Chapter 27: Gwen - Hunter or Hunted

We took my car. I drove, Sebastian sat in the passenger seat, and Simone squeezed in the back with Lizzie and Junie. The kids did most of the talking.

Lizzie informed Junie she’d know Gabby at the party—Mallory and Chris’s daughter. She and Junie were in the same grade. They probably had some classes together.

Only then did Simone chime in with, “Wait, Mallory Jacobs?”

“That’s the one,” Sebastian confirmed.

“Oh, I do know her,” Simone said. “I do her hair.”

Which meant I was the only person in this car with no knowledge of the people whose party we were attending.

I didn’t mind, though. Sebastian said he’d gone to this New Year’s Eve party every year since he came back from college.

For the last year, I’d considered Black Pines home. But this felt like a private invitation to one of its inner circles.

The Jacobs’ home was exactly what you’d expect of a small family in an even smaller town. Its craftsman character suggested a century of standing, while the fresh white trim on the porch and window shutters showed the care they’d put into maintaining it.

The inside proved the same. Refinished cedar planks lined the floors, butting up against wainscoting stained to match. The pretty green wallpaper above it, paired with the laughter that sounded from the living room, and the children tripping over toys as they crossed the hallway straight ahead, brought warmth to my chest.

Definitely not the rager Simone had feared.

“Who’s here?” a woman called from somewhere in the distance, tone teasing.

“Who all did you invite?” Sebastian hollered, stomping off his boots on the entry rug.

“Beats the hell out of me.” Her footsteps peddled from the living room on my right. She came into view, and I had to assume she was our host—not because of anything she said. Just because she looked like a Mallory.

Lean, but not skinny. Blonde, but not bleached blonde. Jeans and a T-shirt, but in a way that felt casual, not messy. Pretty, with a smile as warm and inviting as her home.

“You must be Gwen!” Holding her cup of red off to the side, she came in for a hug. A tighter hug than I’d expected from a stranger. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much. It’s great to put a name to a face!”

So cheerful, so bubbly, so sweet. First impressions only said so much, but I had the feeling that description wouldn’t change by any large margin.

“Yeah, thank you for having me,” I said, clutching the bottle of wine I’d brought as a gift.

“Oh my god, your shirt is adorable,” Mallory said, coming close to Simone for another hug. Simone thanked her too, and just as Mallory pulled away, a little squeal of excitement escaped her. She crouched to kid height, saying, “And you must be Junie! Your mom has told me so much about you.”

Junie hung close to Simone’s side but gave Mallory a smile in greeting.

“She’s shy,” Simone said.

“That’s okay. I love your dress, though.” Mallory gestured to it, then passed her affection onto Lizzie. They embraced tightly as Mallory pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And you gotta stop getting so damn old, girly.”

“Still younger than you,” Lizzie said, giving a sly smirk.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mallory shoved her shoulder. She gave Sebastian a quick side hug. “The guys are all outside getting the fire going. Go help them. Please. I heard Chris say he was gonna get a gas can out of the shed. I will murder that man if he blows up the new patio, and I’ll blame you for it.”

Sebastian looked my way, as if to say, Are you okay? Do you wanna come with me?

“What’re we drinking, ladies?” Mallory asked us, gesturing for us to follow her into the living room. “Red? White? I’ve got mixers too if you want something stronger!”

Sebastian’s mouth opened and shut a few times.

Chuckling, I trailed behind Mallory. “You heard her. Go get that fire started.”

He scratched his head and headed down the hall. “Good luck.”

“Uh, red, if you’ve got any,” Simone said. “I think Gwen brought a bottle too.”

Mallory looked over her shoulder. Her jaw fell open and a laugh followed. “Oh, god. I’m all over the place tonight. Thank you so much.”

“No, I completely get it.” I handed it over. “And whatever’s already open. I’m not picky.”

“We’ve got it all. Seriously, which⁠—”

“Mommy, Mommy!”

One of the kids who’d run through the hallway earlier barreled through the cased opening between the living room and kitchen with a plastic bag in hand. She was a spitting image of Mallory, just half her size, with a pair of pigtails instead of bouncy curls.

She pummeled into her mom, jumping up and down. “Can we put these in the fire?”

Mallory squinted at the bag. “If Daddy’ll help, you can roast marshmallows on the fire.”

On another jump, she spun around.

Mallory caught her shoulder. “Can you say hello to our guests before you run off again, Gabby?”

