Chapter Eight
Explaining was something she didn’t do. She was the curious one, always asking questions, but as she sat in her parents’ kitchen now in a high-back chair pulled away from the table, her mother held a warm washcloth out to her. Her dad, though blurred, was standing, facing her, his thick hair in need of a cut and graying more and more, his long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows, and his hands fisted at his sides. Chris, her sister Ivy’s boyfriend, was also there, tall, dark haired, totally ripped, and staring at her as if she’d done something totally stupid, from what she could make out—or maybe that was what she believed everyone was thinking.
The back door clattered.
“Okay, let me have a look.” Ivy, the maternity ward nurse, walked in, her dark hair hiked high in a po
