“Doing it now, Mamá!“Toby turned and ran back inside.
With one more icy, assessing look at Sadie, Luna followed her son.
Bo caught the screen door before it could slam shut. “Sorry. Luna is, well, you know Luna, but I probably should have warned you about Toby.” He held the door open for her.
“What? No. He’s fine. You’re an uncle. That’s great!” Sadie walked past him, clamping her mouth shut before she continued babbling.
“Abuela!” Toby’s voice reverberated through the walls. “Uncle Bo brought a friend over for dinner. A girl friend!” the little boy added in a high-pitched singsong voice.
Bo raised his eyes heavenward, and Sadie giggled.
A second later, a blond head appeared around the corner followed by a pudgy little hand waving them forward. “Hurry up, Uncle Bo,” Toby whisper-yelled in that way only children seem to have mastered.
“It appears we’ve been summoned,” Sadie observed.
“It does appear that way,” Bo agreed. “Shall we?” He offered her his arm and led her into the dining room.
“My goodness. Is that little Sadie?” Bo’s mother hopped up from her chair and hurried around the table to hug Sadie. “Just look at you.” Mrs. Ibarra held her at arm’s length, eyeing her warmly up and down. “It’s lovely to see you again, absolutely lovely.”
“Thank you,” Sadie said. “It’s nice to see you too.”
“Here, sit next to me.” Bo’s mother patted a chair before turning to glower at her son. “Bonifacio. Shame on you for not telling me you were inviting a guest for dinner!”
“I’m sorry, Mom. It was kind of a last-minute thing.”
“I hope it’s not too much trouble…” Sadie began.
Bo’s mother waved her hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine. We have plenty.” She sat and pulled Sadie down next to her, patting her hand. “And really, it’s so nice to see you, dear. How is your grandmother? Is she well?” Another glower at Bo. “You should have invited her too, mijo.”
Bo froze in the act of sitting down, eyes blinking in mute panic like a deer in headlights.
His mother waved her hand again. “Another time.”
Bo’s father cleared his throat.
Everyone quieted at once, turning their attention to the head of the table.
Bo had told Sadie about his father’s accident, but still, knowing what had happened to someone and facing it in real life were two different things. As a child, whenever she’d seen Bo’s dad, he’d been doing something active. Breaking in a colt, training a horse for hunting, harnessing a team … To see him in the wheelchair took Sadie back for a moment. But her skills as an actress served her well, and she managed to control the initial sense of shock. She composed her face, recalling what Bo had said. His father deserved better than her pity. And that was that.
Mr. Ibarra ordered grace, and everyone bowed their heads. Sadie followed suit. As Bo’s father blessed the meal, Sadie couldn’t help sneaking a glance across the table. Head bowed, eyes closed, Bo was behaving himself. Next to him, however, his nephew was not.
Toby caught Sadie’s eye, his lips pressed together, cheeks puffing out with suppressed mirth at their shared mischief. Sadie shook her head slightly but couldn’t stop a grin from forming as a gurgle of giddy nervous laughter bubbled up inside her too. Luckily, a moment later, Mr. Ibarra called amen, and Sadie could pass off the chortle as a sudden coughing fit.
Winking at Toby, Sadie joined in passing dishes around the table. Meat, mashed potatoes, a few kinds of vegetables. Sadie made sure to be polite and took a bit of everything offered to her. It was all so simple and homey and normal. Whether he knew it or not, this was the kind of thing that truly marked her world different from Bo’s.
Family dinners like this didn’t happen in Sadie’s world. Not often. As a kid, her parents would take her to social events sometimes, usually fancy parties with more courses than she could count on her fingers. Food she didn’t like, while sitting at a table where children were meant to be seen and not heard. Otherwise, dinner was whatever a maid or cook or nanny or tutor or whoever happened to be on duty that night heated up and left out for her. During the summer, she and her nana would share meals together, and Sadie enjoyed that time, but it wasn’t the same as a whole family gathered like this. Not really.
Bo had believed he couldn’t give her what she wanted. But what he didn’t know was how much she wanted this. Messy table manners and laughter and time spent together. As a family. He didn’t know because she’d never told him. She’d held that close. A secret too painful to share.
