Home > Books > The Atonement (The Arrangement, #3)(3)

The Atonement (The Arrangement, #3)(3)

Author:Kiersten Modglin

“No,” I said firmly. “Nothing is wrong with your grandmother.”

“Then why are we here?” Maisy asked. “Why did we have to end our vacation? Who texted you when we were on the beach?” Her expression was pinched. Serious. Concerned. She would make quite the little lawyer someday, if she wanted to.

“I’ve told you, it was a work thing. Which is why we’re here. I need to run into work this morning, and I need you three to stay with your grandmother.”

“Why are you being weird?” Dylan asked plainly.

“Huh?” Riley was awake now too, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Look,” I said with a long inhale. “I know this is all…really odd. But I need you guys to trust me, okay? Everything’s fine. We’re all fine. You’re going to be fine. I just need to run into work and deal with a few things, and then we’ll go.”

“Go where? Go home?” Maisy asked.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Probably,” I corrected myself. “Now, come on, you all must be starving and ready for showers. Let’s get inside and get cleaned up, okay?” Without waiting for their answers, I pushed my door open and stepped out of the car, moving around to the trunk to retrieve our luggage.

Once we each had our bags, we trudged up the long concrete walkway toward the shadow-filled porch and its black front door. The air was chilly, causing goose bumps to line my arms, and I wished the sky was brighter. I couldn’t help worrying about who might be watching us.

I saw Peter everywhere—in the shapes of the trees across the lawn, behind the columns as we neared them. I couldn’t tell my children this, though, so instead, I moved forward without a shred of hesitation. They needed to believe every lie I was selling them.

Every lie I was trying desperately to sell myself.

When we’d reached the door, I pressed a finger into the doorbell. It was just after six in the morning, which meant my mother should be awake, though probably not expecting company. I should’ve called, I supposed, but that would give her the chance to turn us away, and I couldn’t risk that.

After a few moments’ pause, I pressed a finger into the doorbell again and gave the kids an encouraging nod.

“Happy faces,” I reminded them. “It’s early. Let’s all be friendly, okay?”

Several awkward minutes passed, giving me just enough time to begin second-guessing my decision, before the door swung open and my mother stood in front of us. Her graying-brown hair was pulled back in a soft headband that matched the white robe she’d tied around herself. She looked left, then right, as if she couldn’t see us, then eyed me.

“Ainsley? What in the world are you doing here?” She studied the children. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” I assured her. “We came for a visit.”

“A visit?” She said it as if I’d suggested we’d come for the royal ball.

My forced smile burned my lips. I lifted the suitcase in my hand. “Can we come in?”

Seemingly taken aback, my mother blinked out of a trance, then stepped aside. “Of-of course you may.” I ignored the snide correction. “You’ve just caught me off guard… I just saw you all at Dylan’s birthday dinner. I thought that would be all I’d see of you until Christmas. Thanksgiving, at least.”

“Well, here we are.”

We shuffled inside, dropping our bags on the floor of the foyer.

“Hey, Grandma,” Maisy mumbled, unenthusiastically.

“Hello, dear. What on earth are you all wearing?” Mom asked, once she’d gotten a better look at us.

“We just came from Florida,” I told her. “We were on vacation.”

“And you couldn’t stop to shower? Jesus, Ainsley, you look like farm animals.” She glanced at our feet.

I patted Dylan on the shoulder. “Why don’t you kids take the bags upstairs and put them in my old room? Then you can take your showers, brush your teeth, and freshen up a bit while I cook us breakfast. Do you remember where it is?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his bag. “Dibs on the first shower.”

“No fair! I was going to call it,” Riley argued, grabbing his own bag and rushing to beat his brother up the stairs.

“Boys!” I chided.

I waited until all three children had disappeared up the stairs and around the corner before addressing my mom. “I’m sorry we’ve just shown up here. It’s a long story, but—”

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