“I’m sorry to say you’re on the fast track for that, considering the lowlifes you’re keeping with—”
“Lowlifes? I always wondered what you’d say if you knew your precious Stephen tried to sexually assault me at Deanne’s graduation party. You want to talk about lowlifes?”
“Oh, Candace, please.”
“He did, Aunt Syl.” Michelle’s voice was quiet, but firm. “We had to pull him off her. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t, and none of the guys would stand up for her and make him go. I brought her straight home, but she didn’t want to tell you what happened.”
Her mother’s demeanor cracked, just a little. Not enough to give her any hope of a change. Then Jameson spoke up. “Aw, hell, he’d had too much to drink. We all had. Stop blowing it out of proportion, Candace. You were only in a roomful of people.”
Michelle looked as if she were grinding her teeth into dust.
“That’s something else,” her mother said, fired up all over again. “I know you still run around with that Sanders girl, with the alcoholic mother—”
“Don’t bring Sam into this! She has nothing whatsoever to do with it.”
Sylvia swept on, unheeded. “And this new development…” She glanced at Michelle. “I’m just stunned.”
Michelle planted both hands on her hips, her voice suddenly blasting through the continuing argument and commanding attention without her having to make a single move. “Hey! Stop it right now, and someone tell me what’s going on. Aunt Syl, you made that comment at the table, and ever since this conversation started, everyone has been throwing me these weird, secretive looks and I can’t take it anymore. What is going on?”
Candace turned to face her dear cousin, the words piling up in her throat until she almost choked on them. She had to spit them out before they strangled her. “Michelle, it’s Brian.” She drew a sobbing breath as Michelle only looked confused. “Brian is the person I was seeing, for all of two nights. He’s one of the ‘lowlifes’ my mother is talking about. I’m sorry, and I love you, but I love him too. I have ever since you introduced us. All I can tell you is that nothing ever happened between us while you two were together, and I’ll swear that on anything you want to put in front of me. This has all only happened in the last couple of weeks.” She threw a glance at her parents. “When I went to him to get a tattoo.”
Sylvia stepped back, and Phillip grabbed her as if he expected her to pass out. She even fluttered a hand up to her throat. “You did what?”
Candace felt her lips curl with a little more wicked glee than she should probably be displaying at the moment. “I would show it to you right now, Mother, but it might violate a few public decency laws.”
Michelle ran one hand through her hair, holding it back off her forehead for a moment. It was her signature gesture of distress. Candace immediately regretted her careless words for her cousin’s sake, but she enjoyed the stricken horror both her parents were wearing. Someone could have just told them she’d died. No…actually, they probably wouldn’t have been as upset over her demise.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly to Michelle. “I…” Fumbling, she gave up. “Please don’t hate me.”
Jameson scoffed, shaking his head. “You girls must really enjoy scraping the bottom of the barrel, messing around with that one.”
“James,” Michelle snapped as Candace’s mouth fell open.
“You have the audacity to say that about him while you defend the scum sitting in there?”
“Don’t forget I went to school with that no-good punk. When he wasn’t living half his life in detention, that is, or his parents weren’t shipping him off somewhere. Bad enough he was with you, Michelle, but I’ll be damned if he’s going to get his hands on my baby sister. I’ll beat his ass into next week.”
Candace tried to keep her cool, though she saw red, especially when she noticed the all-too-pleased smile on her mother’s face. “Oh, please, Jameson, he’d wrap you into a pretzel.”
Michelle smirked her agreement as the door swung open. Deanne flew out, her eyes nightmarish, seeking and finding Candace with unnerving precision. The sweet Southern belle act was long gone, and in its place was the true bridezilla Candace knew she could be. Deanne plowed between Candace’s parents to face her front and center. “I’ve just now stemmed the freaking riot in there, Candace. What in the hell are you trying to prove, pulling that stunt at my rehearsal dinner? Are you trying to ruin this for me?”
“Hey.” Michelle, ever the referee, grabbed her arm. “Lay off her. Candace, go home. I’m not mad at you, honey, but it’s best if you leave.”
More tears spilled, dripping on her blouse, as the five of them stood there looking at her. Michelle’s gaze was the only one that wasn’t openly hostile. But her mouth was set in a grim line, and there was a troubled wrinkle between her brows. God, of them all, she couldn’t have Michelle hate her. She couldn’t.
Deanne crossed her arms and eased her defensive stance a bit. “Whatever. I don’t know what’s wrong, and I don’t care. But if one more thing goes foul in this wedding, I’m going to shoot first and pull my freaking hair out by the roots later. Candace, do you think you can manage to be at the church by two tomorrow? That’s two p.m., honey. Just so we’re clear.”
“Deanne,” Michelle said with a warning tone.
Candace didn’t wait to hear more. The hurt was settling deep into a dark, scary part of her soul she didn’t dare examine too often. A part of her that wanted to wreak all the havoc she possibly could to the ones who had hurt her. She turned and walked toward her car, taking slow, deliberate steps so as not to break into a sprint. Good thing she’d left her purse in the car. There was no way in hell she was stepping foot back in that house again.
Her parents obviously had nothing else to say to her. She wondered if she was finally officially disowned. It had always seemed so inevitable, it was almost a relief to get it over with. Popping open her car door, she turned her sore, half-blind eyes toward the brightly lit house and saw that Michelle had soundlessly followed her. Pausing half in and half out of her car, Candace just looked at her.
“Well, he’s certainly taught you to cuss. Did you sleep with him?” Michelle asked. Somehow she’d known that was the question that was coming, now that they had a moment away from everyone else. There was no malice in her tone whatsoever, and her expression showed nothing more than concern. But there was a flatness in her voice that broke Candace down even more. “Tell me the truth. I won’t be mad. I’m worried about you.”
She couldn’t have lied to Michelle at that moment even if the answer had been yes. “He…stayed with me one night, but it didn’t go that far.”
Michelle’s eyebrows rose. “Really. Well, if that’s true, I’m impressed. Candace…” Sighing, Michelle pushed her hair back again, her other hand on her hip. “Listen, sweetie, I realize your experience with men is limited. And that’s your business. Just keep in mind, please, that they come and go, especially that one. That’ll be the case for probably the next few years of your life, as you get out there more. They might not be there from one day to the next, but your family will. I’d hate to see you drive us all away only to find yourself alone on all sides one day. Don’t destroy something permanent for something fleeting.”