Sadie’s gaze strayed to Toby’s blond head again and a pang sliced through her. Don’t do this to yourself. She locked the what-ifs down, closed the lid, nailed it shut.
Poking at the food on her plate, Sadie concentrated on the sounds around her, the rumble of conversation, the scrape of silverware against dishes, the clock ticking on the mantle, and in the distance, the dogs baying in their kennel. In control once more, she turned to Bo’s mother. “I caught part of the fox hunt when I drove in earlier this week.”
“You did?” Mrs. Ibarra smiled warmly. “How did the pack look?”
“Excellent. They’d definitely caught the scent already.” She smiled, recalling Ryan’s reaction. “My costar couldn’t believe that kind of thing happened out here.”
“You know how rich people like their pointless fancy hobbies,” Luna observed, ever-frosty green eyes flicking over Sadie.
Sadie’s smile faded. What did Bo’s sister have against her? One of these days Sadie was going to say fuck it and just ask.
“I’ll admit, it’s a bit eccentric,” Bo’s mother cut in, tone abjectly civil, “but the hounds love it. And what harm is there? It’s not like they chase an actual fox.”
“They don’t?” Toby asked, lips pursing in his chubby cheeks, making him look like a confounded cherub. “What are they chasing, then?”
“Why don’t you ask your uncle?” Sadie suggested, glancing mischievously at Bo. “I bet he knows.”
“Tell me! Tell me!” Toby yanked on Bo’s shirt sleeve.
“Okay, okay. Easy there.” He patted Toby on the head and then whispered in his ear.
“Pee-pee!” Toby giggled. “Really?”
“Yep.” Bo nodded, mouth quirking in a grin so similar to his nephew’s, Sadie’s heart squelched. “You know,” Bo continued, “you’re almost old enough to start marking the trail yourself.”
“What?” Toby’s robin-egg eyes widened. “Can I, Mom?”
“Absolutely not.” Luna’s mouth was a grim line.
“Aw, come on, sis. I was about his age when I started.”
“You were also jumping off silos at his age,” Luna reminded him.
“This is different. He knows how to ride. It’s perfectly safe.”
“My son will not waste his time pandering to a bunch of bored snobs!”
Bo froze, glaring at his sister over Toby’s head.
The mantel clock ticked, punctuating the sudden silence.
Sadie stared at her plate. She could almost hear the unspoken battle waging between the siblings, imagine what was being said. This was her fault. She shouldn’t have come. It was clear Luna didn’t think she belonged here.
But did Bo?
Caught between his mother and uncle, head down, Toby let out a strangled sound.
“Mijo?” Luna dropped her gaze to her son. “Are you crying, baby?”
Toby shook his head and lifted his chin, revealing a face wreathed in smiles. Shoulders shaking with glee, he sputtered, “They’re chasing pee-pee!”
Biting her lip, Sadie tried to suppress the bubble of laughter rising to the surface, but the little boy’s chortles got the best of her.
Soon, everyone around the table was cackling, even Mr. Ibarra, who failed to maintain his stern face while declaring the dinner table was no place for toilet humor.
“Sadie, you must tell us about this movie you and my son are workin
g on together,” Bo’s mother suggested, deftly taking advantage of the moment.
Eager to help steer the conversation in a different direction, Sadie launched into a description of the filming they’d done here at the estate.
“That’s nice you were able to use your abuela’s stables,” Bo’s mother observed. “I’m sure the studio appreciated it.”
Sadie shrugged. But she could feel Bo’s eyes on her from across the table.
“You know,” Luna drawled, dipping her fork into her potatoes, “now that you mention it, I think I read something about that.”
“About what?” Sadie’s head snapped up.
“About the movie filming on your family’s estate.” Luna blithely swallowed a bite of food, the cat eating the canary.
“What are you talking about?” Bo demanded.
“It was online. One of those Chicago entertainment websites.”
“411 on 312?” Sadie couldn’t help asking.