Gabby scanned the crowd, waved at Lizzie, and stopped on Junie. Her eyes widened and a smile stretched across her lips. “Oh, hi, Junie!”

Practically tucked behind Simone now, Junie waved back.

“Junie’s mommy does my hair,” Mallory said. “You guys are in the same class, right?”

“Just art class,” Junie said, almost inaudible.

“Yeah, we have recess together sometimes too.” Still grinning, Gabby held up the plastic bag. “Do you like marshmallows on the fire?”

Junie nodded.

“Do you wanna come outside and make some with me?” Gabby asked.

“I could go for a marshmallow too.” Lizzie held out her hand for Junie. “Is Aidan out there?”

Gabby nodded and spun back around. “Yeah, c’mon, guys.”

Junie took a step forward, hand in hand with Lizzie, but Simone caught her elbow. “Do you wanna wait for me?”

Junie shot Simone a look. The kind that said, I’m not a baby, Mom.

“I can keep an eye on her,” Lizzie said. “And I’ll tell Edwards you’re here.”

“But tell him in, like, five minutes.” Mallory spared Simone a smile. “Let us have a little bit of girl time.”

Lizzie laughed and trailed after Gabby. Junie picked up speed at Lizzie’s side.

Simone did her damnedest to keep her face neutral, but a swallow still bobbed her throat. I ran a hand over her back, a motion I hoped assured her everything was fine.

“She’s a trip. I’m sorry.” Mallory continued into the kitchen. At the butcher-block island, she set down the bottle of wine and laid a few red Solo cups face up. Filling them, she glanced over her shoulder. “The first kid is so chill and sweet, it makes you want another. But the second? She makes you get your tubes tied.”

“Aw, she’s adorable,” I said. “Spirit like that’s hard to find.”

“That’s how I see it too.” She passed us our cups. “We like to say that Aidan is all Chris and Gabby’s all me. They’re everything, though. Best thing that ever happened to me, you know the shtick. Anyway. Enough about me. It’s really so great to meet you, Gwen.”

I noted Simone in my peripheral. Indiscernible voices carried from the yard outside the window above the dining table, covered in crock pots and serving chafers, and that’s where she was headed—to keep another set of eyes on Junie. “Yeah, likewise. Your home is gorgeous, by the way. Like, HGTV level. So custom, but so warm. Did you do it all?”

“Aww!” Mallory pressed a hand over her heart, teary-eyed. “That’s what my degree’s in. Interior design.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” I tried to exude the same level of enthusiasm she carried through each word, but I still sounded cold in comparison. I tried a little harder to match her pitch and tone when I said, “Do you work for a company, or on your own, or something like that?”

“Just little old me.” She propped both hands beneath her chin, like striking a pose for a magazine cover. “I’m working with a few land developers now. People around here aren’t as apt to hire an interior designer, but I’ve started doing customs for people online and stuff. It’s so nice now that the kids are older and I actually have time to build my career. But seriously, enough about me. What do you do again?”

Oh, I work that barely-over-minimum-wage job at the cafe in town and live in a cabin at the domestic violence shelter down the road.

“Pastry decoration,” I said. “I bake too, but mostly I decorate cakes.”

“That’s right!” She snapped her fingers, nodding. “Sebastian did mention that. You’re what made Maple & Thyme’s food actually start tasting good.”

Posture eased, I laughed and shook my head. “Mostly, I just write Happy Birthday in icing.”

“Don’t let her self-deprecate,” Simone said, still scanning the yard out the window. “You went to Sophia Albertson’s birthday party a couple months ago with Gabby, right? Gwen made that cake. The one that looked like a princess ballgown.”

“No shit. That was amazing.” Mallory waved me off. “That’s why you and Sebastian are so happy together. He doesn’t know how to give himself credit either.”

“Touché,” I said. “You know, that reminds me. You guys were friends growing up, right? He says he was a total dork back then, but I just can’t picture it.”

“Oh yeah, complete dweeb,” she said, laughing. “We weren’t really friends then. I mean, kind of? I was friends with Sarah, and Seabass was always with Sarah. She had Liz around the same time I had Aidan, so after she...” All that whimsy silliness fizzled out. She cleared her throat and forced the smile back on. “Anyway, when he got Liz, we got the kids together for playdates and stuff. We’re closer to friends now than we were then.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I gotcha.”

“He’s told you about Sarah and everything, right?” She sat on one of the leather barstools by the island. “I just—Well, he doesn’t go into it that much, and I don’t wanna step on any toes or anything.”

