Please.” I scoff. “I have no sympathy. I hope she dies in the street.”

Rush picks up my hand and reels me into him. “That’s what I like about you—you don’t mix words.”

I blink up at him as I struggle to keep my breathing even-keeled. “You have something you want to say to me?”

“Yes.” Rush drops that grin and trades it in for a look of longing. “You up for taking a little walk?”

---

The night air just before a storm is filled with the earthy scent of ozone. It’s something my father taught us as children, and Knox and I would go out just to inhale the heady scent by the vat.

Rush holds my hand as we walk across the street toward campus and end up just shy of Hallowed Grounds by the maples already bald for winter.

He blows out a hard breath. “I had a long talk with Nolan the other day.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Sunday, but I choose to ignore it.

“Go on.”

He bites down on his lip as if he had a delicious secret he couldn’t wait to unleash. “I discovered something about myself. That instead of dying along with my mom—on the inside, of course—I should probably be living for the both of us.”

“So does that mean you’re doubling down on the girls you bed?” I shrug at my weak attempt at levity.

“No.” He closes his eyes a moment. “It means I’m living the way she would want me to—the way I want to. I’m not afraid anymore.” He swallows hard, and the muscles in his jaw flex. Rush is gearing up to say something that he’s probably never said before, and I’m all ears to hear it. “I’m in love with you, Trix.” Tears gloss his eyes as he shakes his head, and my entire body swells with relief. “I’m so fucking in love it hurts like hell not to have you. I miss you.” He pulls me in. “I miss us. I miss the taste of your mouth, the feel of my body in yours”—his eyes linger hard over mine—“but mostly, I just miss this.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “Being near the only girl who ever stole my heart.” His chin vibrates as if he’s struggling to hold it together, and that familiar heat spears my stomach once again. Rush Knight feels this level of emotion for me? Is this real? “There has never been another like you, and there won’t be another after you.”

“Who says I’m leaving?” I can hardly believe the words as they escape my lips. I had solemnly vowed to myself that should Rush Knight cross paths with me, I’d kick his balls in with a smile. No remorse. No sappy make up to our horrible breakup.

“Are you still up for something with me?” His chest pumps in and out with his every breath, and I’m right there with him.

“Hell yes. Are you up for something with me? I’m not talking about a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am session in the bathroom of Kappa Kappa Gamma or the Black Bear. I’m talking long-term. My bed or yours—okay, so my bed is out of the question because my RA is a total bitch, but that’s beside the point. I want everything with you.” Those last words come out with tears, with a voice no bigger than that of a mouse, and Rush scoops me up in his arms and spins me.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He peppers my face with kisses. “I’m never letting you go. I’m not letting you down either.”

My phone keeps buzzing to the extent it’s starting to worry me, and I hate that it’s pulling me out of the moment—this very moment I’ve secretly begged the universe to give me.

“God, who is this?” I pluck the phone out to see about a dozen messages burping up at once and more pinging every other second. “What’s happening? They all say something to the effect of did you see it?” Then it hits me. I look up at Rush, my eyes set wide. “Did you do that?”

He bumps a kiss to my lips. “Did you check out the WB home page?”

“I may have,” I say it slow as I look at him from under my lashes. I take us to the school’s homepage, and instead of the traditional orange and blue WB Mustang banner with a picture of a—you guessed it—a mustang—the words I, Rush Knight, am madly in love with Trixie Toberman. A single pink rose slices through the X in my name. I get a good look at it this time with new eyes and really let it sink in.

“I thought maybe it was a joke.” My words come out garbled. “What in the world have you done?” A laugh bubbles up my throat as I smack him. “Oh my God, the entire world is going to know! This is insane!” I tip my head back and fill the entire campus with my laughter. “You really love me?”

“Yes, I really do. I love you, Trixie, and it’s never going to get old saying those words.”

And then, just as easy as they came, the smile, the laughter both leave me. “Rush, my heart was cracked in two long before you ever came along. I’m damaged. I’m scarred.”

“You’re not damaged. I promise you that. We’ve both had a rough time, but it’s nothing we can’t overcome together. Those cracks—the damage life inflicted on you through hard ass lessons—you earned those scars. But you’re done looking at the past. We both are. They say the rearview mirror is small for a reason, Trix. It’s time to look forward—straight ahead with me.”

I give a weak nod. “With you.” Rush and I lock eyes, and I can feel the intensity of his love for me—here we are communicating without words. I guess my mother was right. It happens when you’re in love. My fingers bump over his lips just before I pull him down to me, his mouth over mine just the way it should be. Rush and I have found our way to each other, back where we belong, falling in one another’s world by way of our mouths, the way it should be. The way it was since the very beginning.

The snow begins to fall, pricking us with a series of soft, wet kisses of its own, and we pull back, holding our hands to the air, tongues out like a couple of little kids.

Rush slings me over his shoulder, my face swinging down by the back of his jeans as he takes off in the opposite direction of Cutler Tower.

“Where are you taking me?” I shriek, laughing while putting in a weak attempt to pound my fists over his back.

“To my place,” he shouts, picking up his pace. “I think we should offer this next phase of our relationship a proper introduction.”

My laughter reaches to the sky as we bob up and down while racing down the street.

“If my brother finds me there, he’s going to kill you!”

“That’s okay. You’re worth dying for.”

“Aw!” I melt over him like a wet napkin. “I do love you, Rushford Knight.”

He takes a healthy bite out of my thigh. “And I do love you, Beatrix Toberman.”

The best part is that I can tell deep down in my bones that he means it.

Rush loves me.

It’s too good to believe, but it’s true.