Chapter Eleven
There was something about the way this was all unfolding that was outside Tiffy’s comfort zone. It was as if some outside force had stepped in and taken her carefully orchestrated plan, ripped it up, and tossed it all out the window, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
She listened to the voices from the living room, her mom and Laura. When she lifted her head, she could see them talking as if they were long-lost friends. It was freaking ridiculous, and what was she doing but standing at the kitchen island, mashing potatoes?
“Don’t forget the butter, Tiffy,” Wayne said. His thinning dark hair was freshly colored to hide all the gray, she knew, and the smile he had for everyone seemed to ease a lot of the tension in the house.
She took in her mom and Laur