“Maybe.” Luna paused, and Sadie had the distinct impression Bo’s sister was enjoying every second of this. “The usual story. Spoiled rich girl buys her way to the top. Never has to work for what she wants.” Luna pointedly dropped her gaze to the perfect half-moons of Sadie’s buffed and shining fingernails. “Never has to get her hands dirty.”
Stomach churning, Sadie was glad she hadn’t eaten too much of her dinner. The last thing she needed was Mrs. Ibarra’s meatloaf to make a reappearance.
No. The last thing she needed was to hear the exact thing she’d feared—the thing she’d warned Bo about—was happening. Sadie had told him this would happen, but he’d brushed her concerns aside, made her feel silly and vain for being worried. Damn it.
“Luna, would you mind clearing the dishes?”
Luna frowned at her mother but didn’t argue.
“I’ll help,” Sadie announced, springing from her chair.
“That’s not necessary,” Mrs. Ibarra said.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you to mess up your manicure,” Luna added sweetly.
“Please. I insist.” Ignoring Luna, she gathered up her plate and silverware. Bless your heart too, bitch.
“Well, that’s very kind of you.” Bo’s mother handed Sadie her plate, casting a wary eye on her daughter. “And I’m sure Luna appreciates it.”
“I’ll help too!” Toby piped up.
“No!” Both Luna and Mrs. Ibarra responded instantly.
“Why don’t you come say hi to Stella with me, sobrino,” Bo suggested. He lifted his gaze to Sadie, eyebrow raised in question.
She nodded, adding his plate to the others in her pile. She was fine. She needed to do this. While Bo hustled his nephew out to the stable, Sadie picked up her stack of plates and headed for the kitchen, preparing for battle.
Luna was standing at the sink, her long cascade of black hair reminding Sadie of Ana. With a start, Sadie realized she’d known Luna for almost as long as she’d known Ana. But unlike her best friend, this woman had never liked her. And Sadie decided it was about damn time she found out why.
Crossing the kitchen, Sadie set her stack of dirty dishes on the counter next to the sink.
“We don’t have a dishwasher,” Luna said, glancing up from the plate she was scrubbing.
“No problem.” Sadie ignored the eye daggers coming her way and reached for a towel. Taking one of the clean dishes drying on a rack, she began wiping it down.
Luna set the plate she’d finished washing in the rack and grabbed another. “I bet you have one, though,” she muttered, voice barely audible over the sound of rushing water. “I bet you have tons of fancy appliances—and a maid, and a cook, and a housekeeper.”
“I do,” Sadie admitted. “I mean, I don’t have all those things in my apartment, but I do have a dishwasher.” Sadie rubbed the towel in circles around the dish. “And yes, my family has people who prepare their meals and handle the clean-up.” She set the dish down. “Is that why you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Right,” Sadie scoffed. She was tired of the bullshit.
“Fine.” Luna shut off the faucet and turned to look at her, green eyes flashing. “I hate you.”
Sadie drew back as if slapped. Even though she’d been expecting it, the words still stung. “Why? Because I have money? Because I’m a ‘bored, spoiled snob’ who wastes your brother’s time?”
“You didn’t just waste my brother’s time, you stole it!” Luna exploded, a simmering volcano that had been waiting to erupt for years. Hot angry words spewed forth. “Every summer. Every summer you’d come here and the two of you would run off on your adventures, playing games and having fun and not once … not once did you invite me!”
“Why would I?” Sadie stared at her, too incredulous to feel guilty about the accusation. “You’ve hated me from the moment you first laid eyes on me!”
“That’s not true.”
“No?” Sadie still remembered her first encounter with Luna. “Then Bo has another sister who threw mud at me and told me to go away and never come back?”
“I was five years old! You can’t blame me for what I did when I was five.”
“Fine.” Sadie gripped the towel in her fingers, struggling to remain calm. “What about the time when you were nine and you locked me in the tack room? Or the time you stole my shoes and threw them in the creek? Now that I think about it, you pulled that particular nasty little stunt on me several summers in a row. Then there was the time you dumped paint on my new saddle. I think you were at least fourteen for that one.”