More than you know. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it. It’s hard on him. But no, you didn’t betray his confidence or anything.”

“Thank god.” On a sigh, she laughed—a quiet, half-hearted one. “I’m so grateful he stepped in, though. Jason would’ve ruined that girl.”

“Jason—is that Lizzie’s dad?” Simone asked.

“More like sperm donor,” Mallory said. “He walked out after Sarah died. Probably because he knew that if he stuck around, Sebastian would’ve killed him.”

Interest clearly piqued, Simone spared me a glance and landed back on Mallory. “What?”

“She’d left him,” Mallory said. “We hadn’t talked since high school, so I don’t know all the details, but I know she wound up at Rhiannon’s. That’s when we reconnected—when she was finally away from him. But she went over one day to have him sign papers, and—” Mallory pinched her eyes shut and shook her head. “He told the cops they got into an argument and she grabbed his gun. Then... Well, she didn’t walk out. But everybody knew he did it. He ran off after the funeral.”

Simone squinted at me. “Shit.”

“Yeah, it was awful. Still is sometimes.” Mallory paused, eyes growing distant. She forced the smile back on. “It’s crazy, though, now that Liz is so big. She looks so much like Sarah at that age.”

“Does she know about all this?” Simone asked.

“She’s heard the rumors, probably. But I don’t think she knows all the specifics. It’s probably best not to mention it, though.”

“Right. Of course,” Simone said.

A moment of awkward silence crept in. We all sipped our wine to soothe it.

Mallory interrupted it with a smack of her lips. “So anyway.” I laughed at the fluster of it all, and she joined in. “Lizzie really likes you, though. She said you’re teaching her piano?”

“Yeah, biweekly lessons,” I said. “She doesn’t need them, though. That kid can play.”

“Pretty sure she got that from her mom too,” Mallory said. “Where do you teach?”

“She just comes to me,” I said. “I’m not with a company or anything.”

“Are you looking for more students, by chance?” Mallory wiggled her brows, smile sincere again. “Gabby’s been begging me to get her in somewhere, but the closest music school’s an hour away, and it’s just such a hassle with all their other activities.”

“Oh. Wow.” I paused, contemplating. “I mean, I can play, but I’m not an experienced teacher or anything.”

“Sure you are. Lizzie said you’re the best teacher she’s had. But if you don’t have the time, I totally get it.”

Whenever Andrew needed us at the bakery, he called us in. But I still wanted to open my own one day, and paying off that homeless guy to get rid of David’s car had depleted my savings.

“My schedule can get a bit wonky at the cafe. I don’t have a studio or anything either, but if you really need someone⁠—”

“I really do,” she insisted. “And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to build up some business with everything at Maple & Thyme. God only knows what’s gonna happen there.”

A few months back, the whole town saw his wife throwing his shit on the front lawn. Since he managed the bakery, but her father owned it… Yeah, safe to say that Maple & Thyme’s future was unknown.

“Valid,” I murmured. “Molly said we’re usually open through the holidays, so she doesn’t know why we shut down this year.”

“I saw Julia and her dad walking around inside yesterday.” Frowning, Mallory shook her head. “Story was that he was getting ready to transfer it over into Andrew’s name. Now that she’s divorcing him, I doubt that’s gonna go through.”

Stomach sinking, I flapped my lips together in a trill. “Yeah, I was wondering where that’d go.”

“Not to freak you out or anything, but Chris thinks they’re gonna shut down and sell the building.” Scratching her head, she forced a laugh. “Haven’t done much to lighten the mood, have I?”

The thought of losing my job didn’t exactly bring me comfort. But because of the ranch, I still had a roof over my head. And like Mallory said, I had another skill I could profit on. I didn’t make much performing at nearby bars, but Sebastian said a hundred an hour was normal for piano lessons. Maybe Mallory had a point.

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, that’s okay. And yeah, if Gabby really wants some lessons, I’m happy to help.”

Mallory let out a little squeal of excitement, clapping quickly in front of her face. “Perfect! We’ve got a grand piano in the dining room. You could come here to teach her, if that works?”

“That’d be wonderful,” I said. “Thanks so much for asking.”

“Of course! And hey, you get a business card, and I’ll be happy to pass it around at the PTA.” She stood and topped off her glass. “Do you think it’s time we go check on those boys?”

“Yeah,” Simone said, glancing out the window. “One of them’s letting a preteen poke the fire with a stick.”