Delaney James has it all: a handsome husband who just made partner at his law firm, a gorgeous townhouse in NYC's Upper East Side, and a blossoming career in fashion journalism. Life is perfect - until her husband leaves her for another woman. With...
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When I get home the next morning, my father's work truck is parked out front, but their SUV is gone, and there is a navy-blue Mini Cooper convertible parked in the driveway. I know my father's landscaping company has been doing well, but there's no way they'd go out and buy a new car – especially not one you'd see someone behind the wheel of in an Austin Powers movie. My father is a pick-up truck kind of guy, and my mother, she doesn't care what she drives. As long as it's good on gas and gets her where she needs to go.
"Mom! Dad! I'm home," I announce as I walk into the house. "Where are you guys?"
"In here," a small voice calls from the kitchen.
I toss my heels on the landing at the bottom of the stairs and stroll into the kitchen, fully aware I'm still dressed in last night's clothes. I expect to find my mother at the island, focusing on a crossword puzzle while her freshly brewed coffee gets cold, or my father at the dining room table, head in his hands while he reads yet another book about JFK and his untimely assassination, but instead I find something better.
"What the..." I freeze in the entryway. "You're not mom or dad."
"You're right," Adelaide says. She turns on her stool and beams up at me. "I'm not."
I run toward her and wrap my arms around her neck – a little too tightly by the way she's now grunting in my ear. I haven't seen my sister since the Fourth of July, and I've missed her so much. It's almost like now that she's closer to me – geographically – I miss her more than I did when I was living in New York, and we'd FaceTime every Thursday so we could watch the newest episode of Grey's Anatomy together.
I release her, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. "What are you doing here? Where's Jamie?"
"He's camping at Joshua Tree with some old college buddies, so I came to see the parentals, but..." She picks up her coffee cup and sips slowly. "They're MIA."
"Well, I have no idea where they are. Dad was down at the McKinnie's and Mom was cleaning out the pantry when I left last night." My mouth stretches into a wide yawn as I reach for her coffee cup and lift it to my lips – pausing when I see she's staring at me. "What?"
"When you left last night? Where've you been?"
"Out."
"Out all...wait a minute. Is this – are you doing the walk of shame right now?"
I drop my eyes to the warm, caramel colored liquid in the mug I'm holding. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mm-hmm," she hums. "Why do I get the feeling that the reason you don't know where mom and dad are is because you didn't come home last night?" She squints her eyes as she studies me. "You weren't home when I got here, your hair is messy, though looks like it's still slightly curled from last night, and you're not exactly dressed for a Sunday morning church service. Not to mention you look freshly fucked. So, where've you been?"
