In an embarrassingly short period of time, she had plowed through half the stack. She laid down her fork and sighed, contented.
"Are they as good as you remember?" Peg called from behind the counter.
"Better," she answered, pushing her plate away. "But if I eat any more I'll burst."
The woman shook her head. "No wonder you're so scrawny. I'll have Marcie bring your check."
Avery thanked her and turned back toward the square. She began to look away, then stopped as she realized that Hunter and his mother were standing across the street, partially hidden by an oak tree, deep in conversation.
Not a conversation, Avery saw. An argument. As she watched, Lilah lifted a hand as if to slap her son but he knocked her hand away. He was furious; Avery could all but feel his anger. And Lilah's despair.
She told herself to look away. That she was intruding. But she found her gaze riveted to the two. They exchanged more words but as Hunter turned to walk away, Lilah grabbed at him. He shook her hand off, his expression disgusted.
Lilah was begging, Avery realized with a sense of shock. But for what? Her son's love? His attention? In the next moment, Hunter had strode off.
Lilah stared after him a moment, then seemed to crumble. She sagged against the tree and dropped her head into her hands.
Alarmed, Avery scooted out of the booth, hooking her handbag over her shoulder. "Peg," she called, hurrying toward the door, "could you hold my check? I'll be back later."
She didn't wait for the woman's answer but darted through the door and across the street.
"Lilah," she said gently when she reached the other woman. "Are you all right?"
"Go away, Avery. Please."
"I can't do that. Not when you're so upset."
"You can't help me. No one can."
She dropped her hands, turned her face toward Avery's. Ravaged by tears, stripped of makeup, she looked a dozen years older than the genteel hostess of the other night.
Avery held out a hand. "At least let me help you to your car. Or let me drive you home."
"I don't deserve your kindness. I've made so many mistakes in my life. With my children, my-" She wrung her hands. "God help me! It's all my fault! Everything's my fault!"
"Is that what Hunter told you?"
"I've got to go."
"Is that what Hunter told you? I saw you arguing."
"Let me go." She fumbled in her handbag for her car keys. Her hands shook so badly she couldn't hold on to them and they slipped to the ground.
Avery bent and snatched them up. "I don't know what he said to you, but it's not true. Whatever's wrong with Hunter is not your fault. He's responsible for the mess of his life, not you."
Lilah shook her head. "You don't know… I've been a terrible mother. I've done everything wrong. Everything!"
Lilah attempted to push past; Avery caught her by the shoulders. She forced the woman to meet her eyes. "That's not true! Think about Matt. And Cherry. Look how well they're doing, how happy they are."
The older woman stilled. She met Avery's eyes. "I don't feel well, Avery. Could you take me home?"
Avery said she could and led Lilah to her sedan, parked on the other side of the square. After helping the woman into the front passenger seat, Avery went around to the driver's side, climbed in and started the vehicle up.
The drive out to the ranch passed in silence. Lilah, Avery felt certain, possessed neither the want nor emotional wherewithal to converse. Avery pulled the sedan into the driveway and cut the engine. She went around the car, helped Lilah out, up the walk and into the house.
At the sound of the door opening, Cherry appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked from her mother to Avery. "What happened?"
"I'm all right," Lilah answered, an unmistakable edge in her voice. "Just tired."
Cherry hurried down the stairs. She took her mother's arm. "Let me help you."
"Please, don't fuss."
"Mother-"
"I don't want to talk about it." She eased her arm from her daughter's grasp. "I have a headache and…" She turned toward Avery. "You're an angel for bringing me home. I hope I didn't interfere with your plans."
"Not at all, Lilah. I hope you feel better."
"I need to lie down now. Excuse me."
Cherry watched her mother make her way slowly up the stairs. When she had disappeared from view, she swung to face Avery, obviously distressed. "What happened?"
"I don't know." Avery passed a hand over her face. "I was at the Azalea, in one of the window booths. I looked out and there was your mother and Hunter-"
"Hunter!"
"They were arguing."
Her expression tightened. "Son of a… Why won't he leave her alone? Why won't he just go away?"
Avery didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. Cherry shook with fury. She strode to the entryway table, yanked up the top right drawer and dug out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Her hands shook as she lit the smoke. She crossed to the front door, opened it and stood in the doorway, smoking in silence.
After several drags, she turned back to Avery. "What were they arguing about?"
"That I don't know. She wouldn't say."
Cherry blew out a long stream of smoke. "What did she say?"
"That she had made a mess of her life. Of her children's lives. That everything was her fault."
Cherry squeezed her eyes shut.
"I told her it wasn't true," Avery continued. "I told her Hunter's problems were his own."
"But she didn't believe it."
"Actually, it seemed to calm her."
"Hallelujah." Cherry moved out onto the porch, stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray hidden under a step, then returned to the foyer. "There's a first."
"I take it this has happened before."
"Oh, yeah. He hadn't been back in Cypress Springs twenty-four hours before he started shoveling his shit her way. All of our way, actually. You wouldn't believe some of the things he said. The things he accused us of."
Cherry sighed. "It doesn't matter how well Matt and I are doing, all she can focus on is Hunter and his troubles. And somehow it's all her fault."
What happened to him, Cherry? Hunter used to be so…kind. And funny."
She lifted a shoulder. "I don't know. None of us do."
"It began that summer, didn't it? That summer Sallie Waguespack was killed."
Cherry looked sharply at her. "Why do you say that?"
"Because it was that summer he and Matt started fighting. Just after they'd gotten their driver's licenses." She paused. "It's when Hunter seemed to…change."
Cherry didn't comment; Avery filled the silence. "I wouldn't have thought of it except for all the clippings I found in Dad's closet." She quickly explained how she had found the box, sorted through it then questioned Buddy about the contents. "Truthfully, I'd forgotten the incident."
"Why do you think one had anything to do with the other?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why do you think that murder has anything to do with Hunter?"
Avery blinked, surprised by the other woman's assumption. "I didn't. I was just placing it in a time frame."
Cherry rubbed the spot between her eyes with her thumb, in obvious discomfort. "I was just a kid, I hardly remember it all. But it was…a time of upheaval. Everybody was upset. All the time, it seemed."
She dropped her hand and met Avery's eyes. "For whatever reason, Hunter's changed. He's not one of us anymore. As much as it hurts me to admit, I can't imagine what it does to Matt. They're twins, for God's sake. Once they were as close as two people could be."
Cherry shivered slightly and closed the door. "To his credit, Matt's gone on. So have Daddy and I. But Mother can't seem to…let go." She paused. "It's been much worse since Hunter came back to Cypress Springs. Before, we could forget, you know? Out of sight, out of mind. Even Mom. I think she consoled herself with his professional success."
Out of sight, out of mind. Avery understood. In a way, she had done that with her father. She had told herself he was happy, that he had a nice comfortable life. Now she had to live with just how wrong she'd been.