“I did it because I was jealous, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I was jealous of you, the beautiful fairy princess who lived in the castle on the hill with your pretty clothes and expensive toys. You had everything. And I had nothing.” Luna’s lip trembled, and for a moment, she looked like the sad, angry little girl Sadie remembered taunting her all those years ago.
“That’s not true, Luna. You had a mother and father who spent time with you. You had a brother who loves you.”
Luna shook her head, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “He loved you more. Every fall, when you’d get in one of your fancy cars to head back to your fancy house in the city, Bo would be miserable. He’d mope around for weeks, and nothing I ever did could cheer him up.” She swiped at her eyes.
“I didn’t know…”
“How could you?” Luna cried, tears running down her face now. “All I wanted was for someone to love me the way he loved you. To look at me the way he looked at you. That’s why I … I was so desperate to have what you two had, I…” Luna stopped, covering her mouth with her hands.
A chill ran down Sadie’s spine. “That’s why you what?”
But Luna only shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She wiped her face again, in control once more. “Like my dad says, some people are haves, and some are have-nots, and that’s just the way it is.” She straightened, staring down her nose at Sadie. “To answer your original question, yes, I think you’re spoiled. I think you’ve always gotten everything you’ve ever wanted, and you take it for granted.”
More than a slap to the face, Luna’s confession was a punch to the gut. “You talk about my fancy clothes and big houses with servants to do everything, and you’re right, that stuff is nice. But I’d give it all up if it meant I could have grown up having the kind of dinner like the one you had tonight.” Sadie’s voice shook. “You think I take my life for granted? Look around, Luna. You take your family for granted.” Sadie tossed the towel on the counter. “And you can’t buy that.”
Sadie banged out of the kitchen, pausing in the dining room to thank Bo’s parents for their hospitality, mortified but certain they’d heard every word of her argument with Luna. Then she let herself out, stomping across the moonlit gravel driveway to the stable, the cold October air cooling her heated skin.
The main stable door was already closed for the night. Sadie made her way around to the tack room entrance on the side of th
e building and slipped inside. Made to house teams of horses, the carriage stable was the biggest on the property, much bigger than the one closest to her grandma’s house. A row of antique lanterns outfitted with LED bulbs stretched overhead, pale circles of light reflecting on the stable floor, creating a gleaming path between the stalls, like stepping stones.
At the far end of the barn, near the very last stall, Sadie spotted Bo and his nephew, petting a lovely, old gray mare, their voices muffled by a symphony of small quiet sounds created by the rustling of more than a dozen horses settling in for the night. Rather than spook any of the animals by calling out to them, Sadie made her way toward the trio, her booted footfalls nearly silent.
Bo was scratching the mare between the ears, while Toby ran his hand up and down her silvery muzzle. Sadie watched as Bo leaned toward Toby, giving the boy his full attention as he listened to whatever his nephew was saying. Bo was a good uncle. He would probably make a good dad.
Sadie didn’t even flinch when the ache came this time.
She was getting used to it. Like permanent emotional heartburn.
Bo glanced up, catching her eye as she approached. “You’re alive.”
“Were you worried I wouldn’t be?” Sadie stood next to him, reaching up to run her fingers over the mare’s snowy forelock. “Hey there, Stella. How are you, old girl?”
“Do you know she and Uncle Bo have the same birthday?” Toby asked.
“Almost the same,” Bo amended.
“I think I did know that.” Sadie smiled, but it was bittersweet. The last time she’d seen Stella, the mare had been nearing the end of her prime, which meant now she was likely nearing the end of her life.
Another stab of pain. Sadie placed a hand over the aching spot in her chest, rubbing absently. All those years. All that time. Gone.
“Abeja?” Bo murmured, brow creased with concern. “You good?”
“Fine,” she lied, dropping her hand and forcing another, brighter smile. She nodded toward Stella. “This silver beauty was the horse you were riding when we first met, right?”
A soft smile touched Bo’s lips. “That’s right.” The burnished amber of his eyes glowed, his gaze gentle and warm, and Sadie knew he remembered that first encounter at the edge of the meadow as clearly as she did.
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