Free The Weekenders by Mary Kay Andrews Page B

yesterday,” Scott said. “Or maybe it was day before that. I lose track of time when I’m here working.”
    â€œBut he couldn’t be bothered to let me know that,” Billy said.
    â€œI needed two days alone to finalize the schematics for the restaurant in Boca Raton,” Scott countered. “You know what I’m like when I’m trying to finish a project.”
    â€œSay no more. He’s a bear. Or I should say, unbearable,” Billy told a giggling Maggy.
    Scott dipped a spoon into the tub of pimento cheese and tasted it thoughtfully. “You know, this would make a nice appetizer for the Southern-themed diner Stephen wants to do in Durham.”
    â€œMama usually serves it on Ritz crackers with some of Aunt Roo’s pepper jelly drizzled over it,” Riley said. She set her half-eaten sandwich down on the plate and pushed it away. And then drained the glass of piss-poor wine she’d poured herself.
    â€œRough day, huh?” Scott said, taking note of the wine.
    â€œEpic,” Riley said.
    â€œUncle Scott! Somebody changed the locks at our house,” Maggy said. “Daddy’s gonna be so mad when he finds out.”
    â€œNo way!” Scott looked from Riley to Billy for affirmation. “Did you call the cops?”
    â€œWe did,” Riley said quietly. She glanced over at Maggy, catching her in mid-yawn.
    â€œSweetie, why don’t you take your insulin and then you and Banks can go on up to bed?”
    â€œI’m gonna wait up for Dad,” Maggy said.
    â€œThere aren’t any more ferries tonight,” Riley pointed out.
    â€œSometimes he catches a ride over,” Maggy said stubbornly. “Or maybe he’s got our boat over at Southpoint. You don’t know.”
    â€œI’m too tired to argue with you now,” Riley said sharply. “Go on up to bed like I asked. If Dad does come in, I’ll send him upstairs to see you first thing. I swear.”
    â€œCome on,” Billy said, tugging at Maggy’s hand. “I’ll walk you up. I’ll even see if I can find that raggedy old Little Mermaid blankie you used to love.”
    â€œMimi probably threw it away,” Maggy said, her voice forlorn, allowing herself to be led from the room.
    â€œNo way,” Billy said firmly. “Mimi never throws anything away.”
    *   *   *
    â€œWhat’s going on between you and Wendell?” Scott asked, as soon as Maggy was out of earshot.
    â€œAbsolutely nothing,” Riley said.
    â€œAnd what’s that mean?”
    Riley fetched the wine jug and poured herself another glass. “I don’t even know where to start.” She hesitated. “This was supposed to be the weekend we break the news to Maggy that we’re separating. But Wendell pulled a disappearing act, and now all hell is breaking loose.”
    She recounted the day’s events, including the discovery of the foreclosure notice tacked to her front door.
    â€œEd tried calling the sheriff’s office, but the dispatcher doesn’t know what’s going on. It looks like we might have to wait until Tuesday to get everything straightened out.”
    Scott pointed at Riley’s cell phone, which she’d plugged into the only outlet on the kitchen counter. “And you still haven’t heard from Wendell?”
    â€œNot a word. Maggy’s furious at me, I’m furious at him, and tonight … when Mama finds out, well, you know…” Her voice trailed off.
    Scott took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and uncapped it. He took a long swig. “Why do you say that? You don’t think Evelyn’s going to blame you for everything that’s happened—do you?”
    â€œShe’s sure not gonna blame St. Wendell,” Riley said. “According to Mama, he can do no wrong.”
    â€œFamilies.” The way Scott said it came out as a prolonged